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STRANGE CASE OF MOONLIGHT...

...the Hup Cap, the Parking Lot, the Junkyard...can't remember the name of the club that I was just at...but all the above names sound good enough for bars and it's the second weekend I spent under the red lights of the same bar that I can't even remember the damn stinkin' name of...hell, I don't even like the club scene, that's why I'm at least glad that they serve alcoholic beverages, something to take a bite off the edge of all the anxiety that comes with cold-eyed stares of men trying to protect their "territory" and maybe, that's how the west was won...

...nah, to me, the club scene means something entirely different...it's not about sacking up the women, trying to play a macho playboy or looking for a date...those are all terms that I've grown oblivious to these days...but, for me it's the total experience of life that inspires me to write about something different...there is alot going on around us these days, but very little words to capture the essence of the moment.

...and as I tend to keep tracing back to the mad words expelled by Kerouac, Burroughs, and Bukowski, I have recently discovered that there's truly no modern voice to capture the complex times under the throne of Bush...jobs lost, wages decline, more corporate mergers and less jobs with more wars.

...and, so, I can't remember the name of this club that I've vistited for the last couple of weekends, but the sound of the bands that play is rather loose and the crowd there is just amazingly beautiful and I just want to hug and kiss every face and body around me, male or female. For once, I just want to embrace the cosmic energy that invades this purple-crazed soul of mine and go on to write my book.