17 Washington Street

17 washington street

 

One of the things I was thinking about this morning, had to do with finding out what real life and real life experiences had to offer, compared to just sitting before The Big Screen and watching it on YouTube or some other seeing-device.  Seems I came to rest with the notion of The Other Washington,  which is on the west coast of America and about as far as I can get away from Washington D.C. and the headline news coming from this center and of course, just now coming from Trump Tower in downtown New York City.  So 17 Washington is just an address and it could be anywhere.  We can talk about that if we decide to.  For now,  it is more important for me to discover where my head is at on this Friday November 18, 2016 morning.  Seems my starting point is 17 Washington Street and I am headed south from that point on 2^nd avenue.  And yes,  going south with the birds and its all down-hill or down-wind from here.  Hawks and Eagles and sometimes I wonder if all of this is a made-up story, made up for reality TV and entertainment purposes, and has nothing at all to do with my everyday life, except that I am a captive of everything and everywhere Internet, and have been swept along by the influences.

 

And so I say I am headed south on 2^nd avenue, but the truth is I have no idea what is propelling me and influencing my rate or direction of travel, and where I might end up.  Is Just November 2016 and I was looking forward to be out and about,  taking in the Christmas Lights and Decorations and Store Fronts.  But of course now, almost everything is happening on a screen, and not on the street where I happen to be.  Screen Life and I am being swept along.  And that has me thinking, “…Is 17 Washington Street a good starting point for the adventure and journey I am on?

 

Mention 17 Washington St. and I could be almost anywhere, and the whole idea is to enjoy the moment of diversity and capture the sense of various things, based on the very idea, we have a starting point, and it is exciting to imagine where we might end up.  From one coast to another.  From one Washington to the other, Washington D.C. and a white house with picket or barb-wired fence.  Can see it now.  Then fast forward and out of town, before the protest starts.

 

People and their finest hour getting ready for something, perhaps far enough from you and I, that we feel safe.  Nantucket Rental in November, before the Holiday crowds arrive.  Before Thanksgiving and its still 17 Washington Street, but he says.  “Nantucket.”  Forget where I am.  Washington.  The Other Washington.  Massachusetts.  Somewhere. 

 

And the point of all this is  from the starting point going south and where possible might I end up,   I could end up just about anywhere, if I pack my bags and fold my wings, and go along with the birds in migration.  Hawks and Eagles and F-17, even Stealth.  Flying high.  Birds.  Am I safe?

Am starting to wonder.  Will I be able to return to 17 Washington Street?  And will it be familiar to me.  Was in a fog.  Had a late night out and tried to sleep it off, but was up early and had the urge to get outside.  So hit the streets and the last thing I remember was the address:  17 Washington Street.  But not sure where I was.  Washington State.  Washington D.C.  East Coast.  West Coast.  Real Time.  Or on the internet.  Drones.  Birds.  Flight.  And is a multi-dimensional state of affairs.  Displacement and is an advantage of modern times. 

 

Now I have to look at the bigger picture and hope that bringing my smart phone with GPS can help locate me, and we can do a search and inquiry.  “Where Are You?   “Are you safe?”

Is a strange place to be.  Trapped between inquiry and fact.  Trapped between real time and Big Screen.  And where we are, is less important that where we are going.  Migration and the Birds.  His mind is fixated with that.  Recent concerns have nothing to do with where I was this morning.  Starting point and it seems proper to say it over and over again.  “ 17 Washington Street. “

But now we have to be in the present moment.  Confront things like “being live”, and more important  “Live traffic and the wrong lane when the light turns green, or red or just yellow, which depending where we are, is a caution light.  Strange to now be concerned with driving directions and road conditions and live traffic.  But then again, all of that will take its proper place in this story, once I figure out where I am and which 17 Washington Street is facing me, and dictating what happens next.

 

Started out in Washington State in a place called Seattle.  Was on 2^nd avenue and heading south.  It was early and it was foggy, and I might have had a hangover from last night’s shenanigans.  With the flock or group, or flying solo, not sure how high I was.  Started at street level, but then am not sure what happened next.  Can’t Remember.  Not sure how I got here.  Washington.  Massachusetts.  South of the Mason-Dixon Line.  If and When and How is not coming into focus just now.  Free flying and just in formation.  The headwinds are slowing us down, but am not sure if we really have solid plans and a committed ETA.  Travel industry terminology:  estimated time of arrival.  Just know.  Started on 17 Washington Street and if this blog and story has a happy ending, I hope to be touching down and returning there soon.

 

Is a strange place to be.  Trapped between this mornings adventure and this afternoon’s blog state of mind.  Not sure this is really happening to me.  Real Time.  Blog Fantasy.  Birds in Migration.  Map it.  Find out what is really going on.  Call one of your buddies at The State Department and see if they can track the GPS.  The possibilities are endless.  What is the importance of travel insurance at a time like this?  Many things to think about, and I wonder if it is too late now. 

 

For me this is a new experience.  Not sure taking a Selfie with the new smartphone will help, or even make me feel better.  Not sure it aids me in a positive when the voice in my head asks:  “Where are we?  Where do we  go from here?  Are we safe?”    And this but more proof for me to consider later when I am told:  “Is a strange place to be.  This  17 Washington Street.”

