photo posted 06/20
October 28, 2006
No one compares to you. You are so rare and amazing. Thank you for everything, every day.
I feel blessed that you are a part of my life.
Namaste,
Robin
Doc Segue
The Voices in my head?
ADD in evidence
-=<{(( LOVE ))}>=-,
732/908,
Adult Swim,
Ass Lover,
Backpackers,
Backpacking,
behold the wrath of...Robot Chicken,
Bill Hicks: It's just a tribe...,
Buddhists Just Wanna Have Fun,
Burn Austin,
Burning Man,
burning flipside in austin,
Burning Man Philadelphia,
Burning Regions,
Campfire Cafe,
Camping,
Extreme Honesty,
HeartBurners,
INTERFUSE,
International Burner Hostel,
Life Give U Lemons? Make Goldshlagger,
Midwest Burners,
New England Burners,
New England Freaks for Fun,
New Jersey Rainbow Family Tribe,
NJ Burning Man Tribe,
North Jersey,
NYC Burning Man,
NYC Flava,
physics explained,
Playa Del Fuego,
Polly & Marie (polyamory),
Rudy Rucker Fans,
Soul Coughing,
The Ethical Sluts,
The Practical Nomad,
The Robe Warriors,
TribeMasters, TroubleMakers and Trollz,
Unconditional Love,
Venture Bros.,
William Gibson fans,
Zen Buddhist Scoundrels,
Idle Hands or OCD? |
3rd Eye AstigmatismGender
Male
Age
39
Location
about me
I am more than the sum of my desires, needs, interests, emotions, intellect and experience. I am a sponge that grows fatter with every soaking; I am less than saturated, but not beyond being overwhelmed.
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Namasté
3rd Eye Landslide
I am in the process of reading a post on the Shamanism tribe titled, "Is a Shaman Born or Trained??" In reading this and interpreting the different views expressed in the replies, I have to wonder for myself: Might I, myself, be a Shaman? I feel it sometimes, when my fingers tingle with the itch to heal and in those moments when that vacuum-clear vision slides easily into place to reveal Truth.
Fri, November 30, 2007 - 9:14 AM
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The Truth is, I have always felt different in that my path has diverged from so many in my life.... read more 
I made a terrible husband as well as a horrible partner. I've always been too selfish; too selfish to let go of my inhibitions, too selfish to communicate. I'm an even worse non-smoker. The kid with the gun; you know, the one in the picture? That's the smoking monkey on my back, and, yes, he can and will kick the shit out of yours. He loves violence, loathes peace. His favorite smell is burnt gunpowder. His favorite sound is mocking laughter - there's nothing quite like spanking some a...
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Mon, April 9, 2007 - 2:22 PM
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I was sitting on the back porch last night, lightly buzzed and looking out across the clear sky. I absorbed the very few constellations I actually know, mentally noting where they are and the time for future reference. The Big Dipper, its handle chasing its cup across the sky, was high enough to maintain visibility for hours to come. Orion had already decided the hunting was better on the other side of the Earth. The moon gazed down upon me with its ethereal, white reflected glow. I was ...
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Mon, March 26, 2007 - 2:10 PM
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I fucked up. Big. I fucked up in the biggest way I know to fuck up. I let everything slip through my fingers and did nothing to stop it. I had the love of a couple of beautiful, vibrant women and did nothing to keep it. I ran. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I didn’t. I pointed my finger at circumstances and influence and never once said, “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing; I need help.” I would have gotten that help, too, if I’d only asked. I was told as much.
Thu, March 22, 2007 - 1:35 PM
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I’ve been mo... read more 
Okay, so now that I'm past most all of the hatred and self-loathing and disappointment, I am getting to the roots of my melancholy:
Thu, March 8, 2007 - 2:20 PM
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Friends. I miss you all: BUTTERFLY: I miss the way you used to smile at me. The way you used to call me on my bullshit and help me to readjust my perspective when I would say something self-deprecating or over-simplistic. The way I would feel when we touched, the pure, unadulterated energy that would pass between us that words could never explain. You taugh... read more 
I have transcended the broken heart. Mine is malignant. A cancer of loss eats away at it from the center. It reeks of decay and where it is pink, it is the unhealthy pink of feverish distention. Those are mere symptoms, though, as the cause is even more insidious.
Wed, March 7, 2007 - 6:49 AM
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That which diseases my heart is loss; loss of friends, of lovers and love itself. God, that four-letter word: love. When one reads or hears a word or phrase or sees a picture and one is reminded of something else, it is call... read more 
I have been fascinated with the life of the monk for quite some time now. I am not sure exactly when it began. It could have been a few years ago when I first read Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins. It might have even been something as silly as adopting the Monk class when I used to play Neverwinter Nights. (You're right, I am a geek at heart.) Maybe, just maybe, it was watching "Kung Fu" every week and being held in awe of the Grasshopper. Most likely it is all of those and mo...
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Sun, July 9, 2006 - 1:50 AM
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