As For The Laws . . .

When I listen to people talk about punishment or the penalties with regards to crimes, especially crimes of violence or crimes that involve substance abuse or any abuse for that matter, I often wonder if people fail to realize that punishment is not always a deterrent.
Keep in mind, I say this while thinking about some of the people I have met throughout my life. To them, time is just time. And to them, whether their time is spent in places like Rikers or Otisville, Sing Sing, Downstate, Federal or in a State facility and out of state or otherwise, to them, there is no worry or regard for the law.

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A Mild Bout (with insomnia)

I find myself awake at times and on the couch. I find myself moving in different directions of thought. Take last night, for example. There I was on the couch, listening to the rain as it fell against the skylights on my rooftop. I hear this like a thousand footsteps; as if the raindrops fall in teams of countless soldiers on a mission, which is perfect though, because the rainfall somehow matches the way I feel.
The truth is I don’t mind the rain so much. I don’t mind the storms, which keep the streets empty and vacant from man or woman. I like the quiet sounds and the grayness in the sky. I call this the lullaby of all lullabies. However, last night, there was no rockabye baby from the treetops. The wind blew but no cradle did rock. No, I suppose there weren’t enough sheep to count last night. at least, not for a while.

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My Friend Mike The Rocket Once Said . . .

No one knows what tomorrow brings. And no one knows the hour or the day. Nobody knows what will come and who will go. Nothing is ever guaranteed. And I know what we are supposed to say. I know what people tell us. I know all about the power of positive thinking. I understand visualization and the need to create a picture for ourselves; otherwise, if you can’t see what you want then how can you get it?
I understand the laws of nature. I understand what happens when we step out of line and the unfortunate lessons which follow. I also know how the lessons become increasingly worse when we don’t learn the first time.

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Accountability

The following story is not necessarily mine to tell and the views in the following paragraphs might not be shared by others. However, these views are mine. These are my thoughts about a night back in the month of what I believe was September in 1987. This is a story about an elderly woman named Mary. She was known as Crazy Mary, which is an unkind thing to say but facts are facts and the truth is history is unconcerned with our feelings or opinion. 

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Just to Smile

They say springtime is coming in less than one month. This means our half of the northern hemisphere will tilt closer towards the sun. This means more daylight and an earlier sunrise. This means warmer weather too, which means summer will be here before we know it.
As for now, I am writing to you with no agenda in mind. In fact, I am watching the orange hue build from the horizon in the east. There is a white line in the sky, which is the sign of a jet plane, flown over my home at a place I call Wesley Hills. I am on the verge of something here. And so are you, for that matter. We all are.

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This Is Insomnia

It is a little after 3:00 in the morning . . .
I yawn while laying on the couch because the bed frustrates me when I can’t sleep.
Ever get this way?
I find myself traversing between sleep and dreams and then waking up, wondering and thinking too much of course about insignificant things. And then I’m awake (like now, for example) with my mind in a million places at once.

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You Asked If I Pray

If asked if I believe then I would say yes, I do believe in something. I believe there is something out there. Maybe it’s just energy. Maybe what I believe in is a balance to the unbalanced life we live. Maybe it’s just a need to have something on my side, or maybe this is me talking to myself, which is something that I do often. But again, if asked do I believe in prayers then my answer is yes, I do believe in the power of prayer. This is not so much about my belief in God or the lack thereof. It is not even about religion, let alone an organized religion, or about a man or woman who stands on an altar or at a podium and tells me what to say or how and when. 

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More from Abstract: Brain Spillage

I go down the old streets sometimes, in memory of course, or in dreams, or in pictured flashbacks of times when time was less crucial.
Life was much simpler then. Me, you, us, the world as it was and how it’s changed.
I go through the different locations that were if anything; safe to say these were the birthplaces of my life because to me, it is accurate to say that yes, we are born more than once.

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Stream Of Consciousness: Abstract On, Contact Enabled.

As I see it, we all have our ways of doing things. And me, I write.
I write my thoughts to keep them from gravity. I write to replace thoughts with action and to stop the momentum of my ideas that tend to grow legs and run off into crazy directions. Hence, the anxiety, which is why I write to remove the shame or stigma of being nothing else but normal
(if there is such a thing).

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