 

Wonder if the reader has any interest in this.  Wonder if they might have any useful advice.  What happen when Keene, New Hampshire and 17 Washington Street is calling to you.  What if you feel lost and the only thing you recognize is Starbuck Coffee Shop?  Seems like this could be a starting point when you are lost.  Starbucks and will they call you a taxi.  Will Uber get you home?  Arrival.  Departure.  Means of transportation.  Speed of travel. 

When I started out this morning, I did not consider any of that.  Now I wish I had.  Getting the idea that there is an extensive database of all the places that actually have a place called:  17 Washington Street.  Wonder if I should have thought of that earlier.  Is this an acquired taste or interest, and is it accessible on a need-to-know-basis only?  Later I will check into that.  For now I find myself in slipstream and turbulence.  It might only be on screen, or only in my mind.  Might not be a real time and present moment thing I face.

Having said that I will go from here.  The starting point.  17 Washington Street.  And is with many things related to travel and urban places, I will ask myself.  “Am I safe?”

 

Cosmic Strip

Cosmic Strip

 

Today’s blog will touch upon something,  that lurks and surrounds me with a thin veil that can’t be decoded and deciphered in one breath.  Started out as a Freudian Slip, and suddenly I am at the point-of-no-return and one slip is replaced by another, and my mind loses focus and concentration.  Victoria Secret.  Click.  Click.  And is not funny how my period of concentration is but 8 seconds long.

From one thing to another, and is not retained for very long.  Obsolete before it is fully processed and shared with the masses, before it goes viral and is reported to have achieved a million views.  Adventure and what turns out to be registered as a Cosmic Slip, was meant to have a touch of comedy and fun and laughter.  Not sure we are laughing now, but we can enjoy the ironic state of things, and before we know it,  the point we are making will be obsolete.

 

Wanted to write a blog, but up to now, haven’t given it that much thought.  Without thinking I find myself here.  Must be genetics and biology.  Must be mother’s wishes.  “Let’s get together.  I’m 16.  Time is a wasting.  Let’s create.”  And not sure whose voice I am hearing.  Voices in my head, and that has been going on for a while.  Need to find a hobby.  Need to stop repeating what others are saying.  Need to get off the Internet and away from Face-Book.  But then, again I find it almost impossible to do.  Social and I have my Web/Electronic Wi-Fi paid up for another 6 months.  “Waste not.  Want not.”  Mother said.  “Age 16.  Youth and adventure and our finest hour.”  Let’s create.

And without thinking.  Here I am.  Biology and genetics and I account for it as G-D-given, but sure mother must be given more credit. She knew.  And it happened.  Never under estimate the power of womanhood.  Must be mother’s wishes.  Her children.  Cosmic Strip and creation.  And we have that to be thankful for.  What mother said.   What mother did.  Her children.  Now me.  Born with the urge to write.  To express.  To display consciousness.  Cosmic Strip Tease converted from a Comic Strip mother was reading when she said.   “…. I am age 16.  Let’s get together.”

 

Space .  Weather.  Balloon.  Adventures and my expectation is rising.  Not frozen in place by the winter that comes with solace and on the calendar is given a date.  Depends on where you are, when winter comes and goes.  Without detailing north or south, one never knows.  But this blog has international reach and is global to the extent that north and south, converts easily to east and west, and he has learned.  Follow The Birds.  Rise above everyday habits of locality.  See the big picture,  top down.  Space.  Weather.  Balloon.

 

All elements of the cosmic slip and part of the things I write about.  Seasons and Changes.  And children.  Long winter and getting together , leads to something in Spring and Summer.  Another birth.  Another branch of creation reached.  And this is something I wanted to mention.  The unfolding of cosmic consciousness, because of the birth of one like me.  Biology and Gender.  The tender trap and the unfolding of something we did not see, but now do.  Cosmic Strip.  Victoria Secret.  Convergence.  One and the same.  What mother said.  Birth of the children and the birth of promise and hope and growing development and love.  World-wide.

Midweek and the middle of November.  This blog needs to be written and posted, but will not be The Book of Answers for the things most important.  Instead it is  a sight-line to fractals of shoreline that allow water and earth to touch.  A place for migrating birds to descent and rest.  Before moving on and completing their journey.  Winter solace and I am looking for the next place to set down and enjoy the surface of friends and celebration and company.  Mother said it.  “Let’s get together.”

 

On earth, as in heaven, let the pattern and cycle of creation repeat.  Cosmic strip and find it funny, as comic strip becomes one drink too many, at the office party or just during the holidays, when it seems the right thing to do.  Give others a little slice of your time.  Be social.  Have fun.  Celebrate.  Read about it in the Sunday Paper.  Have a laugh or two.  Make nice and enjoy the opportunity.  To be together.

 

To me this time of year is both celebration and mystery.  Visible but elusive is how I got here and acquired the ability to tell you in a blog, why our existence is important.  Why its important to provide food and a landing spot for migrating birds.  Sky gods and birds in spin and flight as the rotation of the day bring us in proximity.  Humans and Animal Kingdom are aligned and are connected.

