Post, Winter 2012 - 2013 -

Here it is, October, giant pumpkins and changing leaves. Many memories of small town trick or treats, and the best Halloween party ever, set to the soundtrack of "Perry Mason". Slow moving zombies and aliens, Philadelphia, under the Rodin, The Gates of Hell and The Thinker. Learning to chant, during a snow blizzard on the Avenue of the Americas, just to remember what my name was, too much tripping, I asked "Can you tell me where I am?" My long-haired, goateed face of Che staring back at me from the windows, Halloween party with Marya's friends. I love October, November and December. Sipping tea, hot chocolate in my Bannton mug, Birkenstock socks, the ocean crashing 200ft below, the bluffs, the apartment on "I" Street in Encinitos, CA. Where Carole gave me that small beauty of Indian teapot for Christmas, Karen gave me a quality of life I would never have again. I miss "Snooty" like it was just yesterday.

Early California days, I didn't know "homelessness". I had never met a family of addicts, I knew great artists, painters, poets, musicians, that was why! For the art of it!! To me everything was histrionic theatre, still is. Will always be. Today is first musing, one day I will get to the heart. Jody, Ralph, Josie, Cadillac Jean, Papa Harold, Willie Grey, Kenny, Nana, David & Jim, Jim B, and Mike, Grunion & Jamie, so many folks, Linda, Christopher Maze, down & down I go, to the ground I go, sleeping in a satin comforter for 4 mths in the rocks at Moonlight Beach - good night you moonlight ladies, let's swim to the moon on our Moonlight Drive? I can't forget, Kay, and Larry, Winnie & George.

Me and the best sister a man ever could have, Rosie, 2 turkeys and feeding all the street people on Thanksgiving. We all sang "Way down below the ocean, where I wanna be, she may be". I miss my sister so much, sometimes even when she was there. But that was later, when the pain ran out of her eyes, every single day. I was heartless at times. How could I be? My hope, laughter & dreams, stretched far beyond our lives, but the sorrow man found me too, as the sun set that day, I was there on my "Rock" where I sat for days & days. My last L.S.D. experience ended in a deep sobbing sorrow that the passing of youth seemed to mark, there on my rock at the beach, I could not get above the sorrow. I never have. One time, the teacher told me "I can see you from a block away."

Your shine, your shine is distinctive, you emit light.

Michael, write to me, I'm trying to get you my address. Rosie, I miss, I am sorry, you are in my prayers and always "Blue eyes cryin' in the rain". I love you, I hope you can forgive me. Town, Troy - anyone else, my name is Randy Chaplin, I'm a dreamer, an artist, a poet, my nickname is "Dead Randy" because that's all I have coming to me. I deserve so little. I live in "Deadland" in prison, zombies, ghosts & dead people surround me. I love Patti Smith, D. Bowie, anything English, I rocked on the north side, on the west side and the east side, I hid out on the south side, the golden flakes, reflect the sun, I smash and prance into the ocean. I used to run, and run and run. I'm right here. Then I'm gone.

RA