Calwell: The First Night

I want to burn this bed.

I don’t know when I woke but I lay naked and fully aware of my state. She lies in the bed next to me, her body now too hot to touch. So I remove myself from sheets and instead allow the pale blue to cover me. The light seems to breath more life into my restless brain. This is not how I thought it would be. A spark once bright now without trace; shunned by the eyes of the happy couple that lines her walls. That couple that has only left her lips in peripheries, the same way it’s occupied my thoughts, now stares over me like death. Pale eyes so hot they’re cold.

I want to burn this bed. I want to burn this apartment. I want to expose these newborn memories to an unrelenting army of drugs so that they too may wither like the spark that preceded this union.

Good Drinkin'

Since I haven't started working yet this summer I have had a lot of free time on my hands. With this free time, I have decided to get back in shape (also try to gain some weight), and fuck around one last summer in ct with friends. I have missed the california grass so the booze has had to step up even though i havent felt the "lets get really fucked up" spirit in a long time. Just to recap some of the events: I smoked half a cigarette (mistake but felt great), we fit eight grown men in a five door bmw, we danced to some radio bullshit at a bar only to be kicked out at 12:45, got high fives from everyone leaving the bar (even girls), and have hooked up with 0 girls but have seen a fair share of dicks. 

Anyways, my cousin from Argentina came up to the US with her boyfriend and they stayed with us this last weekend. It's been raining a lot back east but we still got one full day on Saturday to drive down to Newport and a vineyard along the way. We took the tour at the vineyard to see how the wine was made and along the way I came up with a short story idea about wine monster killers which I will try to post later on this week. Then we walked around Newport which was magnificent, especially the cliff walk that we did, and wish I could have been there with you guys passing around a joint. It was to look out to the sea and also watch the water crash against the rocks especially cause jesse had just posted his blog.

Finally we got back home at like 9 and went over to my sister's boyfriend's place for some delicious pizza. We played some tunes, chatted over some good food and then came time for drinks. Ohh as I have told some of you, my cousin's boyfriend is an amazing bartender who a couple months ago placed 3rd in an international bartending competition. He specializes in making his own drinks (so he is not a bartender that does tricks or anything) so he took the fruit, limes, juice and a variety of alcohol (rum, whiskey, vodka, a couple of other shit) to make us all drinks. He decided to improvise and make whatever came to his head and it was outfuckingstanding. He made like 7 different drinks and we all passed them around and shared them. there was a really good one with lime, mint, whiskey, and sugar that was poppin hard.  I dont know, I have never enjoyed drinking an alcoholic beverage as much as I did that night cause it wasn't about getting drunk or covering up the taste of alcohol so you dont throw up from it, it was about making all the different flavors mix to create a great, enjoyable drink that happened to use alcohol to enhance the experience.

Whatever that's just a little bit of what I've been up to lately and Im excited to start working at the rope's course later on this week!!

I'm not really sure where this blog is going but I felt I had to post cause I hadn't in a while. Also, I had to give a shout out to jesse and the awesome room for their amazing work lately! Keep it up guys! miss you bros, ill be out there soon!

I Also Took A Trip Part E: Tea is Not Life

Very early in the trip I was talking about being frustrated with all the flem inside me from my cold/allergies, and so Brandon suggested that he could make tea.  I was like no, I don't want you to have to take on a responsibility on my behalf.  But it was too late, and he was like no, this is my mission, I will make this tea.  So he goes over to the kitchen area to start the tea.

For the next half hour, or maybe hour (had absolutely nothing even remotely close to a perception of time during the trip) the conversation would move from subject to subject, and in between there would always be moments of asking about the tea.  Was Brandon making it?  Was it ready?  And it was just going on in the background, always an undercurrent, the fact that this tea was being made.  Brandon always explained that he was making it, and it would be a little while longer.  But eventually it got to the point where we had been waiting so long for this tea that it had just become this abstract idea, that we were just waiting for this tea.  And it almost seemed like we were waiting for the tea to be done before we could progress further, like once this tea is done then we'll move to the next chapter.  But why?  The tea had become like a religion, like Christianity where everyone is waiting for Jesus to come back, waiting to be taken to heaven.  And I sort of felt like what I imagine a Christian becoming an Atheist would feel like.  The tea does not hold us to it, we can forget the tea and live life freely.  Sure tea would be nice, but you can live fully without it!  Awaken from beneath the worry of the tea.  Tea is not life.  And so "Tea is not life" became one of the night's themes.

There were some other good themes, including "you have to go to the bathroom to go to the bathroom." My favorite quote of the night came after I did some goofy joke to Mary.  I heard a smacking sound, then she said "I facepalmed so hard that it hurt."

