Its sitting there, waiting to die.

So Sunday I struggled and struggled to not go on my typical Sunday Drive. I had been in a car, a shitty car, most of the day Saturday, and thought it quite freakish to get back into another car, even a nice one like mine, which I adore.

I relented, however. My Sunday Drive, for years now, has been my karmaic and spiritual focal point for my week. Like church, or temple, or whatever the hell you do for spirituality, that is what my Sunday Drive means to me.

I roam, and fate leads me to wherever. Usually with the utmost randomness, sometimes pre-planned, its a time for thinking, enjoying myself, and, if need be, NOT thinking. Just screwing it on with large amounts of marijuana smoke, and forgetting myself and where the hell I am for awhile. I can't even begin to describe how many places I've been, idly searching for the good and the beautiful, wasting a day, and not really knowing or caring where I've been.

My rationale was a restoration of karma, a spiritual focal point, and musing on a question that a perceptive friend had asked me. Its been a long time since someone made me think.

I drove up to Red Rocks, listening to some of the CD's I made, and went for a walk. Hiked over to the huge boulder that I slipped down in February sometime, where I almost fell off of the cliff to an uncertain fate. That is one goddam big boulder(big as a decent sized bus), and a hell of a slide. I definitely had momentum, because where I landed was way the hell away from where I started. Its very likely I could have been badly, badly injured, if not dead from that ordeal.

And then I hiked over to my thinking spot. It has been officially ordained now as my new thinking spot. This is where I will go by default on Sundays, the place where I will do the heavy pondering and brooding. It isn't an obvious place to reach, and I can stretch out on the rocks and relax, unconcerned about being disturbed.

Got no answers for my questions, but I felt content. So I went home, and eventually sat in the hot-tub for awhile. I felt so Roman. Got a flash reminiscient of Pompeii when I was there, with the tiled ancient Roman baths in the old palazzos and villias, thinking about women in white togas, sitting lazily by the bath, looking throught the skylight to the stars, wondering, as I do now, about what it all means. Sighing, and finding no answers slouching off to sleep.

It made me think of some of the spirituality I felt when in Pompeii. (some of those will be discussed at another time). Specifically, I thought of the one overwhelming flash I got when I walked into one palazzo. There was a bedroom, with an arched (and rebuilt) wooden roof. I saw a young Roman, early in the morning, slowly rousing herself from a deep sleep, hearing the rumbling in the distance that had been going on for so long now. And then the shock as tons and tons of ash burn and collapse the roof, through onto this young woman, burning her skin, filling her lungs with dust, choking off her cry before it can start, buried. Just an instant and its over.

At least she didn't suffer. The feeling and image was quite strong and replayed over and over in my head while I was in her palazzo. It horrified me, but was something in a long line of moments for me in Pompeii, rolling like mad. If you have the opportunity to go to Pompeii, go. If you have the opportunity to smoke good pot, take some X, and wander the city unattended, definitely do so. You won't regret it. I didn't.

And ultimately, this vision of memory disturbed me a little as I soaked in the hot-tub and basked in the light of the full moon. So I meditated, concentrating on my breathing. I vaguely hoped that before I started, that if I simply waited and was still, that all of the universe's mysteries would open up and reveal themselves to me. Instead, as I sunk into a meditative state, an intruding thought hit me about my destiny: wait and it will be revealed. Over and over the intruding thought, as if from nowhere. I construed it to mean that I would have a child with the grand destiny, while my fate was to be the progenator. Like Joeseph, father of Jesus.

That really bothered me, for a lot of reasons. With that rattling around in my head, I shuffled off to bed, and fell soundly asleep.