Last night I was talking to another person who lives under the same roof as I do, almost a friend. He said, "You see dude, one has to go through seven relationships to find the One".

I took note of the statistic. I collect random numbers like that so that I can use them in poems like this. Usually numbers of highways that I happen to be travelling then, for some roads do come to an end after that particular journey and some people will never want to see me again, so numbers help me to associate places, faces and times to nightmares when they visit unasked and unwelcomed. Then like a doctor, I can feel the pulse and note clinically, "Oh this is the I-75 nightmare, it has a bumpy ride for the road is full of ruts and cracks from freezing and thawing in alternate winters". It was some freezing and thawing for in the end it tore the Whole apart, into seperate continents.

But then I am digressing, we were talking about seven lives that must be sunk to make real music, well if that hypothesis is good. I have my own reasons to doubt it, mainly because this procession has nothing to do with if you loved or were loved. It has to do with deals that one has to make with life, with god and perhaps even with the devil.

But why am I saying this, this number is as good as anything to belive in and don't I want to desperately belive in something ? A random statistic is simple enough for me to belive in after beliving in such weighty statements as, "I love you" heard many times. So now I have decided to keep track on the number of times I must die before believing no longer abrubtly ends into disbelieving, into countries whose borders are suddenly sealed by machine guns, barbed wire, gaurds and dogs whose barks I can't hear!

2002:07:19 00:32 Atlanta

I am so cold tonight and I am trying hard to find the rythms embedded within me.