Calwell

 I went to an apartment near Calwell Pond to know what it was like to live in the past. And by exploring deeply and honestly reveal the state of myself , even of my future. The spark that ignited this journey: the meeting of two people who exist in both the world of past and present, my ex and myself. Three years of desert separated us and yet a flood, appearing from neither side, came down to wash over all things. So, to Calwell I go to look for the source of the torrent, perhaps the source of all things born from what we call the heart. Answers cycle through my thoughts but in truth they are as infinite as rays that can be drawn from a single point or more appropriately back to it. But as I wait for this prologue to close I can’t help but harp on what answers might appear. Where did this wave of emotions come from? A past of shared experiences, the familiarity of intimacy, unfinished business, the excitement of doing something socially wrong, a biological need, a longing for the past. But I do not wish to be who I was those years ago nor do I wish to see her as she was then. No, rather I’m excited by the possibilities of who we are now. We are two adults new to the world looking for all the answers but instead being presented another question; the question though so direly requiring an answer. So I put aside my other queries of life for five days. Five days to find out the source of this emotional state. And to do so shake the very grounds where this newly formed oceans rests. To let the waves churn and crest above us, swallowing and spinning us naked, intertwined in weightless chaos. And in that messy, suspended state catch a glimpse of truth to pull us out or crack the very bottom and drain into the abyss.

In this moment it is the churning of oceans that truly draws me.

(PS: Thoreau is amazing)

Just scared the shit out of some lady

So it's 1:52am on the west coast and I just got home from a movie.  They're doing construction on my street tomorrow so I had to park a couple blocks away.  So I enjoyed a pleasant night stroll, and as I reach my apartment building I see a lady out front, letting her dog pee.  I realize that the timing of her bringing the dog inside is going to align pretty much exactly with me reaching the door.  Obviously she's gonna be creeped out if I try to get into the building with her, unless she knows that I live here, and since we're both humans, and our species has evolved as such that concepts can be expressed and understood through spoken language,  I say to her "Hi, I live here" in as comforting and apologetic a tone as I can muster.  She responds by giving me a quick look, then hurrying her dog up the steps, rushing the door open (by this point I've accepted that I lost this battle and I'm just letting her go in by herself), then closing it behind her and running through the lobby.  Once she's out of the lobby I come in, and hear her running down the hall and slamming her door.  I wait until I hear the second and third locks click into place before I exit the lobby and take the elevator to my room.

If I was black I'd hear sirens outside by now.

Also, did I do anything wrong here?  Is the correct choice for me to keep walking down the street until she goes inside, then circle back to come in by myself?  That's dumb.  Fuck people.

The Haitian Sensation Part 3: Rain

 Welcome to Haiti.

The airport is small and unkept. The walk from the plane to customs is lined with broken windows. As we enter the baggage claim area we’re swarmed by men in red polo shirts. I’m still unsure to this day, who these men work for or why they are allowed past customs every day but here they are. They grab at our bags, gesturing that everything is okay and try to carry them for us. It’s quickly obvious that they want to carry our stuff so that we will pay them. We tell them we’re not interested a few times and they leave us alone as we enter customs. The customs agent is very curious about our bag full of shoes. He seems to believe we are bringing in merchandise to sell but the fact that they are kids shoes convinces him that they are for charity.

We exit the airport and enter what I like to call total chaos. Torrential rain adds to the insanity of the scene. The swarm of red shirts inside the baggage claim is nothing compared to outside. Right as we exit people are grabbing at our bags and pushing our cart, trying to help us so that we can pay them. They literally rip the bags out of my hand and act as though they are just being friendly as I’m fighting them for my equipment. We spot one of our Haitian workers named Lucho. Lauren runs over and gives him a big hug. He soon realized I’m having trouble with locals comes over and tells off the guy with my stuff. I get my bag back and we run, soaking wet to a red pickup truck. Piled in with all our bags on top of us in the tiny cab Toyota pickup cab. Taking our first deep breath, we drive away from the airport and into Port Au Prince. I get my first look at Haiti.

The streets are busy with people. Fruit and snack stands line every other block. For the first time in real life I see people carrying baskets on their heads. Like huge baskets full of mangos and shit! Lauren is telling me how much things have changed since she’s been there. She tells me about a tent camp that used to be right outside the airport and all the rubble that lines the sidewalks and the dust on the streets that clouded up the air. I guess she was right, I didn’t see any real signs of destruction. The earthquake was a while ago so most of the busy public spaces were cleaned. The air was still cloudy from dust and black car exhaust but I’m told it had been a lot worse, sort of the way people tell me the LA smog used to be browner.

Then I saw my favorite cultural part of Haiti, the taptaps           ! Taptaps are converted trucks that are turned into people carriers, like shared taxis. Take a flat bed with plastic cover, raise it a few feet, add benches and you’ve got a taptap. But in Haiti they don’t stop there. They decorate their taptaps to an insane degree. They carve out metal sheets and add intricate designs that look Indian inspired. They paint them bright pastels and add personal themes like soccer or jesus or batman. It’s incredible!

Also on this drive, I learned that Haitians drive kinda like me, if I knew I wasn’t ever going to get pulled over. They are ultra aggressive. They split lanes, pass on any side and even use the sidewalks or other side of the road at their leisure. The horn and lights are used to communicate constantly. All the cars are dented and beat up from the craziness of the driving but overall it seems to be in good fun.

It’s hard to formulate first impressions about a country. I think when you talk about a place you’re really describing what that place means to you. Our crappy Westland apartment is remembered as an amazingly freeing and exciting place because of who I was and what we did there. For me this first experience with Haiti had none to do with the horrors I feared on my descent. It was about the wonder of seeing people and things that simply look different. Baskets on head! Super aggressive pickup trucks! Taptaps! It’s the first glimpse into a way of life I’ve yet to see and wait to dive into.

Texas-Time follow-up