I'm the only one not wearing one of those striped cardboard thick cowboy button-ups. I vividly remember those from my days waiting in Kentucky truckstops for a jump on my Nissan.
early a.m. sitting curiously in a small diner in a small town in Missouri trying to absorb my surroundings. It's gorgeous in this state, especially after having spent last night in Kansas...which to its geographical state is not unpleasant, but it does by far remain the most difficult drive to keep your sanity fresh. I spent the night in my Jeep. There was a bitter chill in the air but nothing so harsh as the Colorado mountain air I just left.
I'm driving east. just going straight. eastbound. no turns. just east. that doesn't happen very often. But I have a nice lineup of peeps to visit on the way before I eventually head down to the Alabama coast.
The last entry in my journal states, "God is crazy. He's a madman. But I am completely calm under the hand of the Master."
I had planned to do some massive havoc reeking on the outdoors with a certain farm boy in Bama, like riding horses, a bit of climbing, kayaking, beach volleyball, and scaling the side of the USS Alabama battleship with him at night in my newest black leather ninja pajamas. But, I fear these crutches at my side in this booth with me now lend meaning to my propped up foot and the bag of ice on top. End of the season foolishness. Everyone has their own story. Without graphic detail to my foolishness I'll just say the rock face of my apartment wall resembled all too well that of the side of a mountain needing to be climbed. After many successful turns, I made it only to the 2nd balcony, and plop. In the words of my Uncle Evil when as kids we'd punch him in the family jewels not at all sympathetic to the consequences, "pain, agony, defeat." Just let me die. So needless to say, with all my insane attempts at cliff jumping, sports, snowboarding, riding on top of cars at increasing speeds, I've not until this point injured myself. So this trip on crutches, no pun intended, has been a riot. It is true that crutches serve as a conversation starter, a tool for milking affection, and also a source of defense. But with the latter, it i sof utmost importance to have an excellent sense of balance 1st. A couple of drunken ski patrolers, a few of my friends with absolutely no credentials, and Will's dad the doctor who assessed me via Will over the phone, all diagnosed me with only a 2nd degree ankle sprain. I'll be fine tomorrow. Though, that last part is just my foolish optimism. I'm off to complete another 8-10 hrs of relentless stare stealing roads. Louisville is my destination. I hope someone there has a shower. ...did I mention 17hrs ago I spilled coffee in my lap AND had gasoline spill all over my feet? Ah, a shower indeed.
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Monday, April 04, 2005
good times in the bad times
I was under the impression that sleeping was an option, but the way the force of my eyelids raped my freedom of choice I might have to recast my vote. In a way, I fell asleep yesterday while still moving. I boarded down Strawberry Park on my morning run, feeling a bit loopy over each bump. Trudging on in fervent reminder that this would be my only glorious escape for the day from my toasty lift shack, I hurled myself through each curve and launched over every roller. Ride fast, take chances I was told.
Somewhere down the mountain the bearings in my brain broke loose and sparks of imbalanced chemicals began to freely fly throughout the cage of my head. Like a narcoleptic, I must have uncontrollably lost consciousness and plumeted to the ground, because I awoke to a bodily position that insinuated I should still be moving. Except only now, I was laying on my side, ear full of snow, arms twisted behind my back...obviously not in attempt to break the fall, snowboard still strapped to my feet, plus an oxygen mask strapped to my face. And, notably, accompanied by a handful of cute ski patrolers taking my pulse. Now, if this were the view I could awake to everytime I come to, I'd trade in the embarassment of being tagged a 'random fainter' for the eye candy. But, whatever.
Somewhere down the mountain the bearings in my brain broke loose and sparks of imbalanced chemicals began to freely fly throughout the cage of my head. Like a narcoleptic, I must have uncontrollably lost consciousness and plumeted to the ground, because I awoke to a bodily position that insinuated I should still be moving. Except only now, I was laying on my side, ear full of snow, arms twisted behind my back...obviously not in attempt to break the fall, snowboard still strapped to my feet, plus an oxygen mask strapped to my face. And, notably, accompanied by a handful of cute ski patrolers taking my pulse. Now, if this were the view I could awake to everytime I come to, I'd trade in the embarassment of being tagged a 'random fainter' for the eye candy. But, whatever.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Skittish: Smokey Ramblings of the Tin Box Bunny
Something is always far away.
My feet dangled from the moving chair in anticipation. The full morning moon caught me in a staring contest. For a moment I wished it was you. A salty thing to taste rolled from my eye down my cheek to the corner of my lips. I'm convinced it was from the bitter wind chill, but undoubtedly missing you was the only thing on my mind. I looked around, sat back in my chair to get the bigger picture, as there are always 4-17 perspectives for every view, and I noticed how the moon seemed to perfectly nuzzle itself in the valley.
Some things are always far from me.
