Profoundly sick (Don't read)

You're a fucking pussy! If it happens for me then you're safe with your little deal but if it happens to you you change? The deals off? You know what you promised to.

Laughter and fun were so easily avoided with a drink then. Make ups are easy with a drink. Without medication it's harder to heal.

Find my meds. They're hard to find. You can't hold them. You really can't buy them. Maybe you can buy maps to them but you can't buy these meds in a store and put them in your grocery bag and bring them home.

My meds are transparent. They're hard to see. You have to be in a place. On the beam maybe, but sometimes when you have fallen off the beam and are far from home the medication appears.

Fill my heart with meds. I'm drowning. No one gives a fuck unless you're pretty. No one cares unless you know how to sing. Fuck you you sheep!!!!!

It is not a sign of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick world!

Where?

I'm in stress out mode. When am I not? I don't know. I feel the anxiety creeping back into me like a cancer stronger than ever after a remission. I haven't slept much. I won't sleep much tonight. I hate my job! They're threatening to fire me if I don't become their indentured servant. I can't stand being controlled. I'm fucking out of it right now. Checkmated by life once again.

What the fuck! I'm 37. Very behind schedule. I'm all or nothing and you know what that means I am today. Where's the peace?

Where did you go? The joy for life? The fun?

I am poetry!!

A lot of people don't realize that I am a poet. I'm the real deal. My poetry is the kind that comes from angels, the kind of poetry that you can only write if you get yourself into a space where you watch a sunset and cry. True poetry comes from tears, tears that come from a place where you are witnessing something so beautiful that you have to cry. My poetry style is probably best categorized as beauty tear poetry. I'm special, I have special emotions. That's why I'm an important poet.

You get to be a poet of my stature without crying a lot of tears. Whenever I recognize beauty I start crying. I'm crying right now just because I can totally spot the genius in this writing that I'm creating at this very moment.

That's all art is, being in the moment, right? That's why people are always saying I'm brilliant.

But enough about me and more about my beauty. My poetry. Not only does poetry come from beauty but it comes from darkness. I have entered the realm of darkness. The depths of evil. The terror that your average American would go into cardiac arrest if he even knew a glimpse of the darkness I have witnessed. My incredible poetry comes from this place too.

I'm very sensitive so usually I don't express my deepest feelings but I feel that because this is the internet it's a safe place to share. Because people on the internet just want to help you. I feel safe and not judged right now.

My poem that I would like to share with you is titled innocent addicts.

Crack cocaine, heroine or speed
I can't help what's coming into me
My mom's a junkie and a slut
cigarettes and pot while I'm in her gut

I'm innocent I'm an innocent addict
I'm innocent It's not my fault that I love drugs!

incubator will be my place to live
5 years from now I'll be a Jerry's kid
20 years old can't even read
still addicted to crack cocaine and speed

I'm innocent it's my fault
I learned it from you mom! In your stomach!!!!!!!

Supermoon

Almost there
but not quite here
waiting for
the magic beer
a taste from God
a thought control
a painful ring
a dormant soul
friends from low
a head to fly
coming down
is nowhere guy
oldest games
and newest tricks
join the club
make your picks
I'm not last
but never first
I want the best
and think the worst
so hold my towel
I'll need it soon
I'm going in
the supermoon

Just a tear

Half asleep
warm in bed
the lady's gone
I rest my head
one last thing
before I'm gone
try to write
to uncle John
evil is
as evil's friends
open doors
make amends
strangers speak
in no ones talk
but all we do
is turn and walk
hold it tight
the sacred's near
don't let go
it's just a tear

My muse is a dancer

Today was the stage.
Is the stage truth?
Not if it sucks.
I don't suck today.
Is that truth?
Not if it's a lie on the inside.
I'm full of half truths.
Where is the truth then?
Not even the doctor knows.
This is why he charges money.
If I'm half truth am I half lie?
My lie is potential.
The not doing is the lie.
The doing is the truth.
I know what feels right and what feels wrong from situation to situation.
Erase the black and white and enter the world of technicolor.
My muse or your silencer?
Use everything you hear, see, taste, smell and feel.
This is your art, this is my muse.
I'm dancing with her now.

clown head

Downhill racing
forward facing
curving speed
eating feed
jarring star
lightening car
holding fear
trying near
TV shows
mother knows
late start
big heart
hit down
holding clown

I like yoga (kind of)

Today is the 189th day of daily yoga for me! The catch is the yoga I do is a little underwhelming, but I heard someone say once that it is good to underwhelm yourself. When you overwhelm you get frustrated. When you underwhelm you create a small amount of a momentum. That small amount of momentum could be the ripple that turns into a tidal wave. The tidal in this metaphor would be me turning into a spiritual warrior who kills at comedy and makes great films. Alright, the first paragraph and already I've found the funny!

