December 3rd, 2016

During Spring and during Summer

Stay ever wide awake

For amidst the days, when days grow warmer

Much is Moored at stake…

Though inclined we are, to think of favor

As following, and Heaven sworn

Might Soon we meet, the chilling of November

And What in Winters born?

If Great Adversity should gaze upon Ye then

With piercing frozen eyes…

The time is nye to act as Men

If Again Ye wish to Rise!

Do not find, that chance was wasted

To mend torn or tattered sails

For chance like lighting, Strikes but Once

And you Must Prove Stronger than the Gails

The Fish and the Fry

When a fish swims to Sea,

He knows not where he wants to be…

So for a while he’ll splash and play

But deep inside, he knows he cannot stay

For something calls him, by his name…

“Come back home, to river same…

Swim all day and swim all night

And if Fate be kind…

A Hook you will not bite.

Swim up the rock and under bridge

Where the woods meet river, Below icy ridge

From here you sprang

And T’is here You’ll die,

Time And Time Again, you little Fry.”

Letters From Below: Pt 1

“I realize that by now, you have probably been so over exposed to my antics to ever take anything I say seriously, so I’ll pretense this letter with that.

As I’m preparing to go on another deployment, I’m taking some time to write a few letters to the people in my life who I value. Though this is not a love letter, I would fully expect you to blush while reading this!

Through all the constant roasting and picking on you, I may have never taken the time to have given you a straight forward compliment, so to make up for that I decided to make a list…

I’ll start by saying you have probably the Best hair ev…

Now, moving away to the less superficial realm…

Perhaps it has been my most recent exposure to a certain type of human personality and level of intellect, that forces me to comment on yours. So, I would say that the person in you -who I know Here– has never given me a reason to lose respect. It would seem…

I’ll finish by saying that: as far as I can tell, you should aspire to not let the World change you Too much, because anything less than who you are Now would be a Fall from…”

P.s. (not written with this letter but added some years later): “You Are Funny.”

On Failure

I’m not a writer. To date I have not been payed for any piece of writing that I have personally generated. But what I am is perhaps better than being a writer.

I’m a Happy Man. Which is pretty rare. Hard to be a Man these days. A Real Man. Not just a “Man’s Man…” or a “Domesticated Man…” Let alone, a Happy Man.

This one dude once said,

“A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and gets to bed at night, and in between he does what he wants to do.”

His name escapes me, it’s just out there Blowing in the Wind of my memory, forgotten about Like A Rolling Stone.

But while it is interesting who said This or That, who said What is not important if What said is Full O’ Truth, isn’t it?

So I Think on this interpretation of what it is to be a Man, or at least a Successful one. I’ve felt as if a Man should be successful. Not a Failure.

Now we are getting into the weeds aren’t we? If you remember this is not about what it is To Be a Man, this is suppose to be about Failure. And here we go.

As a Man (not a Ma’am) I feel as if Failure is the one thing that scares us more than anything else. Thus the opening About Men…

I’ve put myself into situations that were very dangerous, to the body. I was not that afraid, in fact I felt great, most of the time. There’s something to be said about a Dance With Death that maybe Half the population will not understand.

To Davy Jones’s Locker, I was not afraid. To Speak True Words to someone and have them Not Heard, the idea Was terrifying.

And so we avoid failure. To whatever End. The problems that arise because of this aversion to Failure -which is really just and aversion to feeling afraid- Good Lord!

So we never make ourselves uncomfortable with these aspects of our lives and thus we never Truly grow, Thus we are Dead before we Ever hit the Ground.

I will tell you He (or She or etc.) who Reads, welcome Failure into your life. I can now say that I have failed at so many things that I have become inoculated to the Fear it posits in the back of my Head. Now, I’m careful with what potential failures I choose to approach. I will generally believe that I can succeed at This or That but I now know that if I fail in the process, that it will be Swell. And you know what Reader, I’ve never felt better.

Ultimately, what I am Speaking to -On Failure- is that the only True Failure you can incur on Yourself, is the Failure to never Launch, for fear of missing the Mark. Just step Out Into the World and burn. Burn everything to the ground so to speak, Yourself included because…

[…]the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!

Jack Kerouac, On the Road

What The Devil…

I Once Saw the Devil.

