Sunday, July 16, 2006

DYSLEXIC DOG


DYSLEXIC DOG
Originally uploaded by scottcameronstevens.
DYSLEXIC GOD

Did you hear the one about the dyslexic insomniac?
He lay awake all night wondering if there really was a Dog.


I’ve always wondered if there really was a Dog, Dum and Mad would sit by my bed at night and tell stories of this Dog,
That he knew my voice, would come when I call, was my best friend and would protect me.

I found a book all about my dog
It seems he managed to get a lot of Jewish people to follow him around a desert for 40-years.
I wonder where he was going?

Anyway!
I can’t seem to find him , it seems like a lot of people are looking for him, more the better I suppose! ???
I’ve tried every kind of whistle but still no joy,
I’m thinking he might be at the pound because I just read in his Dog manual that he likes to hang out with the lost and jailed losers.
I’m not sure why everyone seems to be looking for him in those big buildings with all that singing and Yelling, but I hope I find him first because I went there and it seems they love him so much they’ve been raising money to build him a Big new kennel,
Maybe he’s different now than I knew him as a child, I dunno.....?

Anyway
I’m so angry with him for letting those yellers waste their money looking for him.
When I get hold of him I’m going to keep him close and never let him go.
“Oh my dog”! Where are you?

Friday, July 14, 2006

THE LITTLE RED PACK


little red pack
Originally uploaded by scottcameronstevens.
The little red pack.

When I was small I was given a little red pack, it seemed so big then.
The pack wasn’t made of material and cord but of words and gifts of love and encouragement, of great things I had inside me .
I grabbed at that pack and tried to put it on my shoulders and carry it around for all to see, but it was too big so I would hold a strap and drag it around behind me.
It was so bright red then it seemed its color could never fade and so big it could never hold all my dreams.
As I grew I would find all sorts of treasure, gems of stone, driftwood and sea glass from hidden coves with colors red and blues, greens and yellows,
These weren’t made of washed up branches , broken rock or shattered glass smoothed by oceans, but of Friendships and memories, like the rise of a body in a kiss.
Carefully I would put them one by one inside my pack now on my shoulders.
As the years have drifted by
The bright color has starting to fade from the sun and small rips appeare from holes where as a child Ide dragged it.
The seams were now pulling apart from places Ide tried to patch it, Not with nylon or waxed thread but with tears and sadness.

At times on my journey Ide sit and rest awhile, Ide carefully lay out my pieces in front of me
Some of them now starting to fade from the glisten they once had or the memory they held.
Some people would walk by and just look but not see, others would take interest in some of the small shiny pieces and then walk away, others would walk forward to see the special ones I held out to them, looking me in the eye they would curl my hand into a fist crushing them to dust as tears would washed away the broken pieces between the cracks where I lay.


Again I would slowly put back in what I had left, With an old cloth Ide try to shine the faded pieces before Ide lay them carefully inside.
, Older now the pack still seemed heavy but no longer with what I once saw as gems and colored sea glass but of rocks and broken discarded bottles. The seams now too thin to re-sew Ide again throw it over one shoulder.
Despite the contents or faded color and torn seams, this pack was given with love, so much love, it’s the same pack I was given at birth and weve journeyed so far.
At times it’s been full of treasures and has held through pouring rains and long dark winters in dusty attics.
Now When I look over my shoulder all I can see is the path Ive trodden, but I know this little red pack is there and holds all that I can’t leave BEHIND!

Thursday, July 13, 2006

SEROTONIN..


SEROTONIN..
Originally uploaded by scottcameronstevens.

@#$! @# …Serotonin
Angry!
Yeah damn neuron transmitters, serotonin Levels are down again!”
Where does that stuff go? “What’! It gets used up?
“Did I use it”?
Yeah! When”? Ohhhh... that day. Yeah I suppose that was a good day.

Ok check {to do} list on fridge
Wednesday, (ok Im gonna do this one thing at a time}

1.Find a way to make serotonin for public use with instant effects.
2. Make user friendly. {Intervenes, smoke, oral.snortable}
3. Set up Marketing plan and cut out the middleman {doctor}
4 Send e-mail of plan to all friends for customers
5 Make sure I keep enough supply for self
6 TAKE A BIG HIT!!
7 {Careful of Fed’s} delete all e -mail contacts. NEVER TELL FRIENDS!!
8 NEVER USE YOUR OWN SUPPPLY

SHIT…

WHATS ON THURSDAYS LIST????…

moment by moment


IMG_3927.JPG
Originally uploaded by scottcameronstevens.
Last moments
There will always be a last day you walk down a familiar street,
There will always be a last goodbye to someone you’ve loved,
Or a last wave you surf to the shore on a beach that knows you or
The last three steps you walk down from a place called a home where your memories are like a stormy ocean..
, For a last time you will close that familiar door behind you and again notice the tree you planted shimmer in the fading light .
You will not watch your steps as the track you walk will be known to you.
There will be a last day when you drink In the colors of the world where you stand and smell the air you breathe
.A last holler to a friend on a street as you ride by as the sun rises or sets on you back
A last few words to people who bring life to life for you

All of life will be points of last moments, take a moment, breath in
A smile, wipe away a tear and remember life is only a moment this moment .