I do yoga in my underwear. It's kind of embarrassing. We're broke and we could really use a roommate to help pay the rent but I can't do yoga in my underwear around a roommate. I'm not so comfortable with myself that I can let myself become creepy guy in front of people outside of my family. The other day my wife had one of her girl friends over and I announced that I was going to go upstairs to practice yoga. My wife's friend said, "In your underwear?"

Come on wife, do you have to tell your friends about my underwear yoga?

The one thing I can say about yoga is that it brings me a little closer to the beam. I'm still crazy, but I'm a little less crazy with yoga. I guess most people who practice yoga are crazy, why would you want to calm down if you didn't need it. Why would you want to quiet your mind if it was already quiet? You wouldn't. It's the people with minds that are out of control who are attracted to yoga. What I'm saying is, it helps.

I've got to get the podcast going

I have heard Adam Carolla say that any idiot can do radio. He says it's all about reps, get a job late night when no one is listening and put in the reps. I guess the equivalent of late night radio where no one listens is to start your own podcast. Just put in the hours. I'm like the guy who went to the gym a few times and quit after a month because I wasn't ripped and was really soar. And along with that metaphor I'm still paying my monthly gym membership fee.

Just put in the reps Duke, you can do this. You have to know your limitations right? I'm definitely not a natural on the spoken word. What am I good at? I'm good and delivering something that I have rehearsed. Sometimes I'm OK off the cuff but that's a muscle that really needs some work. So why don't I put in the reps? I already pay for the service and have my own iphone app. I've done 5 episodes already. Each episode has some laughs, but the fact is there's a lot of filler. But Rome wasn't built in a day right? I suck. No I'm OK. No, I'm the best. No I'm the worst. Okay I'm sub-par with moments of funny. I can live with the last one as long as I believe I have potential. Potential means you are a loser now, but there's a chance you could change that if you get your act together. I have potential.

I'm an aspiring comedian and filmmaker. I've written a script which I plan on making and I can make people laugh for about 8 minutes. My goal is the change the 8 minutes to 45 and the "plan to make a movie" to "I have made and make movies." The dream is to be a mixture of Woody Allen and Louie CK. So the movie part is clear, finish the rewrite and sell everything I own to buy a camera and then go. The comedy part is, perform and write as often as possible. Then it will turn into, perform in front of people who want to see you. That's where the podcast comes in. Everyone's doing it. All the cool kids.

This is what I know about a podcast:

#1. It has to be consistent. There should be a consistent format. Of course the format should allow for variety, but the structure should be consistent. And the show should come out consistently on the same day, like clock work.

#2. It should be well produced. Good recording quality, an intro song and maybe some cool segue music.

#3. Keep them wanting more. (Not sure about this one.) Maybe keep it around 45 minutes to an hour long. Maybe have a teaser at the top of the show about what is going to happen in the show. Then maybe have teasers for next week.

I guess it's kind of like the Tao of Steve. Do something excellent, walk away, don't care.

Okay, so what's my format? This is the format that I had: Do an opening with banter between me and Lesley for maybe 10 minutes, interview an up and coming comic, then some closing banter. Do I stick with this? I don't know. Bill Burr just talks for an hour straight and says that helps with his stand up. Of course he still has a format within the hour talk. He'll usually open with some rant about what's going on lately, then he'll give advice from emails, share youtube videos, read emails that ask if they are racist, read emails that talk about stuff that is overrated or underrated and then usually he'll try to piss somebody off to keep the momentum of the show moving forward.

Okay here's a sample format for myself that is totally ripped off from another podcast.

