The Modesty Writers Guild

we are beyond survival. we have elevated ourselves from needs to wants, and with frivolous and rather embarrassing results. i do not know if any of you have traveled to a second or third world country but culture shock can really affect you, and sometimes worse upon your arrival home. when i was in india these past few weeks i had to face despair and utmost poverty, each day i had to walk by several people without homes, food, and no hope for either any time soon. upon arrival to the states i had the opportunity to stay a couple days in new york city before i came home to florida. i was hanging out with a friend in soho, new york city and on the way to meet up i saw the most gratuitous store i may have ever encountered in my life. it was an entire store that was dedicated to dog clothing. sweaters, trendy t-shirts, even upscale collars that were studded with random diamonds and jewels, kept in a glass case for display. normally i don't think it would have been a big deal to have s

he sat and shined a shoe, that’s all i ever saw him do. he must have been 10 and he sat right next to his dad, imitating his dad while he scrubbed then shined shoes right outside the location on sutter street we were staying at in kalcutta, india. they had a very meager set up, with only a wooden box the size of a shoebox to conduct business, and a sheet that had been torn through to sit on while tourists such as myself walked by. i always noticed how both father and son alike would stare at peoples feet as they walked by, maybe to evaluate clientele, or just the simple fact that shoes and shine were what they knew, and what they knew best. through a translator i began to build a relationship with both father and son, i would share my cliff bars with them in the morning, they thought they tasted funny which made me laugh (because i think most health bars taste like chalk as well), not like the normal "candy" that they probably had before from other tourists or maybe a special

the air was thick; you could almost taste it, and seemed to reflect the street and vendor lights that gathered from every direction. my hands were in fists but it wasn't someone i wanted to fight, it was just my body’s natural repose to the surroundings. as i walked down the narrow ally way to the middle of the red light district in kalcutta, india i realized that my heart wasn't broken at all, actually for the short time i walked down the pensive streets it felt as if i had no heart. it had frozen, or dissolved, or cease to beat in fear of allowing my feelings to overwhelm me and my body simply curl up in the fetal position and sob. these were not women of the night, these were mere girls with makeup, a few cloths slung on their back and a juvenile mind that clinched to a few dreams from their youth. youth, that is exactly what they had, or the little that what was left of it. some of them couldn't have been more than 15 years old, maybe. i choked, not because of just thei

so here it is the day before i leave to india and i realize that i only have about 1/4th of my "to-do" list done. but there right in the middle was a note to self reminding me to write one final modesty message before i leave to india.  its so funny, i mean i have only met a couple of you and yet i feel almost a, well as kant would say, a duty to you all. but its more than that, i like the fact that i have a chance to listen to you all (don't think i don't check the comments at least once a day!) and the chance to pour what life has taught me out somewhere other than just lyrics. i want to thank those of you who bought a lithograph because with it we were able to get some art supplies for the girls and surrounding community, as well as fund the trip for myself and others. there is a daunting task ahead of us, a trip that will not solve the problem of slavery in the world with just one trip; it is going to take hundreds if not thousands of trips to put a dent in the wo

tear tear tear off your skin whats there within. life on wooden swings when all was young, with summer tongues. i i i don't care to know whose been before. oh we could stand to run nev'r look back at trains or tracks and i'll kiss you in london love you in france sunsets in germany spain we could slowdance, somewhere outside, somewhere outside. wake wake wake from lover's kept, on slumbers bed your white like ghosts so innocent, so innocent. days in quiet'r homes when life was young, with summer tongues. is this what you saw, year ago and farther from homes. and i'll kiss you in london love you in france sunsets in germany spain we could slowdance, somewhere outside, somewhere outside. please please please just come with me to distant reach what holds you back from walks away and needs to stay. there there there somewhere out there are rooms to spare skin paled like before when life was young, with summer tongues. -1.5.07

i am so fascinated by love, this entity we all seek, and in some cases destroy. i think one of the greatest things about love is the aspect of vulnerability. we are opening ourselves up to someone that we have only encountered recently in the grand scheme of our life. up to this point we have known every thought, feeling, and action of ourselves; and then someone enters our little kingdom and demands to know and cohabitate in our thoughts, be apart our feelings, and create memories together.     carl jung once said "when there is love there is no power. when there is power there is no love." i find that to be my favorite quote by mr jung to date. what i think he is trying to say is that when love is present we are inclined to do what is best for that other person, our motives and self centered behavior is soon replaced by the life pursuits of another entity, another human being. we have no power because we want no power. we choose to remain helpless to our own internal motive

"the sense of wonder, that is our sixth sense, and it is the natural religious sense."                                -d.h. lawrence                for a couple minutes i could not find my brother, he was right behind us and i had no idea where he went. my friend nick and i called for his name but to no avail. as i began to trudge into the woods a little deeper nick became concerned since my brother paul didn't know his way in, or out, of the unknown, and to us, uncharted woods. after backtracking, and yelling into the woods we finally all met up in a valley that was descending into deeper woods and even deeper snow this last weekend in vail, colorado.       the clearing looked like a cross between an ansel adams photograph and stepping onto the movie set of the chronicles of narnia. everything surrounding us was painted in a a bleached white and all the trees simultaneously looked like dogwoods, each spaced just perfectly as if it were planned and designed around the thr