Aaaand we're off!

The trick is to combine waking rational abilities with the infinite possibilites of your dreams. if you can do that you can do anything. you may call me a dreamer. sell your waking life for minimum wage, but you get your dreams for free.
Seems like everyones sleep walking through their waking dreams or wake walking through their sleeping dreams.
Let two so commence, rather than more, for even two persons in the proper agreement in accord to bring the proper results are not easy to find. The desires for such meetings must be spontaneous and any other motive will barr out the highest thought current for good.

16.5.11
Drifting out of the bay, away from a place I referred to as 'home' for 2.5 months, it's amazing how one can connect with a place in such little time. Each day seems to add months onto the understanding of a given society and network of individuals traveling on such a spectrum of wavelengths of varying speed, color, and direction. I've spent about six months total in Thailand alone, and even after "settling into" various nooks and crannies of the country, ubilding connections and establishing relationships with all walks, there still lies a plethora of stones of culture, sights, and ideas left unturned. Alas, I have not a regret, as my time in this land has been spent wisely, according to the self-guide aspirations and desires frolicking about between my ears.

Guided by the light of a waning gibbous moon, my teeth emerge through clenched cheeks, my eyes squint into crows-feet-embraced globes, and that feeling one gets in that moment when everything seems right washes over my salt-splashed skin. This is the perfect night for sailing, and I am here, living it.
The two-day stratch from Chalong, Phuket, Thailand to Pulau Weh, Sumatra, Indonesia is, to date, the most relaxed journey I've had, and I say that somewhat in advance, with a bit of confidence and faith, or maybe it's insight and prediction, but something in me knows. The pure, at-ease state of mind I've developed over the past few weeks filling my time with open-ended adventures with Curtis, cherishing thoughts aplenty with a few select females in the area, along with the numerous sailors from every corner of this tiny world of which we inhabit, and seriously educating myselfon the unfortunate effects that the few high powers who reign over our nations had had on such a beautiful race of earthly beings and the planet they call home.
17.5.11
I had first watch last night, from 7:45 P.M. until 1 A.M., and I've never been exceptionally good at staying up late, so finding ways to entertain myself was crucial. The first couple hours was no big deal. Mostly, I just stood around different parts of the deck peering off into the night and letting the whirlwind of thoughts take its course through my mind. I opened my notebook and devirginized the first page, started reading a new book, and rediscovered the power that reading has on putting me directly to sleep. Just as I was on the verge of severe shut-eye, I spotted something black in the water in my periferral. I dropped my book and made a dash toward the bow, instantly wide awake and full of awareness. The echoing squeaks reassured my that my tired eyes weren't deceitful. At first there were five, then seven, and soon nine giddy porpoises took the reins and led the way, leaping and maneuvering inches from the bow. I sat as far out in front as my buns would allow, giving the near sensation of swimming amongst the pod. Together we raced the boat, their smooth underwater swagger meeting my gentle rise and fallsuggested by the rolling swells beneath the hull. Outstretched were my arms, yearning for one tender touch of these beautifully moonlit mammals. There was definitely a bond between us, and I felt it, a connection in nature that one can only experience in person, yet a feeling we, as humans, need to feel regularly. Only then will we realize the significance of a full circle of life, rather than a selfish and self-destructing pyramid with man at the top.
 It was then that I fell asleep and thank God that Nick's a sailor.
 His instincts wake him up so he can see the storm, boat, whale, or
 Adjust the sails and score a knot and stumble back to bunk.
 I guess a greater power is for some reason not against me. As
 Real life things turned into lucid dreams and my night watch
 Faded into slumber, I dreamt of beauty in every color,
 As the ship glided peacefully over the calm waters.
The entire day, after waking to the calls of my porpoise friends, was a mind-blowing progression of the deep, clear blue water transforming into sea glass. By sunset this evening, I could practically count my lashes in the reflection passing below me. The most incredible setting that the sun has shown me was outrageously duplicated in the mirror beneath it, sending near-blinding rays of fluorescent pink and orange through the air particles and gently caressing the inner layers of my soul. Once again, I was rendered speechless, mesmorized by the splendor and sheer idea that such natural majesty could, in fact, exist. And why me? Why am I the one so fortunate enough to be blessed by this very moment, or rather series or seemingly everlasting moments?
I think if I were to give a brief statement in regards to where I find myself in this life for the time being, I'd be underexaggerating if I were to call it anything less than "tending to infinity," as the mathematical world puts it. Sure, there are certain things that could further enhance these moments I refer to as my life, but then again I'd be hesitant to bring them forth if so given the chance, simply because I cannot fathom a more satisfying state tan the one in which I currently fund myself. Life is good, to say the least.
 If you act upon each minute detail of an action that you literally   feel guided to carry out and you're mind and body are constantly alert  and aware of themselves, your surroundings and the symbiotic  relationships between the two, your perfect attendance will then yield  reward in every way, and you will then realize true living.