1. Intro - Someone asking people to go to dukefightmaster.com to give a donation.
2. I'll talk briefly about what is going to happen on the show.
3. Theme song (I'll have to come up with something original.
3. Lesley and I banter.
4. I interview a comic or friend.
5. Closing remarks from Lesley and I.
6. Get excited for next weeks show, and donate at dukefightmaster.com
7. A duke Fightmaster original song.

Okay, this doesn't seem that hard. I'll try to keep it one hour exactly. Maybe I can do this.

Her voice (truth) - poem

Shiftless cries and tender movements
downturned spirals and off put jokes
snakes with oil and sales with coal
laughs are present but sadness spoke
the heat is rising like waves abroad
the moisture thickens with the boiling
funny how when you run you tire
yet walking slow gets there first
every moment of every day is alive
but it's also dying
you are dead but you are remebering
I remember some good and some bad but most is just a blur
people try to steady their view
hand models sit all around me
they wear gloves during the day
you've got to protect your investment
I like to shake my money maker
discipline inside the soul
art is nothing more than truth
and truth is something that no man knows
until he hears her voice

WTF interview with Carolla almost inspires me

Just listened to the Marc Maron podcast with Adam Carolla. All the podcasts I listen to are thanks to Adam Carolla. I guess because he's the biggest, that's just where you start. It was a year and a half ago when I got a new iphone, a month before Christmas. I was messing around with the itunes and I saw Adam Carolla. I used to listen to Love Line when I drove a cab during the night shift in San Fransisco. I loved Adam, why not give it a listen. I also have been a huge Howard Stern fan my whole life but when I went broke and lost my car with sirius I was without words coming into my car stereo.

So I give Adam a try on my iphone and instantly I'm hooked. The cool thing about podcasts is that you can go back and listen to the old episodes to get caught up and this became my mission. The funny thing is when I first got my iphone I saw the podcast WTF on the top ten in comedy and I tried it out. I listened to about 13 seconds and immediately said I don't like this guys voice and dismissed it.

Fast forward through a bunch of the Ace man shows and I stumble across the first interview he did with Marc Maron. Adam brings up that Maron used to be friends with Sam Kenison and goes through his history in comedy. I decide that this Marc Maron guy isn't that bad. I give WTF another try and instantly I'm addicted. I love the podcast and I love Marc (In a totally straight way, and in a big brother or father I never had way too).

Adam also turned me on to Greg Fitzsimmons who in turn introduced me to Bill Burr whom I also love and look up to. I think it was also Carolla who introduced me to Joe Rogan who makes me wish I could do mushrooms again. Through Marc Maron I was turned on to Dave Hill and This American life. These are all my favorites. I also dabble into the nerdist with Chris Hardwick when I need something new.

The thing I always loved about Howard Stern is that it always seemed real. He wasn't afraid of confrontation and I loved that. Maron seems like he has had many confrontations in his life and in that way is similar to Stern.

Carolla on the other hand is extremely non confrontational when he is interviewing guests or when he is speaking with his sidekicks. He's really bought into the whole groundlings improv thing. The first thing they teach you in improv is a tool called "yes and". Whatever the person you are improving with says you have to agree with it and then build on top of it. The point is so you can work together to build a picture or a scene. I can't stand some improv people. I believe many of them act like a cult. They learn one tool and then they like to tell everyone else how they are doing it wrong.

This is the thing everyone hates about religion right? No one really gives a fuck what you believe it's just when you start telling other people that they are doing it wrong. I acknowledge the "Yes and" tool. I know it works and I understand why they teach it. The bottom line is I don't like improv. It's not real. It doesn't feel authentic to me and it just seems like a bunch of arrogant "know it alls" who want to show off their talent for working with others in front of other "know it alls".

There's tricks in stand up comedy. I've seen the guy that I don't think is funny getting the laughs from tricks. From the rhythm or the facial expression or the delivery. This is all fine but when you rely solely on the trick there is no soul. No heart.

This is the problem I have with Adam. For one, he's a genius. There is no doubt in my mind that he is hands down probably the best off the cuff personality in show business. The problem is I believe he relies too heavily on the "yes and" tool that many times real moments are passed up. He misses the confrontation. I think he's a people pleaser. He's the master at skating around the argument with the "yes and" tool. Sure he'll argue with an imaginary person whose not present during one of his rants but never do we see face to face combat.

