I know is isn’t fair
But once you’re aware
You can track back all you want
You can mourn for what’s gone
But you’re up either way
You better deal with your day

- John Popper, Once You Wake Up

I lost a friend last week. Or more correctly, I permanently lost the chance to reconnect. Many years ago I lost touch with Mike. My life went in a different direction from his. I moved into a new relationship, family life, and put aside my partying and riding. I also fell out of touch with most of our common friends. He hit some very hard times, and lost the will to keep going. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Probably it was both. But we’ll never know.

I am so far out of touch with old friends and family that no one even called me directly to tell me the news. Not saying that in anger, or in bitterness. Just acknowledging the state of things.

Mike and I met in a topless bar about 12 years ago. We spent the next four or five years riding, partying, and chasing dreams. Once four of us were riding together as a tight group, we decided the group needed a name – the Short Bus Crew, or the House of the Fallen when in Scadian settings. Basically a good bunch of guys. We rode for fun, not to cause trouble.  Same way we drank. Or at least the way we intended to drink. Sometimes things got out of hand – usually with Mike. He drank first, he drank last, and he often drank to excess. Definitely the case on his last night.

I’m not sure if the gathering of family and friends at a funeral parlor is properly called a funeral or memorial service. No speeches were made and no procession occurred to a cemetery or church. But whatever it is called, it’s a time for survivors to gather and reflect.

I saw people there I haven’t seen in years. Some of them at least eight or nine years. People I met at Pennsic and the old Bruce conventions back in 93 and 94. Family I haven’t spoken more than a few words to in a year. People I held very dear to my heart. People I loved. People who in some cases I’m not sure just how I feel about anymore. A couple I might like to know again. Not sure how. Not sure what that would mean.

I left early.

Lots rolling in my head. Heavy mind. Need to work it through. Haven’t been able to think properly in a long time. Clouded thoughts, conflicting priorities.

A while ago I saw the article about several German scientists confirming that the Milky Way galaxy is circling a super-massive black hole, like a great cosmic toilet bowl being flushed. BBC News, December 9 2008. I’ve been reading a lot of hard science fiction lately, and this article has tickled the edges of several stories in my mind.

The last time I tried writing fiction was about 12 or 13 years ago, and those efforts were all fantasy. I ran across several of them while unpacking this fall. I think I’ll try a scan and OCR to see if I can get them digital again, just to try and save them for digital posterity. The softcopies are long gone by now. It was all written on a blazing fast custom built 486-50mgz using a DOS version of Word Perfect, and saved on 3 1/2″ floppies that have dissapeared years ago. Ahh the good old days.

I saw this at a modern art museum in Chatanooga. Inspiring.

Fall in love or fall in hate
Get inspired or be depressed
Ace a test or flunk a class
Make babies or make art
Speak the truth or lie and cheat
Dance on tables or sit in the corner
Life is divine chaos. Embrace it
Forgive yourslef. Breathe.
And enjoy the ride.
- Solbeam

Some writers have a way of pushing raw emotion into words that burrow into your brain. Tough, gritty emotions that we’ve all felt at some time, but couldn’t express except by screaming. Or tensing every muscle and sinew with bottled pain and rage, desperately wishing for the courage to scream.

RageBoy is one of those writers. Sometimes I think he wanders around with fancy ideas, and is so far up the visionary chart he can’t tell his perception of reality from what he wants reality to be.

But when he writes from gut, it’s intense. Amazing. Breathtaking. Mindblowing.

And it’s truth.

Truth expressed in a way we can only envy. Beautiful. Powerful. Rich and vibrant and sensual and moving and crushing and real.

Can’t Sleep – Too Wet to Dream

The Devil You Know

I’m in awe – this is writing so raw, so visceral, so… real.

It’s been many years since RageBoy’s prose was this intense. I wouldn’t wish his pain on anyone, but the art that pours out when the muse hits this guy is something to behold.

I will do this.

Nothing in my life matters except this.

No moment in my life exists except this moment.

I am born in this moment, and if I fail, I will die in this moment.

- Raistlin Majere