So I run away to Mexico to cleanse my mind and body, but all the icky stuff emerges from where I have submerged it and now I want to go home and stuff it all back down into the depths where no one needs to know about it. And of course that is completely unacceptable but who am I trying to please anyway. We all find our ways of coping in this world out of balance where only the insane are sane as we slip/slide towards some impoverished future where our kid's kids will curse our names and spit on our graves. And my sphere of influence is so small whilst my sphere of concern is vast. I am an ant holding up his little paw to the machine with the big heavy wheel that compresses the asphalt (can't remember what to call it but the image is one of futility). Stop, stop can't you see... Shit, I'm going to get crushed unless I turn and sprint in the same direction and do I really have a choice cause I wonder if everything I do, I do instead of something I want to do more, the question fills my head. Breathe, laugh, irony can be cathartic, and what do I know anyways. Maybe there is some element of destiny involved. Looking back it kinda looks that way; looking forward it appears all about choice. Think about that for a minute. Didn't it have to be that way for you to be here now? It's all revisionism anyway, and the continental plates will one day sublimate all of our puny efforts and grind them to dust and red hot MAGMA.

And how is this helping? My guess is it is not. All my counterculture bleatings and funny hairstyles and nasty music ain't done squat for making da world a better place. It has simply fueled the next wave of consumerism, whilst the hard work of incremental institutional change is left to the drab bureaucrats and soup kitchen activists. It ain't glamourous. It ain't glorious. It ain't hiphop, punk rock, bohemian folk song style-mogrels that change the world. And that makes a lot of what I have done completely meaningless. Shit.

So what do I need to do now so that when I am 94 and floating on my paraglider I can look back at my life and say, "Yah man, that was a great life I lived!"

Well spending more time looking forward would probably help. Save the rearview mirror stuff for the deathbed...

Forgive me for this... just needed to release some yuck...