That being said, Marc tried to engage Adam on some issues and Carolla schooled him. It seemed like Maron was getting ready to do battle and Adam somehow neutered Maron in a way that made Marc almost eat his words and say, in so many words, "I guess you have a point and could be right." In Maron's defense he did sarcastically mention how ridiculous Carolla's plan would look in reality. Something about sending teams coaches to give pep talks to the unfortunate people everywhere. The problem was that was just an after thought at the end of the interview. Too little too late.

Anyways I didn't really want to talk about any of that. The funny thing is, I agree with Adam on some level when it is directed towards me personally. What interested me was when Adam was talking about how people who take their work seriously are never out of work. He said a good carpenter is always working. Then, and this is the part that I really cared about, he said a comedian who busts his ass off and basically puts the work into his craft and is always performing will get work. Maybe he won't be Dane Cook he said but he will find work.

This is the part I want to test. If I really want to be a comedian, assuming I have at least some natural ability, and I put everything into it, could I do it? I'm not talking about anyone, I'm talking about myself, Duke Fightmaster. Carolla spoke about how he started digging ditches. Then he got a truck and then some tools and eventually was a carpenter. I guess one thing I have to keep in mind is that it's a process. It's not going to happen over night. I have to start by digging the ditches.

What's the equivalent of digging ditches for me? Writing and performing. I have to get up and perform as much as I can but as equally important I need to write. And I need to write smart. I need to perform smart.

I'm almost inspired to do something. Will I? Let's see.

Hey dead man live

No one gets out of here alive. Who says that? Jim Morrison? It's true, right? We know how the story ends. Everyone knows, we all die. No one escapes.

So why does everyone play it so safe? What the fuck!! You're gonna die dumb shit, why are you in a cubicle? Why are you on the couch? Why are you keeping your mind turned off?

Why aren't you doing what you want to do? What are you scared of? You're already as good as dead, why don't you try living?

My pinky toe

My pinky toe is red and purple. It hurts. This is one of the side affects of fatherhood, I'll explain.

I want my kids to have something. I'm into film, skateboarding, comedy, and surfing.

We make movies together, I fold and tape a bunch of blank papers together and turn it into a book. The kids draw pictures on each page. We look through the book together and they tell me the story. I write that down. We turn these books into movies.

I have four old school skateboards laid out in the hallway. We live on a culdesac. I get the kids out in front of our home to skate. We have races, practice turning, and take the boards down to the black path at the beach down the hill.

I make my kids laugh and encourage them to do the same to me and others. Many times my oldest son has to tell me to stop making jokes because he's laughing too hard and has the hiccups. Even at my most depressing moments in comedy I know that at the very least I can crack my kids up. The other day my wife asked my son what he wanted to do when he grows up and he said, "I want to do comedy because dad told me some people that do comedy only use potty words. That's what I want to do."

I've been taking my oldest out surfing for the last three summers. I got him a wetsuit and a life jacket. We started off on my longboard with him in front and we would just ride waves on our stomachs. Now I bought him a kids foam board and he was riding by himself, with a little help of being pushed into the wave.

My wife does some yoga with them.

I wanted them to have a coach that wasn't me or my wife. I'm broke but what the hell. We started taking the free two weeks that you get offered in the martial arts classes. Finally one of the places roped me in. The deal was for both kids, $159 for three months with the uniforms. I couldn't afford rent at the time but I did have enough for that, sold!

Fast forward a couple months and when I show up with the kids this morning it's parents and kids day at the dojo. What the heck. I take off my shoes and socks and get on the mat. They don't take it easy on us with the warm ups. The drills have us sprinting, running like a bear, and racing like a crab. Then the kids get to do the moves on their parents. Smash cut too...I have a pinky toe that looks and feels like it's going to fall off.

It's just the price of parenthood I guess.

My muses are coming

What's going on here? 182 days in? 182 days of daily writing and yoga. The goal was? To tap into the muse realm. Am I in muse realm now? That's how it works right? You write everyday and then one day, all of a sudden, you're in muse land. Where the muses are beautiful in their bikinis just whispering brilliant thoughts into your psyche. These majestic ideas then flow through your fingertips. A lot like Charlie Sheen's poetic fingertip magic.

