Something Quiet

I was talking with Matthew last night in his car while I should have been sleeping. I should always be sleeping, by the way. Even now. We talk about everything. I'm thrilled I have a friend this happens with. I'm excellent at staying on topic. Maybe a new paragraph would help?

We talked a bit about one of our genius friends that we both highly respect. Like, he hasn't been to university but can aid university students with their high end course material. Genius. And modest too. You would never catch him saying this. Unless he was joking. But he doesn't have to. But even with all that, he doesn't have those dumb papers that say you spent a million dollars on schooling to get there. And those papers are crazy useful, I would think. And he may not get them. Tests are kind of scary. I hope he braves it though.

We talked about crowds a bit. We had experienced one recently. He didn't like them much, but I really did. They are fantastic. Every time I see them I am reminded of how much I miss them. I barely even know some of them. They just seem stuck in something dead. In something that doesn't go anywhere. Which is fine. I just don't want to be stuck anymore. I don't want to be dead, breathing. It would be sweet to take them somewhere alive. With life. Somewhere meaningful.

I thought about these as we spoke. About how dearly I love these guys. How I wish I could help. How can I? Do they need help? Could I, even if I knew?

Hi from Arizona.

I went on a pretty sweet trip. Michael and I drove up to Salmon arm. Or Enderby. Or Grinrod. Not entirely sure, but that area. We found Arizona on the way. We saw a tumbleweed. We felt a bit like cowboys. We got there and made cookies and fit. It was pretty sweet. We went bowling, saw the wharf, which is almost exactly like the pier, but for a lake, and some of the lake was frozen. The whole place was beautiful. We left too soon.

We drove to Kelowna and found a thrift store beside a music store, and then we went to Westbank and found a music store beside a thift store. I found a sweet scarf. And some goblets. And it was really sunny. Lovely. We went to a coffee shop and met Lauren there, and some of her friends. Michael met an old friend again. It was unexpected and quite triumphant, but I'm sure he would rather tell you.

Then we blitzed it down to Abbotsford, only getting sort of lost once. Maybe twice. Mike made us some pasta. It was definitely something. We had a brunchy kind of thing with Kerstyn. Walked some trail that wasn't too exciting. There was much stick and pinecone tossing. Mike showed us something he was building with another guy. It looks pretty sweet. I'm at that college in September, probably.

We got on the ferry. Work schedualed me for five, even though I asked for that day off many times. I was on the five o clock ferry. It did not end the trip off nicely. I was enraged. But ferry rides are pretty long. I calmed down. I was very tired.

I asked Michael what life was about. He started talking about something. He asked what I meant. I didn't know. I don't know. I mumbled something about the stars. He didn't hear. I don't know. We walked up to the top of the ferry and stared at the island specaled waters. It was quiet. Quite. So, something about the stars? The stars seem to say that life isn't what it is. The stars were beautiful every night. The sky blacker, the stars brighter. Mountains everywhere. Covered in snow. Michael talked about how we are fallen and the stars are just far enough away that they didn't get tainted by our mistake. How they know what they are supposed to be. They are what they are supposed to be. And how we aren't. What are we supposed to be? It was really lovely.

I am not okay with where I am now anymore. And not even sure I want to go where I am going. But it is somewhere, and I will not be stagnant.

Ponds

I shouldn't do this. But, why not? It proves my point, of sort.

I've decided a couple things that apply to everyone. That we are all absurd, and until we understand this, we are all jerks. It's kind of like sheep.

At any job I work, I am forced into contact with humans. Or they are forced into contact with me. People who would not dream of talking to me. Mothers, mechanics, seniors, forty year old men, children. Pretty much anyone. Everyone. There's one guy, he is friendly enough, but kind of weird. He comes often. In my uniform he will talk to me about anything. Everything. But on the street, he will cross the road to avoid walking by me. These strange people are subjected to me, whoever I am. If I'm a loud philippino lady or a girl who doesn't smile or a very strange lady. It doesn't matter. They must endure me. And I them. And through all this, I must say that people are tres bizarre.

It's scary how individualistic we are. It's scary that helping people who need help is out of the ordinary. That strangers are people to be afraid of, even though they are just like you. Mostly.

If this didn't connect, the first sentence is true.

Where the Water Meets the Sky

I'm reading a book about...well, I'm not entirely sure. I'm halfway through. It seems to be about classy society, but if I were a bit more attentive, I might notice something more. I'm starting to notice that life is pretty crazy. like high class. just...  I don't expect to make sense.

There are two cats. We will call one diabetes. The other we can call marble. Diabetes is why I am here. Marble is scared of people. Diabetes is pretty friendly, and lazy like all cats are. Diabetes takes a bit more effort to earn her love, but it is definitely worth it. Plus, less gross things appear for me to clean up. But, once she loves you, she demands your love. It's a bit consuming. It's kind of cool/creepy coming home to the glowing eyes of expectant cats though.

Stacy and I have been hanging out more. Stacy is my bass. She is pretty heavy, but she is beautiful, and so worth it. I told my friend I had to put her on a diet. He agreed. I told another friend. "Werner, I don't know how to tell you this... but Stacy wouldn't be helped by a diet. She wouldn't loss any weight if you fed her. She doesn't eat food. I hope you haven't been trying to feed her. She isn't a real person." It made me chuckle. Chortle. Laugh out loud.

I have two jobs now. Three if you include my cat companions, and four if you include my youth leadership role. I don't see a lot of friends anymore. Which is okay. I read books I don't understand about high society while listening to blindside and drinking coke. It almost makes hanging out with people I know a little more entertaining. Like I forget what is acceptable. But not. I can't explain it nicely. I become a little bit more fun in my mind. I don't know about anyone else. Sometimes, I'm sure I wouldn't think very highly of me if I weren't me, but people don't close doors on my face so I can't be that bad. In fact, someone even invited me to something! It seems to be one of the rarer things that happen to me, so although I was hesitant, and supposed to be completing some duty somewhere else, I accepted. My head still hurts.

The more intimate I become with Stacy, the more I wonder if that's a little bit how it works with God. I can know of scales and triads and relative minors, but what good is that without the intimacy? the practice? Head knowledge doesn't help your fingers much. I've never been able to do that dumb vulcan sign thing with my hand, and it was frustrating, but unimportant, so I dind't care. It seems more crucial now, if only a little bit. Elijah said that if you didn't find reading the bible exciting, if it wasn't something you wanted to do, you need a relationship with Jesus. Or something along those lines. I'm terrible at verbatim. It's cool and sad that Jesus is in a book. I'm told he is real too, and believe it, but the bible is where you find him. Books seem more like where you get the information. The head knowledge. Which is fantastic. But theory doesn't make a good musician. My grade 6 band teacher said that it was all about practice. That perfect practice makes perfect. Other stuff like that. By the way, music is not homework ever. Bandteachers, note that. Practicing the bible is an interesting thought. not new. Still interesting. 

That's Enough