Not sure about the details, but know this is true.  We come and we go, but over time it seems,  this time of year around the winter solace, and it is important that I remember to check the bird feeder and the pond.  Is it frozen.  Is this a good place to land.  Will there be food and safety?  And if there is,  I will account for it by taking a few minutes to blog and mention it.  Celebration and Mystery.  My existence.  And the flight of birds.  In winter.  Important to take a moment to share this with others.  Our time together. 

And the importance of it all.  What mother said.

“Let’s create something we can be proud of.  Human-kind.  Conceived in Love.   Our Children.   “

Cosmic.  Now hidden meaning.  Planets. Humans.  Birds and Animals.  Align.  Give birth to consciousness and life.  Repeated.   In a blog.    From nothing to something. And It is special. 

This Cosmic  Strip.

Migration of the Birds

And

Mothership

Revealed    And     Blog Sighted. 

Odd Numbered Days

Odd Numbered Days

There are some days when you just don’t want to get out of bed.  There are days when you need some extra time for yourself, and you hide under the covers.  Day and Night, and light change and this is the week and perhaps the week after also where I watch my body adapt and accept what has happened. 

 

Seems like it is a process that I do and it is different each time I do it.  Now yesterday, or should I say, “….Last Night…”, I was at a football game in a stadium near where I walk and live.  Joined by 70,000 others, and we became the late night crowd and were on the camera, watching others play football, NFL style.  They turned the lights on and it was as if artificial stimulation excited the senses and the pineal gland, and for four hours everybody was at peak energy and on the edge of their seats.  At times like this, just an hour or so from midnight and the start of another day, one loses track.  Is this an odd day or a regular day?  And for the sake of this blog, I made the title more specific.  Odd  Numbered Days.

DO YOU EVER SAY SOMETHING SO MEAN 

AND UR LIKE DAMN I NEED TO CHILL   LOL

 

Monday was a big day for me.  Last night and yesterday.  Monday Night Football and I was in attendance.  Now it is Tuesday morning and for the record, an even numbered day.  11/08/2016.  Voting Day in America.  Big day for the nation.  Is but one day, and the idea that our days are numbered is an interesting idea.  So I am writing about that, when I could be going on and on about so many other things, people deem important.  But its odd.  I will not be doing much of that.  “Doing What?”  Asks one person, late coming to the party.

Is not a blog about The American Election.  But of course, for many it is what makes it the day they have been waiting for and anticipating.  As for me,  I might be one of the Odd Ones.  Stuck on an odd-numbered day,  November 7, 2016 and my body and my mind is still at the game.  At the game, and in a stupor.  Was agonizing going up and down, and staying with the team, as the score changed often and it was obvious,  “Our Team Could Lose.”  Win or Lose and some will say, “It is not winning or losing, but how you play the game.”

 

As for me,  I am strictly a win or go home type of guy.  Coming in second has always been associated with an Odd Day.  Reminders of coming up short and what it means to go back to work and work harder.  Not sure if I want to give you the case file of a A-Personality, but over the years I have learned as part of my history.  “I hate to lose.”  Oh wait. 

We must learn to get along with each other.

 

"The difference?  This time I won't wait by my phone.  I won't text you every day to remind you that I exist.  I won't 

 give you that power anymore.

You want me?

You will have to show me some love.

 

“Hate is too strong a word to use at a time like this.”   I dislike losing or coming in second.  But as we know, being second to last and being discounted by the judges and peers is a painful experience.  So we minimize it and try not to repeat that particular event.  Does that mean we stop trying?  Maybe not.  Not sure it matters if it is an Odd Day or an Even Day, losing is never as we thought it would be.  And this brings me back to an earlier statement.  “Our Days are Numbered.”

 

For a few days it will be The Talk of the Town.  Everywhere we go, you will hear somebody saying, or will see on the TV or in the media:  “Did you know that XYZ won?”  And of course because it is front page news and important on this Even Numbered Day, it doesn’t seem odd at all that this is all people are talking about.  By next week, it will be Old News.  If we are interested or just hooked in to the communications of the day, we will have heard.  “XYZ Won.”

 

And hopefully this will not upset us, nor be the catalyst for news and activity that will upset us, and turn our world upside down.  Stoney was at the game, but is sleeping in on Tuesday.  Others will be out and about doing what they have scheduled for this day.  Voting Day in America.  And he is sleeping in.  But that is okay, we are modern now.  Early voting and sent in by mail and well, we are modern now.  Matters not in this case, as he made other arrangements.  Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, just means that he is feeling odd on this even numbered day, and has chosen to sleep in.

Rest his body and his mind.  Blames it all on DayLight Savings Change and messing with his body clock and the light.  Has nothing to do with America’s Election on November 8 2016.  Or at least that seems logical in light of the situation.  The whole thing has made him sick.  The NFL football game and it was violent.  At the game and both the players and the fan, some got hurt.  Were in harms way.  And Stoney reminds himself on this Odd Numbered Day, “Stay in bed.  Sleep in.”