 We interpret and respond to the question "Where do you live?" inaccurately. The concept of living, as it is defined, refers to pure existence. Breathing, being, continuing. Many people take this idea too  seriously and allow the heavy-hearted definition that first-world society  has labeled it to infect their idea of what life really is, distorting  the true definiteion so much that living, to them, becomes impossible  without a secure set of items, generally speaking, a house, a car, a job,  and, in turn, some form or other of debt. This is absurd, since all one  needs is breath and a physical encasement for the spirit to inhabit. All  else can be discarded as unnecessary material because all it does is  create worry, fear, and stress, inhibiting the free and proper form of  living to be carried out.

P.S.These are nothing more than my rambling thoughts put to cyber-paper. Disregard any nonsense you may come across. ;)

We made it to Pulau Weh, Sumatra in Western Indonesia. Picked up a mooring behind a small island in a sort of paradise lagoon until we head out in the wee morning hours on the 5-hour sail to Banda Aceh. Turquoise waters as clear as my mental state, keep us afloat. Bliss.

19.5.11
My first attempt at soup-making was a success. Vegetable red curry served elegantly with brown jasmine rice was consumed with a healthy portion of good conversation, soft entrancing ontes seeping through the speakers, and a brilliant breeze swept across the cockpit and off into the darkness. I slept amazingly on deck last night and awakened to the early chirping of tropical birds singing their praises of encouragement to the bright dawning star. Nick chekced the oil, I dropped the mooring, and peacefully we glided out of the anchorage, a citrusy morning glow shimmering off the white foam of our wake. Three energetic dolphins escorted us out into deeper waters and once around the bend, our compass needle shifted from SW to SE.

20.5.11
Down the Western Sumatran coast we make our way. A cool offshore night wind off of Banda Aceh last night soothed us to sleep, thoroughly resting our bodies for an yet another easy glide through the passage toward Lak Sedu. Five-foot long barracudas and a couple huge parrotfish and red snapper dart to and fro hunting for a late morning snack amidst the heavy flow of the current in the pass.

Pulau Raya is the destination of the day, in a small channel between 2 islands, one of larger size and the other being deemed my new acquisition, seeing as I got out the shortboard, paddled the 500 meters to shore, investigated the hidden sandstone caves where the tide wore its path day after day, discovered new (to me) species of snakes and salamander-like critters, spiral shells the size of my face that seemed to have rained down all over the soft white sand from the heavens, found a large piece of driftwood to spin and joust about and carry with me on my Apocolypto-like run through worn palms, driftwood stalagmites, giant, smoothed rocks, and tropical vines that outlined the beach. I even treated myself to an exfoliating body scrub/roll in the sand, which by far beat the normal shower I would've had onboard with a limited amount of collected rainwater to rid my skin of the saltiness. The primitivity was exactly what the doctor ordered, in case you were worried my days were deprived of any sort of excitement and rush.

Nightfall of yet another successful day rains down upon our vessel. I managed to cook up a flavorful tofu-veg stew followed by the remnants of some moist brown rice turned into coconut sticky rice with ripe mango. Nick whipped up some fresh bread which I coated with a generous layer of nutella and then adorned its surface with a slab of softened banana. Oh yeh! The tasty treat was thoroughly enjoyed to the stunning sight of fluorescent blue chunks of phosphorous parading past the hull in the gentle, sweeping current. Above, as if the show were splendid enough, appeared an exact replica of an oil spill in the sky. I'd never seen anything like it, and I had to do a double-take to make sure my eyes weren't failing me. The colors, some of which were new to me, blended and swirled in a bleeding swirl, all while the Muslim man chants his final Friday prayers in the distance from the loudspeakers on the island to the east.

Being this close to the Equator, at about 5 degrees latitude brings us closer to the stars. Orion's belt seems to have gotten a little looser, and his shoulder (or is it his knee?) is glowing and flickering red, green, and white, and another star below him (or above him?) flashes purple, then red, green, and white. I hung the hammock between the  mast and forestay earlier today and it's just the place to do, well, just about anything. It evens beats the deck! Constant airflow on all sides, a gentle and occasional thrillingly high swinging from the wind and mild rocking of the boat conjours up yet another giggle from my diaphragm. It's stunning to see a 3-dimensional 360 degree view of the sky, as the sun makes its course from one side to the other and the thousands of clouds dance about overthe course of 12 hours and daylight allows me to witness an array of constant splendor.