Thursday, November 29, 2007

standing in front of the mirror doing bicep curls

how can you be a man when you have a shiny nose?
the smooth lifting of these weights is not comforting, though i take pride in it.
my eyes confirm that this is not the answer-
it doesn't surprise me that the cornerstones of weight lifting are repetition and overload.
you give the body more than it can take for longer than it wants, and thats how you build a body.
Men are purposeful. they lift, they place, they protect. thats how you build and keep a house.
They lift only to place, and place only to protect, and protect only to...
well, why do men protect?
will I know when my nose stops clogging?

Monday, November 26, 2007


I drove to the bay off of 2nd street, intending to swim. I took my boxers and shirt off in the car, then tidily put my shorts back on. I walked out to the bay's water, and the sand was weak and dirty beneath my feet. My toes sank into its gray mess, and the water seemed stagnant and filthy.
I laid out on the sand, tried to relax and get a tan. The sun was weak- it was about 12:30. I laid out close to the curb of the street, with my stomach up, and a long sleeve T-shirt over my face. The sand felt good. After a while I turned on over and let the sand hit my back... i rested my chin on the T for a while, before I put it aside and my face laid on the sand, slightly lifted at the neck. I blew on small little clumps of sand, then watched the shadows between the clumps. I saw little images and faces in both the shadows and the clumps- sometimes fully formed, at other times just suggestions.
I thanked the sand out loud for allowing me a place to lay and rest my head- once quietly, and then loudly, as Don Juan said was the right way to thank plants for your picking of them.
In any case it was only for a few minutes. I needed to piss so I got up and looked for an alley of some sort. All the alleys in Belmont Shore are brightly lit and have open windows with white curtains nearby, so I headed to the beach. I used a public restroom there, and then went for a run. I decided that a long, man made formation of rocks extending about a half mile into the ocean would be a good goal for my run- it was about 3/4 of a mile from where I started running. I ran at a poor pace and with poor form, off of the cross country team for 12 months now, but I tried not to think about it. As i neared the rock formation (which had roughly the shape and length of a pier) I pictured myself running and jumping across the rocks, all the way to the end, and doing a glorious dive into the water. I pictured myself swimming back to shore, exhausted and happy and strong.
I was out of breath when I got to the rocks but I climbed onto them and started hopping and running the best I could, pretty quickly. There were big feral cats hidden in the rocks that watched me with interest. That was the sort of thing between the rocks- cats, trash, plastic bags, discarded tackle and bait. My breath was loud and my movements clumsy, as my body winced at the jagged rocks I found my footing on. A fisherman looked at me warily and said to me as I passed "Be careful of hooks and things". I responded "Yeah" and immediatly I regretted it. If i was stronger I would have ignored him- wouldn't have validated his concern. If i was strong enough to not be hurt by a hook I could have easily ignored him, but I was weak and agreed with him in my mind that I could fall prey to a rusty hook.
Discouraged, I slowed down, and eventually started just cautiously moving from rock to rock, no longer running. Still, seldom was there a rock that was not jagged or abrasive to move over. Almost every footing I found was precarious and painful. After moving forward over the rocks for a distance more, I looked into the horizon, to gauge how far I was from the end of the rock pier, and saw that I was only about halfway to the end. I gave up, and started to turn around. I looked back, hesitant. I didn't want to give up. I wanted to get to the end, jump into the water, swim back, acquire personal power. I wanted to do something that would bring me fortune and make me knowledgeable and I already knew that, by stopping my running, I had lost some of the potential gain for personal power to be had in this trial. That was my thinking at the time: It was a trial, and the reward for success was personal power.
I had created justifications in my mind for turning back: nothing special would happen when I reached the end and jumped in, I would just be cold and shivering. I'm not a strong swimmer I won't be able to make it back anyway. You have things to do at home. There's no point. I felt torn- I knew that I was being called by power to power. Still, I resisted.
I walked over many rocks backwards, until I noticed something- my shadow was cast in front of me. Whereas, if I faced my body to the end of the pier, My shadow was directly behind me. Then for the first time I saw the brilliant sunlight, and the way it cast a shine onto all the waves beyond the horizon in either direction of the rocks. My shadow was behind me and as long as I moved forward it would stay behind me and I would not see it and could not it. I moved forward again, walking. I decided that, because the sun seemed to be shining right down the middle of the rock formation, I would move forward in a straight line, down the middles of the rocks. This was not easy- often I passed by smooth rocks to the right or left, to take footing on jagged, small ones in the middle. But it helped me to take my mind off the slow, painful pace I had.
