I was looking up Zodiac signs, and the different qualities that they, supposedly, come with.  That stuffs pretty interesting.  A lot of people talk about em.  I can get the philosophy I guess.  Like, gravity controls the universe, right?  Idk but..

You can’t afford to be indesisive

because in this life you gotta try shit

cause if you never try it

how can you ever know if you like it

now i’m not talking about everything

there are lines that set the proper things

but im all up for stretching frames

and hopefully it helps with growing things

throwing things can teach you things

simple touch and reach it brings

hitting is another thing

but often times we miss a swing

Ok

So, I know I’ve been posting a couple of silly poems, but I also have other stuff on my mind.  I don’t really like the “idea” of predication, although how else are we supposed to set the basis of ourselves, whatever we are talking about, whatever. You know? We can never make someone understand us, all we can do is explain ourselves.  So like… everything we say is predication, because we live in the future. Right?

Anyway,,,  I understand that I was not very good at predicating, talking persay… in my younger years. I’m a little better at it now.  I promise.  However, before I wouldn’t say that I couldn’t express myself, it was just, I was just, simply at awe at the complexity of thought, and the experience of the world.  You know,,uhh,,, rather spacy.  I still can be, often, at times.  It’s a little more like a choice now.

Right so… I initially logged on to write some other random poem on taxes.  I’ll get to that in a min… And then I was watching some video on anythingtube, and it was all like, “think about shit”, and “express yourself”, and “share with people”, and blah blah blah.  So now I’m making some type-ical attempt to do so… with like,, words and all that crazy, linguistic, expressive shit, that English, and other, previous languages that I don’t know,(….. Yet;) have blessed us with.  Using English.

And I’m not in any way, by any means, all about English.  I want to learn, and totally respect all languages, and dialects.  I am still trying to learn how to say hello in every know language, just cause that would be cool, and my Spanish and French is decently terrible.  I want to be able to get by in both,,, and maybe Mandarin,,, or whatever Leonardo Decaprio speaks in “Blood Diamond”, gangster shit haha.

So yeah, what was I gonna say

Oh yeah right!  English is the top-baller language.  Only because it’s the newest.  Simply, nothing is off limits in the english language.  I can say fo shizzle, and everyone knew what I meant.  Why?  Because it’s phonetically relatable?  Because Snoop Dogg said it?  I don’t know. Sidebar:

I had this friend named Keezy.  All the theezy’s we teezy beezeed were ending in eezy.  Ya kneezy.  It was pretty teezy.

English has the most words,,,, by far…  Is the word hotdog 1 word, or 2?  Or is it 3 words?  Hmmm… who know’s?  That’s not even the coolest thing.  English is pretty much spoken with the tongue, and of coarse lips, and stomach, and face,,,,,,,,,,,, but there’s not a lot of throaty sounds, like Asian, or Native American languages.  Also the tongue is the closest organ to the brain.  The first place you touch someone with, both conversationally, and romantically.

I happen to believe that English  is the closest thing to telepathy, one can argue for body language and I would fully enjoy a conversation on the topic.  Basically, we aren’t inventing any forms of speech after English as a human race.  The language will simply continue to evolve, but the grammatical foundation for the ability of expression, through English, is infinite.  You can’t pass what goes on forever though.

So that was a whole little rant about my thoughts, paraphrased, on language.  I have opinions on a lot of stuff.  Like,,, how I feel about the brand Nike.  All I can say about the brand Nike is , that stuff is Tops!  (btw i think im making tops my catchphrase, don’t be a shwakker) The fact that I will wear pretty much any Nike product, any place, at any time, is probably due to proper product placement in my athletic, formative years, and the fact that the swoosh is the most legit logo ever.  I will have a closet full of Nike sneakers before I die, mark my words.  Just do it.

Opinions are differential in value and circumstance.  For example, my opinions on Nike differ from my opinions onnnn,,,, let’s take taxes.  A very simple issue, in my opinion.  I feel that.. If a country is going to be subjected to an authoritative, organised, governing, ummmm government, then we have to pay taxes.  Obvious, no questions asked.  Because, if we participate in a belief of organised structure, where the views of the general public are funneled into demographics, which are represented by people, elected by people, represent the beliefs of the people in those demographics, those people must have “money”, or make shit happen tickets, to get paid and, more importantly, enact those beliefs.

I think that every monetary trade, whether business to business, person to business, income from business, or any sales from or for business, should be taxed 1%… Or whatever would work.  No tax return.  No write off’s.  Not fucking brackets.  You’re getting taxed 1% fool.  Whatever.  You don’t like it?  Whatever.  I think it makes sense.  Idk… and obviously you can’t tax, like toothfairy money, or kickin your homie 5 bucks for a burger, or giving a homeless guy a buck.  You should give homeless peeps a buck.  Their lives suck more than yours.  For whatever reason.

The relationship of differential values in opinions, such as my opinions of Nike and  “taxes”, derives from this thought.  My opinion of Nike is personal.  If you personally don’t think Nike is tops, then I personally don’t give a fuck.  Taxes are different.  Like,,, that shits important.  It’s like,, interpersonal, or extrapersonal, or somewatevr.

Ima go to bed

You don’t like it, Just top it haha

ode to skateboarding

Do I wanna fall this 20 feet?

Well, first I have to land this first kickflip

I mean everyone can ollie

landing the 1st one wasn’t even nollie

But, a little timing becomes touchy

Now, I’m like wheely stalling

and barely falling

I met the first step

I jumped to 3rd step

Now this feels right

I’m grinding out what’s left.