So have we made it? When will I know? Maybe you never make it, you just flow in and out of charm.

If you want to get to know the creator then you can start to learn how to appreciate the creation. Look up. Look at the sky. How often do I look at the sky? The sky is God like. The ironic thing is that I used to take time out of my day to stop everything, to take a moment and look up to the sky when I smoked. Smokers have something uniquely special. They get to take a break from life. They get to have a chat with someone cool. Let's admit it, the fact is, most smokers are pretty cool. That's the reason why you start to smoke, isn't it? To be cool. Smokers get to be cool, and take a cool moment out of life with other cool people.

Unfortunately most smokers eventually turn ugly and uncool. But, for a period of time, they get to touch something that we all want. A break from life, a connection with someone, and a glimpse of God.

I've been thinking of the whole God thing a lot lately. I don't believe in the bearded man in the sky who is constantly saying, "Don't fuck with me!" But I have a need to believe in something. Atheism makes since to me but I find that it doesn't help me allow my human spirit to endure during tough times. It mostly makes me want to blow my brains out. I think atheism is a much easier attitude to adopt when you are rich. This is not to say that I'm religious as I can't stand people without a sense of humor. I especially abhor people who tell me I'm wrong and they are right.

I have a need to believe in something. For when times get tough, for when I'm in bed at night, for the human experience in general. All I can do is read and listen to people who have researched these kind of things and go with what I feel rings true to me.

Meditation rings true to me. Exercise rings true to me. Taking care of your body rings true to me. Being cool to people rings true to me. Writing rings true to me. Being open minded and flexible rings true. Yoga rings true to me. Laughter rings true to me. Looking within yourself rings true to me. Respect others rings true.

Somewhere in the bible it says something like, "God made us in his image." Somewhere along my path I heard from a man who spoke with a rabbi regarding that line. The rabbi said it was a misinterpretation. He went on to explain that it's not that God made us in his image but it's that we each have God within us.

On some level this rings true to me. It tells me a couple things. One we are all the same. If I hurt you, I hurt myself. It also tells me that I can find truth if I am to look within myself. This is the great secret that no church or religion wants you to know. If you could access God on your own then their would be no need for the church.

I have no need for the church. I am on a journey within. And I like to say the word fuck.

Thank you my muse.

Head please calm down

My head is screaming with ache. It's painful. So painful that I'm not even thinking about how painful life is.

Too many panic attacks forced me to make some changes in life. I write everyday, do yoga daily, and don't eat junk food with sugar in it. So the trick is to try and figure out how to overeat stuff that you can actually eat. Today my wife bought some "no sugar added" cupcakes. I had two. I think that's what did it.

Head please calm down. That's just me talking to my head.

It's almost midnight. I haven't slept more than six hours for weeks. That's not good for proper head alignment.

I just ate a bunch of "no sugar added" ice cream.

Must finish writing now and try to cope. Then sleep.

Pirating the seas of my inner mind

Sometimes I wish I was more like Charlie Sheen and I'll tell you why. The guy is always winning. He can't stop winning. Morning, noon, and night. Winning, winning, winning. The guy is winning at every corner of life.

Sometimes I'm a winner. I've been known to win. But I lose a lot. A lot of losing. I think there's more losing than winning.

I'm an all or nothing guy. Give me everything or give me nothing. This is how my mind works. I will do P90X perfectly for 90 days or I will do no exercise and eat ice cream for breakfast. I will either get drunk every night and do physical damage to your home or I will never drink again and become self righteous.

I'm either a winner or a loser. See if I were Charlie Sheen I would only be a winner. That's what I'm jealous of. It doesn't matter what people think of this guy, in his mind he's winning!

I don't know where any of that came from. I've been waiting till the last moments of the day to do my yoga and meditation lately. The past few nights I've been writing while sleeping.