I saw him from Afar.

I Quickly prayed for mercy

I wished upon a Star…

I asked for reasons Why…

To Hurt, To Waste, To Die?

I Cursed the wretched Legions

Proclaimed that I would Try…

But the Devil got the better,

As The Wheel Turned and Spun.

The gravel and the Webs,

Began to blot the Sun…

In This final horrid scene,

I thought to Breathe, while One could still.

I saw the Devil, was deep within.

It was Me Alone, Who made The whole world ill…

I asked for A Reason,

As to why I could not See.

This Time, L’Enfer…

Was Wholly made by Me?

From Out of The Grand Abyss

And in your pain, even -if you Choose- in your suffering, reflect and Feel honored.

Feel honored, more than the Rock, the Rain Drop, or the dandelion’s Parasol, that it is You who Feels whatever way.

It is You Alone.

You Alone and your Tender Soul That is Allowed to Feel at all.

From out of the Grand Abyss you Sprang and for a time, had

Eyes to look upon another,

Ears to hear the Thunder, a pair of

Nostrils to Take in the Scent of Spring, a

Palette to Taste Life, and

Hands that Turn the Page.

Lastly, That Old Heart of Yours, that beats both desperately and coincidentally, Mnemonically.

So Contemplate if you Must. But in your Contemplation, Remember this:

“You are so very Rare a thing HERE and there will never be Another in This Time and Place quite like you are right NOW.”

The True Color of a Nation

That Flag that you walk passed is perhaps worth a second glance, for it is not limited to the confines of the canvas that exhibit those colors so eloquently. We recognize three colors, -they have become our own- but the Ensign reflects a Spectrum of Light that far surpasses what is visible with the human eye.

It has been dyed with the Hopes, Dreams, Aspirations and yes, Blood of Generations willing to stand for great ideas, ideals and Truths.  Stationed on it’s staff through the sacrifice of a breed of human born with a remarkable reverence for Liberty, it has remained for a Time.

From Above she has inspired a great many things and aloft must she remain through these most Crucial of times, for Us.

Will we let it Be the Case that Our Sacrifices RIGHT Here and Now, in the Present, was an offering to the great Debts levied UpOn Us by those who came before, while simultaneously transmitting unto our Posterity an Example of why the cherishing of such a Thing is not only Necessary but beautiful?

Or

Will WE let it be the case that we are the Generations responsible for letting the Last Bastion Hope, -Humanities Best attempt so far of Capturing Raw Freedom- fade into the Pages of History, erased forever..?

“Look, for she waves to you here in the Warm air of June, Desperately and yet Gracefully.  She beckons you now -in Her great time of need- that you might protect All of her colors from Fading. Godspeed!”

-Victor M. Castrejon

(Originally Written while driving North on Hwy 99 in Elk Grove, CA, Finished while drinking a mimosa in Athens, GA)

On Play

When They were young They played together and that was that. That’s what made Them friends. Nothing more.

They grew up and moved away and as we know, “Nothing Gold can stay…”

Playing with their friends turned into other things. Working through the weekends and buying Brand New Toys.

Only, The Brand New Toys weren’t much fun to play with by themselves. They tried to make some New Friends and soon found out, their New friends liked playing with their New Toys. But it never seemed to feel like playing with each other. It seemed like they were playing against each other, it never seemed to be enough.

To have a Real Friend again, what would that Feel like now?

Maybe it would feel like laughing at the Simplest thing. Like holding hands and looking at clouds. Like the Best thing in the world. Like something you cannot order online.

“Maybe the Great Tragedy of Adulthood is that we spend our entire lives seeking to buy a feeling, we once had for free…”

Rivoir

Once more, beyond the bend.

On this Torrent’s puzzling Whinde.

Toward higher vantage, may you Ascend

And gaze upon the River’s Mind

Below the timber, it carves out stone.

It beckons with a trembling roar,

Ringing through the Rocky Valley,

To finally Land on Sanded Shore.

It’s call is Rushing, demanding Choice.

Go no further? Or venture still?

It asks this question of a Man.

It tests the Nature of His Will.

And Will You rise and persist?

Through the pull of Current, so few resist.

Won’t you Ford against the flow?

For the sake of going, where most Won’t go…