So impressed but never feeling it’s the best.

So only the best in-sane-Lee

Continue doing the inxane things

I mean it’s the x games

And we go so craze

to see these crazy things

of peoples masteringz

the balance and heart

the motion of the art

the simple twitch we make

can really tear we to shreds

I mean remember me what’s left

I know i throw myself out there

I may never land on my feet

but the board will fall before me

Should I write everything I want to?
Probably not.
Should I fight all the things I want to?
Probably want.
Should I report to who I can to?
Probably huh?
Should I do simple things I can do?
Probably sought.
Should I try anything I can’t do?
Probably taunt.
Should I do everything I got to?
Probably haunt.
Should I do it?
Hopefully.

Tales from the Trip (Faster in Texas

So after getting back from Mexico, finding that a bunch of my, very exposed, equipment was stolen, taking a couple hits and deciding to bug out, I decided that trying to ride my bike out of El Paso and into the heart of Texas, was ignorant suicide.  So I made a slow rollin motion choice.  I mean, I just sauntered on down the street with a busted bike carriage, a busted bag of stuff, and a busted ass wallet.

Then I lost my phone.

I was super excited at this point to get the fuck on the road.  My bike trailer that I had carried all the way through Arizona and New Mex. broke down and I had to dump it.  As well as, too much, of my remaining equipment.  I again had my neck out in the super hood, and was just so stoked to drop about 50 or so pounds, and continue to get the fuck on down the road.

I rode for a while and then pulled into a little diner for some stuff.  I hung out and grubbed on super dank chicken strips, and a bacon cheeseburger, and coleslaw,,, and french fries.

I need food now in real life.

Peace to eat

Nicky P.

Tales From The Trip (Some Times

I haven’t really been involved in writing much this last month or so.  It’s so funny, and like not awesome at, how good habits are so hard to form, and so easy to break.  Of coarse the reverse of that is how our nature is our nature and to defy that with logic, or passion, or any other aspect of our drive to persevere, is what makes being human so amazingly complex.  Like, it’s ummm…. not only our choice to envision how we want to live, but then to deal with the reality of implementing our vision.  Cool…

One of my favorite times along this trip was my walk into Mexico.

I crossed the border, using one of the pedestrian bridges, into Ciadad Juarez with 15 dollars and change in my pocket.  I locked all of my possessions to a fence, tucked behind a dumpster, in the backlot of a Church’s Chicken.  I just had to do it and walk away and try my hardest not to trip on the idea that all of my most important possessions in the world, at the time, were protected by the cover of a refuse container.

It was a couple quick blocks to the border and took no time to cross into a whole new country.  I had no idea where I was going, where the visitor center was (ha), and what I was going to even say when I did get somewhere.  So I did what I felt comfortable with and walked straight into the first bar/club I saw.  It was called ZOO.

I quickly realized that unlike Tiajuana, most of the locals here spoke no English.  In that situation I just smile and nod and everything works out.  Oh yeah! and find the first mutha fucker that speaks English and by him/her a beer.

So I haggled with the guy at the door, in terrible espanyolo, and settled on paying the five buck entry fee, but receiving 2 beers in exchange.  I tipped him a buck and got a homie on the inside.

The flow of the place was tight.  I figured out it was ladies night pretty quick because there were male strippers doing male stripper things.  I went off to the side and stood to observe, sticking out like a six foot, white thumb.  Me Primo walked up.  He said, “what’s good dogg? What are you doin out here?”  I said, “you wanna beer?”  The recipe for instant homeboiii’s.

His name was Mr. Hblah Villablahblah.  We started chit chatting.  He spoke perfect American English.  He told me he spent high school in Oklahoma, and was deported after his marriage license was rejected.  I didn’t ask to many questions,,,,, until a few days later.

Well I’m running out of time at the public lib.  I’ll pick this one back up soon.

Take it ez y’all

Tales From The Trip (Seligman and Boston

J, Bush and I pulled into this sleepy town, the starting point of Route 66, in separate ways.  I’ll explain later…

like right now.

Basically J and Bush were picked up about 7 miles outside of town by a sheriff, and were escorted to town, pulling up at the exact same time that I was exiting the freeway.  It was wonderful timing.

I had left them about 13 miles from town and took off on the bike, because again,,,,,, we were running low on water.  I’ll tell you, that shit goes so quick with 2 peeps and a big dog, working their tales 😉 off just to get down the road.  We had refiled our full, 4 gallon, supply at Willow Creek.  Fresh water.  We made it almost the whole way to Seligman, but like always, we had to made some quick choices.

What happened was, after we found our beautiful perch on top of a road side hill in northwest AZ, off the side of the 40 fwy, and woke up in the morning to an extremely depleted supply of liquid life, we started having chats.

I left her and and the dog with the rest of the water, and a quick, 13 mile stroll down the road.  I rode ahead on the bike.  The plan was for me to take the gear and the bike ahead to go get water and food and then go back to meet them while they were walking down the road towards town.  That didn’t go as planned.

What happened was much better!  J and B were driven to town, by a very polite officer, and I didn’t have to ride back to get them.  The dude even offered to drive me back to my stuff that I had to ditch for the time being (carrying an extra 50 pounds or so was not conducive to quick travel) and we all settled into our new home.  The side of a Cheveron in Seligman, AZ…. For the time being.