Speaking of sleeping I had a nightmare the other night. It was a comedy nightmare. I was doing comedy in some type of a sit down restaurant. People on my left and people on my right. The tables had white clothes on them I believe. I'm pretty sure the people on the right couldn't see the people on the left and the same with the right. I start doing my normal routine to very little, if any, crowd reaction. I start realizing that I'm bombing. They're really turning on me. I don't feel good at all. I start sweating. Then I start getting mad. Then I notice I have a big sharp knife in my hand. Then I'm not sure if I'm going to stab someone or not, but I leaning towards doing it and I scare myself. Then I wake up next to my 6 year old boy who had jumped in our bed in the middle of the night. It was just a dream.

I think it was the next night that I bombed in real life. Now I have a gig tomorrow night and already I'm expecting the worst while at the same time thinking it could be awesome. No in between with me. I'm either the best comic or the worst.

My head switches so fast from the best to the worst that it's surprising that I'm not seasick.

So this is the sea worn head of your old pal Duke, pirating the seas of his inner mind and surfing the waves that life's earthquakes throw his way, saying,"Overandout."

System's down, run like hell

Holy fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt. Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me. Fuck you fuck you fuck you. Fuck you life. Life is a fucking cunt. Fuck bitch cunt dumb shit son of a stupid whore you poor excuse for blank blank blank blank. Duh duh duh duh. Space cadet mother fucker. Space space space. The fucking space is filled with shit you psycho lunatic.

Sorry for the profanity I just want to make sure no real job hires me.

I'm beyond crazy right now. It's like when you're tripping and you don't think you can handle any more and then it get's 100 time worse. It's just a drug. It's just a drug. Ignore the steering wheel melting. Ignore the dragon snake coming in through the sun roof.

I used to be a butler.

It's just a drug. Stay cool. It's just the drug.

The door is melting.

My eyes are melting shut. My brain is turning to mush. The wave has crashed and I'm holding my breath.

Tired eyes.

Don't eat too many grapefruit. Definitely not over 20 in one sitting. I don't eat fruit anymore. Talk with confidence and you can be a guru leader.

Fly high.

They're phantom laughs. Train the lion. Let him know who's boss.

Live in paradox.

I'm in purgatory for aspiring comics. Some never leave. I want out.

Like father like son

You gave me the jacket
It could of been straight
You wrote the book
then burned it
I would still wear the jacket
if I was in prison
You taught me things
how to not grow up
how to wash
eat for really cheap
look good
say, "Fuck you."
You met the girl
with the pretty lips
and fat hands
you left. Then you came back.
But you were gone.
I'm your son.
I give these things to my kids.
I love them.
I hate myself sometimes.
You called me when I was going down.
It was odd timing.
I thought it was crazy
but maybe crazy makes sense.
We got high together
We hit the fourth one
crazy cycle sayings
cleaning toilets
Janitors
Have I lost my janitor's license?
I love you.
I run the movie in my head.
I act it out with different
characters that stumble in my home
Be comfortable in your home.
We've got time, right?
These are the good times.
I love you.

I love the thought of you.

Dead man's mission

Time has spoke
The letter is done
The ink is wet
But here comes sun
The line before
was always clear
But now we've entered
blurry is near
the moments fade
into a haze
the young man sings
into a daze
I've seen lightening
that I could touch
it shows it's face
when times are such
Thinking man
has no place
it's honesty
that shows it's face
like kung fu
the stuff disarms
I've lived in cities
and ran from farms
my friends are tight
but more in dreams
it's a pattern
of holding seems
A thread that runs
my blankets end
The warmth it gives
is no mans friend
but don't disrobe
or pull the cloth
that's the job
of my souls moth
the path I take
Is joy in turns
the holding on
is when it burns
the magic of
life's first kiss
can hold you down
in chasing bliss
the journey's blind
on dead man's mission
so turn not
to blind ambition

Has this happened before?

Once again so tired. Always sleepy but never sleeping. Is this a dream state on some vision quest? Some sweat lodge that has turned into Alice's hole and a wonderland of half awake freaks who all want to get me? Time keeps on trippin, into the fade. Moments are becoming blurry. Back and fourth is my mind which is creating the nightmare visions of the worst possibilities. I think them and then they join me in the worldly plane and stay there. I escape into the astral regions of my mind but the ghosts are pulling me back.

