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jonesycash
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Name: Collin
Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: New York City
Birthday: 5/30/1980
Gender: Male
Interests: spirituality, frailty and redemption, courage and its pursuit, acting, music (Radiohead, Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, U2 are some favorites. In a classical vein: Rachmaninoff, Charles Ives, Thomas Hampson . . .), movies, Salinger, O'Connor, T. S. Eliot; trying to learn how to be on my own side, rather than being my own worst enemy; traveling, encouragement; Blue Bell Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream, with Mint Chocolate Chip a close second
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Hospitality
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  jonesycash
Member Since:
8/2/2004
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| Rollin' and Tumblin'I rolled and I tumbled, I cried the whole night long
I rolled and I tumbled, I cried the whole night long
Woke up this mornin', I must have bet my money wrong
I got troubles so hard, I can't stand the strain
I got troubles so hard, I can't stand the strain
Some young lazy slut has charmed away my brains
The landscape is glowin', gleamin' in the golden light of day
The landscape is glowin', gleamin' in the golden light of day
I ain't holdin' nothin' back now, I ain't standin' in anybody's way
Well, I did all I know just to keep you off my mind
Well, I did all I know just to keep you off my mind
Well, I paid and I paid and my sufferin' heart is always on the line
Well, I get up in the dawn and I go down and lay in the shade
I get up in the dawn and I go down and lay in the shade
I ain't nobody's house boy, I ain't nobody's well trained maid
I'm flat out spent, this woman been drivin' me to tears
I'm flat out spent, this woman she been drivin' me to tears
This woman so crazy, I swear I ain't gonna touch another one for years
Well, the warm weather's comin' and the buds are on the vine
The warm weather's comin', the buds are on the vine
Ain't nothing so depressing as trying to satisfy this woman of mine
I got up this mornin', saw the rising sun return
Well, I got up this mornin', see the rising sun return
Sooner or later, you too shall burn
The night's filled with shadows, the years are filled with early doom
The night is filled with shadows, the years are filled with early doom
I've been conjuring up all these long dead souls from their crumblin' tombs
Let's forgive each other darlin', let's go down to the greenwood glen
Let's forgive each other darlin', let's go down to the greenwood glen
Let's put our heads together now, let's put all old matters to an end
Well, I rolled and I tumbled and I cried the whole night long
Ah, I rolled and I tumbled and I cried the whole night long
I woke up this morning, I think I must be traveling wrong
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| How many letters do I know, and does it matter?
"There is a Jewish tale about a famous rabbi who prayed beautifully. His words reflected a lifetime of learning and a fervent heart; they were musical, and they held deep understanding, passion, and compassion. These were quality prayers. One high holy day in his temple, his prayers reached a real epiphany of depth and intensity. At that minute, an angel landed, and said, "By the way, you pray pretty well, but over in Such-and-such village there's a fellow named So-and-so who prays better than you do." The rabbi was somewhat flustered, but he was determined to meet and if possible learn from this So-and-so. At the first opportunity, he made the journey to Such-and-such village and asked for his man. He was directed to a house, and there he met an illiterate tradesman. The rabbi asked if there was another man named So-and-so in this village. The fellow, nervous and obsequious, said no. The rabbi turned to leave, thinking he had been misled, but at the door he turned and asked the man how he had prayed at the last holy day. The man said, 'I was surrounded by the prayers of the learned, the skilled, the artful, and felt so stupid, so incapable; I can't even read. All I know are the first ten letters of the alphabet. So I said to God, "All I have are these ten letters; take them and combine them however you want so that they smell good to you."'"
This story choked me up. It says a lot about how I view Christianity. And maybe even art.
To answer my own question in what may sound like a very simplistic way--no, I'm not sure that it matters how many I know. Just what I do with the ones I do know. That's almost too pat, too churchy, to cliche--but I think it has a grain of truth. | | |
| I hate to be like this, but, fyi: I've been updating MySpace a little more frequently than Xanga. I know; what a whore. I'm certainly not abandoning Xanga; we just, uh, kind of have an arrangement, if you know what I mean. Wink wink.
And, sorry that I don't keep up with people a little (a lot) better. Summer's been relaxing and hellish at the same time. Hellish is maybe a little hyperbolic, but not much. And school starts up again September 11th (what a day for a new beginning), so I'm about to have a lot of stuff to do. . . . .Man, can I turn a phrase.
myspace.com/jonesycash
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"Discipline is crucial, but we do not attain it by stiffening up. We attain it by sitting still and penetrating the emptiness within, making of that emptiness a friend rather than an adversary or bogeyman.
". . . .to create you have to disappear. It seems paradoxical, because when I procrastinate and block, I do so out of a feeling that I haven't got anything in me; I think that I am empty of content and am just spinning my wheels. But I am not empty, I am full of shit!
"This is not just a turn of phrase; it is the nub of the whole matter. When I look closely, shifting my angle of view, all my supposed emptiness in the blocked state is revealed as a gigantic, noisy mess of delusions, outmoded thought structures, desires, aversions, and confusions, half-digested memories, unfulfilled hopes and expectations. The whole mess of spiritual waste matter has got to be jettisoned. Only unconditional surrender leads to real emptiness, and from that place of emptiness I can be prolific and free."
Sounds fantastic, but how? | | |
| "The heart that hurts is a heart that beats" | | |
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