Guycornell’s Weblog

The semester is almost over and I am ready for the break. New problems will bloom with a change of pace, yet change becomes oxygen when caught up in life`s race. I`m ready to eat, I have earned the meal. I`ll shall become vagrant for the next month with glee. No face book, no false smiles,no e-mail.

I dont need the announcment of trend to be desireable.  My fan base is small and intimant, yet they`ll never push me aside for the lastest fad.  It begins with a love of self and action sistered by positive influences.  This journey never ends for there is the ever present pressure to be ecepted with in a community.  Today I am desireable tommorrow the struggle begins again.

I was created with a vision-some days that vision is not to clear, and still I push on following the example of my mother.  She is what is just, kind and beautiful about this world.  She is not the kind that lets one down.  She is the mother of tribe and I am blessed to know that piece of her.  Linda is her name and she is all that is worth while of this world.

The change of the seasons cleans the streets.  The change of the seasons allows us to warm our own flesh.  The change of the seasons is like the scab that has worn out its welcome.  The change of the seasons creates illumination for our eyes, for we pay closer attention when a change is concurring.  The change of the seasons is my favorite time, because I pay more mind to the things which remain.

There isn`t a place I can run to, where I can out run my shadow.

The girls name is Helenia.  We met on the north side of Las Vegas.  She was eating small squares in small porportion from an even smaller bag of cheeze-its.  “I wanted barbaque Fritios” she exclaims, while leaning half boxed in between the phone booth and the rusty red brick of P+C`s exterior.  Helenia tilted the remainder of the bags content toward the sky, allowing an avalanche of crumbs to christen her chin and black slip knot T-shirt.  Her vioce sounded as if someone was squeezing her throat as she spoke.  Helenia asked me why my vioce is so raspy.  We stood as two components in a microphone.  Helenia asked me if I was a native of Vegas.  Her inquiry was most likely due to the fact that a large percentage of las Vegas`s population has migrated from some other origin.  I replied “born in Syracuse” but people say I must have gypsy blood on account of my inability to stay in one place for to long.  To which she replied “My family comes from Mexico City”  Then with eyes finally removed from the empty bag of Cheeze-its she asks”have you ever been”?  To which I replied “No” do they have barbaque Fritios in Mexico City?  I`m not quite sure Helenia replied through laughter “I`ve never been ether.  But they`ve got`em at the Seven Eleven down the street.  I`m not a big fan of Fritios, plane or barbaque, but I don`t suppose I should denie you the pleasure on such a mundane afternoon.  “What`s your name” Helenia asked me with a half cocked grin that becomes deal sealing.  “I`m just Guy” I answered and I think I`ve worked worked up a hunger for Cheeze-its.

Days like today make it hard to stay focused on the momment.  Still, it rained for hours so all is not lost!

Another day of seeking out life`s purpose for me.  I`ve looked to the mirror and I`m satisfied with what I see inside of myself.  This day can only become what I allow it to be.  I`ll reach toward the sky seeking the endless blessings, knowing that my insides will soon match what is external!

I wish it would rain,

Some complain about the lack of mobility.

I need the rain to cleanse this slate, bringing back slight lucidity,

Just a few drips to refresh these lips,

My soul is chaped from this humidity in the form of human,

Nothing more than a dowse, so I can crack this frown

I`ll leave behind some shabby clothes,traded in for a lack of conformity