There's nothing in the astral plane anyways, it was always a lie. There's definitely no pizza there, no shopping, no women. This plane that we see each other on, the one where I can move my hands and touch you, this is the one that counts. At least that's what my shaman told me. Shamen are never there when you think you need them but just as you are about to walk off the cliff he shows up to give you some type of wisdom that makes absolutely no sense. It's usually the opposite of reason.

I've spoken with the wizard, he came out of the smoke when I was pulling around the corner desperate tears. I picked up. The view from a noose is like no other. The colors really come to life. Anyways, I took my head out of the rope and gladly answered this serendipitous phone call. The wizard. He told me to expect the things I can not change.

These were his instructions:

Anytime I see anything that I take exception to I can ask myself, "Is this to be expected?"

"Has this ever happened before?"

"Is it probable that it will happen again?"

Then he said that I can ask the universe for serenity to expect the things I can not change.

This is my trip to the desert. This is what I come back to civilization with. I am a man. I am on a journey. I move forward.

ramblings of the sacred

If you run too many programs on a computer at once it crashes. My mind is the same.

There's gold beneath the programs. Under the words and beyond the thoughts. Even past the thoughts that we don't know are thoughts. This is where the gold is. The well that was not made by man. It doesn't matter what you think you know of the well. In fact many people live their entire lives speaking passionately about this so called "well" who have never seen a glimpse of the sacred.

I started this off talking about computers and already I'm into the sacred. I guess that can make sense because the computers are a path to the sacred. This is nonsense talk to non stoners, so if you are not a tripper stop reading.

There's no sacred with a crashed computer.

My computer is crashing, hence I am out of balance. I'm not in touch with the sacred. (Are these the types of writings that you see a complete psycho give right before he goes on a rampage?) Most likely.

I'm on a journey. A journey to this so called "well" not made by men. Writing is half of the path. At least it's a part of it. I'm writing to write.

So back to computers. Just run one program at a time. My mind needs focus. I'm going to try to attempt to run a single program.

Now I know I'm not making sense.

Okay, so I have a green screen set up in my yoga room and I'm going to make a video for a friends website while I have a million other things running through my mind. Let's focus Duke.

If anything I did todays writing which will allow me to focus a little clearer.

Wisdom is old

Anger is the thread that runs the wool
my existence is the led that weights the fool
life is the joke that laughs the belly
instinct has to poke and spread the jelly
fellow men ride but they know the game
I play the tide and stay away from same
so rules I knew I signed the line
the soul once flew but the piper's fine
it's the one cost you can't avoid
lives are lost and men are toyed
the last is here so walk the edge
the thoughts are fear so take the pledge
against the net swim the channel
take the bet and loose the flannel
your movement heats and looses cold
feels like cheats but wisdom's old

Hell's ocean to heaven

Still, months later, hours after, years, days, they have all blended into one. Just one big heap into nothingness and depression. Just one long day of misery. What the fuck is my head telling me? On top of that I have these hours of sublime bliss where it feels like life could never be better. Actually it feels like I've reached light at the end of the tunnel and it will only get better from here on out. But that goes away eventually.

Mid life crisis? Panic disorder? Borderline? Manic depressive?

All of the above sprinkled with egomania and a heavy dose of self centered neurosis.

Why am I going down this negative path? It's beyond insightful. It's beyond self awareness. In fact it probably isn't self awareness at all. Just because I keep thinking that I'm fucked isn't helping anyone, definitely not me.

I set out on this writing journey because I wanted the Gods to whisper inspiration into my ear. I wanted to make contact with my muse. The problem is I don't think think my course is set for the goddesses in the heavens. I'm hanging out with serious demons. I'm surrounded. Maybe I've been in hell all along. Maybe the only way to the muses is through hell. It's like crossing an ocean. Maybe I'm halfway across the ocean. The ocean of fire. When you're halfway to heaven sailing the fiery oceans of hell there's no reason to turn back. Maybe the middle of hells ocean is the worst it can get. Maybe it will get a little better each time. I'm still sailing even though the winds have not moved my sails very far in that last months. I still move a little every day.

The funny thing is I'm not funny. I set out to meet the goddess muses because I wanted to put together my comedy act. I haven't been able to write anything funny. It's mostly just been about the voices in my head.

