  I finished reading Howl by Allen Ginsberg again, and I am consistently amazed by the depth of beauty, and the intensity of that poem, despite its profanity and such. I think that the opening line to that poem has been burned into my mind forever... " I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked. " Allen Ginsberg has been the greatest (ok, you caught me - only) influence on my poetry. If you haven't read Howl you must, as in right now. You can find it on the internet for free. It's a little lengthy, but easily possible to read in one sitting, even if you contemplate every word like I do.
Speaking of poetry, I developed a plan in fifth period today. I will take every random poem I write, the two sides crumpled pieces of looseleaf with nonsense and hallucination scrawled all over them, and give them to Andrew R (my trusted beatnik compatriot) for safekeeping. When I die (hopefully with some renown for prose writing) I will ask him in my will to edit and publish those poems, giving the proceeds to charity. The main part of the plan I like is writing lots of random poetry and never seeing it again, but knowing it very well may come to some use. I wouldn't care very much if the whole lot of it burned either, so there's nothing lost. There is a lot of writing going on right now.
I have pulled out the manuscript of my novel, which will be called either "Place of Refuge", or "No Utopia" (I haven't decided, maybe the correct name is still out there somewhere) and I am editing it. There are parts I really like, and I smiled as I reread them, but there are also parts that made me want to be sick they were so amateurish. The first few chapters feel forced, like I was trying to fill space or something. There are long elaborate paragraphs, very poorly written, about hallways and turning on and off lightswitches. It's gross. There are also, however, delightful bits about the scenery and atmosphere, and some good bits about the characters, although they don't really flourish until later on.
My theatre arts group (made of my the aforementioned beatnik compatriot and two others) is writing a musical version of a fable, the one about the goose that layed the golden eggs. It's quite wonderful actually. In addition to this, I'm writing an MLA essay on Jack Kerouac's invention of "Spontaneous prose" and the style's influence on the beat generation, which is quite a lot of fun. There is a lot of writing going on right now, and I'm soaking it all in. Beautiful weather is beginning to surface, and I love it. Warm days and warm wind reaffirm my belief that when recognized for what it really is (beautiful emptiness) the world is perfect.
My meditation schedule has become quite rigorous, compared to the past. I meditate for 30-45 minutes every night, and keep a journal of how well my concentration and mindfulness was, and what hindered it. So far I've been having a lot of headaches, and a little bit of backpain, and way too much laziness and inability to concentrate, but I think already I am beginning to see an improvement. Certainly the mind is more receptive and controlled, and conducive to positive mind states after meditation. I am firmly convinced that a good meditative practice is the healthiest thing for anyone, because it inevitably leads to Dharma, which leads to realization. What I want though, is a teacher.
I've talked with a lot of Buddhists (even monks) online, and there is a consensus in everything I've read and heard that someone who is serious about following Dharma should not practice without a teacher for very long, because everyone needs help. Sure, the Buddha didn't have a teacher, but he was also a Bodhissatva with many lifetimes of perfection on his side. There are no teachers here in Moncton (I think, no theravada anyway) but when I go away to University I hope to find one). I am beginning to realize that while I am talking about Buddhism no one understands it, so maybe my next post will be a superbrief explanation of Buddhist beliefs and the terminology I use all the time (Buddha, Bodhissatva, Dharma, Dhyana, Tathagata, metta, Sattipattana, Karuna, Arhant, that kind of thing). Much metta(lovingkindness) to everyone, especially those who have leapt to the other side of the blogging river to read my site here, even after I have unwillingly departed from xanga. :D 