Walking in this manner, I came to a rock that was cracked into two pieces- a deep crevice was between them, almost right down the middle of the rock and in the middle of the rock formation. I placed a foot on each side of the rock, and waited a bit, hoping something special would happen. I noticed a fly on the right half of the split rock, and watched it the best I could. My attention strayed, and several times I looked away, but I stayed on the rock and watched the fly, looking for a sign of what to do next, watching especially for the direction in which it would fly. I don't know why I did this but it seemed like the obvious thing to do. I waited perhaps three minutes, before I decided to focus my attention on the shadow of a nearby rock. I stared at the shadow hard and tried to practice what Don Juan called "not doing". Then the fly flew up, in a circle briefly, and landed on the left side of the rock. I took this as the sign and started to move forward.
Not long after I saw a cockroach skitter in a leftward direction down a rock. I kept moving- my feet ached and my body wanted to stop and rest, but I kept moving, slowly, but deliberatly. I felt several times that I was playing with power- not really going about the acquisition of it the right way, and that I would be hurt and punished. My thoughts kept returning to Don Juan. I then remembered that left was the side on which death always followed you. The fly and the cockroach had both moved left. As I got closer to the end of the rock formation, I moved slightly to the left.
As I neared the end, I came to a gull. I started moving on leftward rocks, because the sea gull was on the right and i thought that he would not move if i kept moving on the left. When I got close, he flew up and behind me, and landed on some leftward rocks about 30 feet behind. I was very close to the end of the rock pier. I moved on, and some gulls took off as I approached the gray, metal tower structure that stood about 12 feet high at the very end. I watched them fly and land in the water to the left side of the pier, and felt like that was how far I would have to swim before I could give up and climb up onto the rocks again.
I rested on the base of the tower for a while. I looked around at the rocks that the water lapped agaisnt. The wind was strong and I saw masses of kelp swaying in the current, along with different types of mussels and plants. Large crabs scurried and hid under dark, green, jagged, rocks. A worm floated in a pool of water on one rock near the tower- It's face was like that of a sea cucumber, but on closer inspection I think that it had been torn apart and what looked like a gaping mouth was its guts flouting of its abdomen. At any rate, it was dead.
A large pelican with a bright orange beak stared down at me strangely when I returned to the base of the tower. He held eye contact with me, and I knew that he would have the final say In what I would do next.
"What say you oh wise one?" I asked. He flew up and away, seeming to glide on the breeze. He cruised over the air headed inland over the rock formation, and then dived to the left, into the water, in a terrific splash, a ways beyond the other gulls who were now floating. I knew that I had to go swimming.
I edged my way onto a rock that stuck far out. The water looked cold. The kelp was blowing in a dark,green, wave of life. My body was literally contorted in hesitation, knowing that I would, but knowing I could also turn around, give it up, fail.
I dived in and the water burned and gnawed at me like teeth on fire. The cold was too cold, and I did a weak imitation of swimming. Arms forward, stroke by stroke. colder than I can ever remember. I remembered my feet and tried to kick with them but they were took weak, I felt them being sucked down. This was truly a trial of power. I swam to a gull on a rock- though other gulls and even the pelican laid beyond, I didn't have the strength or will to swim farther than to the first gull. He flew away as i got within inches of the rock, and my hands found seaweed- perfect leverage as I hoisted myself up.
I'd only swam about 15 or 20 meters, so the walk back over the rocks was still well over a half mile. Now my shadow was my guide, and what had once been the left was now the right. Everything ached and my feet seemed to hurt three times more than they had on the way to the end. I saw a cat's tail rush under me, a sub level and maze of rocks all for the cats and insects to crawl around.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

like a fox

I have the option, when posting, to change both the (apparent) date and time of the post. Right now the time is truthfully filled in "11/25/07", and in another box next to it, "9:28 PM". However, I could, right now, edit it to show that the date of posting is "11/02/1990 12:31 AM"- around the time of my birth. Users browsing the blogspot equivilant to a myspace "about me" (I'm really new at this) would see that I'm 17 years old, and, having seen the posting date of my first blog, be astounded. "Egads! He's been blogging since birth!"

Today I thought, "Where is the woman. I want to suck her milk." I cried for a long time, a long time went by without milk, and then she came and held me and gave me the pink milkthing. I sucked milk until I fell asleep.

-11/14/90 6:33 PM.

Or I could tamper with the date of my blogs to present myself as a prophet, or psychic, or even just as sensitive to the dial of the life, in an erotic, spirtual way.

Horrible day. I've been shaking all over, frightened and paranoid. I asked Coach Ramirez if I could go to the nurse during a cross country workout, and threw up in the bushes on the way back to school.

-9/10/01 9:51 PM

Anway. There will be no deceptions of date and time to glorify myself on this blog- just batting the idea around. My name's Paul Murufas and I live in Long Beach, California. Welcome to my blog ;)