Well I'm sure this entry makes no sense to anyone but somehow I feel a little better. I really hope I am in the middle of hells fiery ocean on the way to heaven. That thought makes me feel better because it implies that I have a chance. It implies that there's hope. That people can change their circumstances.

Gone fun

There's not a soul
it's holding strong
deep inside
the oceans wrong
time can test
laughs can heal
friends can be
the lightening feel
lonely is
the touch that's none
love has left
and gone is fun

No fault saving

Help was on the way
you reached out your hand
this is why I bleed
I can't understand
to be the lie
the lock in the vault
it's all there and
and no one was at fault
sleep l

It fits

It's been dark
too dark to see
I've been lost
inside of me
it's been cold
too cold to walk
I've been frozen
and couldn't talk
but I saw a glimpse
of beautiful light
it came in the middle
of the New Mexico night
I'm starting to thaw
and open my eyes
something's new
beyond the cries
sometimes things are good
inside to my heart
it comes from nowhere
but it fits the part

Last day in New Mexico

It's the end of my full last day in Albuquerque. I really like it here. The people are very friendly, they seem to have accepted me for some strange reason. I got hooked up with just regular cool people and I became aquainted with the local comedy scene. The comedians are funny and they are all supportive.

On this trip my actions made someone cry. I'm a narc for my profession. I caught someone doing something and I narced. I don't know if I can narc anymore. I wish I could travel to places without the narc part. I'm not supposed to bust people, I'm supposed to be getting busted.

Anyways, thank you to the spirit of
New Mexico.

Dead rose alive

I was never last but I was never first
this times different in a way
this time someone has lifted the curse
this is the year of a new day
the dead rose has come back to life
I was awake and I remember that
I remember the day we made the alliance
the week that burned all the fat
we played for crowds of fans
we signed paper plates for girls
our radio interview was unplanned
but we were ruling our own world
how was something so perfect then
so much magic made me take a different look
letting go of the concept of sin
and taking the moment to write a new book
I love our book and the spirit inside
this is the way the ancients felt
our time had stopped there wasn't even pride
It was contagious made fear melt
I've got it again and I write this to you
I see inside your gut to something lost
it's just covered but it's as good as new
let's play again it's worth any cost

Unsolicited advice

When you're not doing well in life people tend to give you a lot of advice. It's usually advice that you didn't ask for. I think it was Todd Glass who said that comedians really can't give other comics advice because essentially all they are doing is telling the other comic how to be more like them. That's only going to fuck the comic up. The comic is on a journey. The first part of the journey is about making people laugh, a lot. The second part is about finding out who they truly are and becoming that person on stage. Even if they are just playing a character it's a character that came from inside themselves. It's something that's coming from the truth within you.

No one knows what's going on inside you. That's a solo expedition. You're on your own. You can get half way successful by following some bullshit path that your parents forced down your throat but true success comes from within. So why the advice? Because people don't like it when other people are getting away with something. "I followed daddy's rules, why isn't he?"

Maybe with some outward labels that say he's winning at the game of life he feels he can tell you what you're doing wrong. Look inside. And keep looking, this is where the gold is, and fuck all the sell outs. Anyone who ignored the inner universe to make daddy happy is no one to listen too.

There is an exception. The reason why most comics can't write jokes for other comics is because they only know their own voice. But there is a special breed of comic that is so aware he can understand your voice and write for it. The thing is you can't work with this guy until you have taken that journey within and discovered your voice. Judd Appatow is one of those guys. Don't take advice from anyone who doesn't have the character and an example of living that you really want. Other than those guys you are better off looking within, like I said there's gold in there.

Something that could

Remember when you're alive
try to stay calm
This is the moment you've wanted
it's in your palm
breath in
take a look around
It's so simple
To see what you've found
I have love
From both places
I see God in many faces
A template for life
It can't be seen
It's moments of glory
and the space in between
The nothing
This stuff is good
The nothing is something
It's something that could

Use then loose

The words are guides
don't hold on
from all sides
illusions spawn
use the tools
from the box
heavens fools
throw the rocks
but somewhere deep
the words lead
till you reap
the fruit of seed
the sacred place
remains unknown
with words that race
for weeds have grown
it's just your mind
let it go
make the find
it takes so slow