The tingling crackle of my fickleness sounds to shed this layer of indecision. You've quite ruined my world ya know, mushing my thoughts all mimbly bimbly of sorts. I've got one constant in my life and that is my wanting you. At a glance, all the world seems put together. But that's a lonely answer. We want to think just that for hope's sake. The unrevolutionary idea that we have no business even putting one foot in front of the next for fear of the soon and coming cliff is more realistic. We are either ridiculously numb creatures frolicking in our own disease of mistakes by forgetting past errors and continuing in naivete or we are more likely, pressing forward in a bravery even to which history cannot give ample credit.
The princess cannot even fall asleep on a mushy pea masked by 20 mattresses but I alone can fall asleep on a hard plastic 32 oz Nalgene bottle, and due to sheer exhaustion, manage to get in an 8hr snooze. And, if every once in awhile everyone doesn't wash their clothes in dish soap or see a monster across the room in broad daylight in public, then maybe my thinking I'm like the rest of humanity is far from the truth. But wait, I've never thought I was much like the rest of you.
Maybe some things aren't so far away.
Consider yourself a pioneer for new thought. New thinking for yourself, a new life on the horizon, a new path to be blazed. You're a pioneer for a new adventure as your soul seeks it fresh.
I once thought Molly's apartment was obnoxiously small. I now see it as spectacularly telling. We, you and I that is, could not run from each other...Except in circles...And I see that as a game...And also one in which I'd like to be caught. Sell your house to the maker. Give your heart to the creator. Leave your baggage at the door. Give your money to the poor. Play a song for your girl and lend me all your kisses.
There's a time to kayak and a time to sleep. There's a time to grow your own garden and a time to eat beef jerky all day. There's a time to smoke a Bali Mai clove and a time to swim 6 miles. There's a time to use a tent and a time to wake up to a curious moose. There's a time to snowboard until it's illegal and a time to roll naked down a snowy hill. There's a time to be clean and a time to drive back from the beach with salt and sand in every crevice of your body. There's a time to guard your heart and a time to be blatantly honest. There's a time to roll with the wind and a time for change. Something here must change.
Some things are so close to me. Maybe you are exactly where I need you.
My feet dangled from the moving chair in anticipation. The full morning moon caught me in a staring contest. For a moment I wished it was you. A salty thing to taste rolled from my eye down my cheek to the corner of my lips. I'm convinced it was from the bitter wind chill, but undoubtedly missing you was the only thing on my mind. I looked around, sat back in my chair to get the bigger picture, as there are always 4-17 perspectives for every view, and I noticed how the moon seemed to perfectly nuzzle itself in the valley.
Some things are always far from me.
The tingling crackle of my fickleness sounds to shed this layer of indecision. You've quite ruined my world ya know, mushing my thoughts all mimbly bimbly of sorts. I've got one constant in my life and that is my wanting you. At a glance, all the world seems put together. But that's a lonely answer. We want to think just that for hope's sake. The unrevolutionary idea that we have no business even putting one foot in front of the next for fear of the soon and coming cliff is more realistic. We are either ridiculously numb creatures frolicking in our own disease of mistakes by forgetting past errors and continuing in naivete or we are more likely, pressing forward in a bravery even to which history cannot give ample credit.
The princess cannot even fall asleep on a mushy pea masked by 20 mattresses but I alone can fall asleep on a hard plastic 32 oz Nalgene bottle, and due to sheer exhaustion, manage to get in an 8hr snooze. And, if every once in awhile everyone doesn't wash their clothes in dish soap or see a monster across the room in broad daylight in public, then maybe my thinking I'm like the rest of humanity is far from the truth. But wait, I've never thought I was much like the rest of you.
Maybe some things aren't so far away.
Consider yourself a pioneer for new thought. New thinking for yourself, a new life on the horizon, a new path to be blazed. You're a pioneer for a new adventure as your soul seeks it fresh.
I once thought Molly's apartment was obnoxiously small. I now see it as spectacularly telling. We, you and I that is, could not run from each other...Except in circles...And I see that as a game...And also one in which I'd like to be caught. Sell your house to the maker. Give your heart to the creator. Leave your baggage at the door. Give your money to the poor. Play a song for your girl and lend me all your kisses.
There's a time to kayak and a time to sleep. There's a time to grow your own garden and a time to eat beef jerky all day. There's a time to smoke a Bali Mai clove and a time to swim 6 miles. There's a time to use a tent and a time to wake up to a curious moose. There's a time to snowboard until it's illegal and a time to roll naked down a snowy hill. There's a time to be clean and a time to drive back from the beach with salt and sand in every crevice of your body. There's a time to guard your heart and a time to be blatantly honest. There's a time to roll with the wind and a time for change. Something here must change.
Some things are so close to me. Maybe you are exactly where I need you.
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