Sunday, October 31, 2004 -- 2:04 PM
Which means I've been blogging (personally) for a little over a year. Cool.
-- 1:56 PM
DID YOU KNOW...
It was one year ago today that I was in a car accident with a vampire.
...NOW YOU KNOW
-- 8:36 AM
Its possible that I'm going back to Washington in a couple of weeks. Hip hip!
Airport Musings
A Fictional Memoir
David Hughes sat in the quiet Seatac airport, at the waiting area designated for foreign travellers. His flight was leaving in about half an hour, and he already missed the warmth and life of the Washington air and sun. The thin, dry climate of Alberta would welcome him back with icy indifference, tauntingly, with a subtle sneer.
Now that she was gone there were only bits and pieces that he could remember about her, nothing very concrete was left. The memories were contaminated with feelings, and because he knew it, he didn't trust them. He thought now that maybe he felt nothing for her at all, maybe he never had. He thought this to himself now that she was gone. Actually, she wasn't gone, he reminded himself. She never left, he did. He came, he left. Oh God, was it really finished? Then it had to have started. He realized now that his thoughts were making him morbid and he didn't really want to feel morbid, so he tried to think about her. He forced himself to think about her, not to make him feel better, because it didn't, but just to get his mind off himself and his damned self pity.
He knew she was great from around the first time he saw her. Probably not from the very first time, but a little after he'd spent some time with her, then he knew for sure. Her attraction wasn't confined to what people call inward beauty; she was very pretty. She also had a sweetness about her that was innocent and feminine, which amused him. He liked the way she wore a lot of browns and pastels; usually mellow, and dressed to match her figure and personality.
He hadn't been looking for her when he found her, and he especially wasn't looking for love. He wasn't looking for anything. He'd thought about love before, but it was more of a thoughtful analysis of it, ponderings of a young and serene mind, based on what he'd read and observed. Not critically, like those who are bitter through failed experiments in it, but curiously and perhaps naievely. He excpected that he would fall in love some time, but he never prepared himself for it in any way. He thought of it in the same way one who is on a journey thinks of his destination. It is what gives him purpose, and to some degree direction. He knew he would find it in time, and when he did he was sure he would be ready for it.
But then there she was, as expansive and colourful as the busy country she was from. The same country that had raised him and spit him out, the hills and forests and neatly paved streets that held his childhood memories like a locked box, beautiful and quite mystical. The country that he'd be leaving in not many weeks, the country he was leaving now that those weeks were over.
He had come back to Seattle to join a friend travelling to Asia for two weeks in the summer, and he'd spent an extra several weeks both prior to and after this trip in Washington to carouse with old friends. He didn't expect it to turn into an epic, and if you'd asked him he'd probably say he didn't want it to. Nothing started here could ever last, he'd told himself a dozen times in the past several weeks, and told himself again now. It could be as long as a year before he'd be back here again. He was glad that he could think about her without being morbid, that he could think of her cheerfully as he was now, and even the failure of it all. He began to feel pleasant again.
He reached inside his travel bag for the picture he kept of her. He stored it inside a book of his that he was reading, to keep it unspoiled. A book by Earnest Hemingway, The Green Hills of Africa. He looked for five minutes before he realized that he'd forgotten to pack it. Damn, I'll have to get Brad to mail it up to me. But no, it wasn't in my room, I checked my room before I left. Where was it last? Oh damn. On the flight from Tokyo. I was reading it and. Yes, that's definitely where I left it. Damn, damn, damn it all. He kept looking for ahwile even after he knew it was gone, and then he closed his bag, turned and looked out the massive airport windows into the grey Washington sky. How fitting, really. What the hell, I guess I really am leaving it all behind.
The picture that he would never see again, the one he'd kept religiously safe the entire time he was away from her in Asia, was of her and him standing on the beach, and looking so happy that as you looked at it, you couldn't help but smile with them. It was a different kind of smile that David Hughes was smiling now, the smile that accepted it all suddenly, with the realization that it's over, all of it, and it's going to be okay. Not now, but soon.
He took a step out onto the tarmac towards his plane, and smiled his last smile into the wonderful misty Washington sky.
Friday, October 29, 2004 -- 9:52 AM
Something that I've been doing lately is purging myself of a lot of crap that I've kept over the years, presumably because its worth something either sentimentally, creatively, or monetarily. I've realized now that if sentiment is really worth keeping I'll have it forever in my mind and soul, I shouldn't need something material to connect it with. And so it goes; creatively, if I haven't done anything with it by now, it isn't worth doing anything with in the future, and monetarily, actually, those things I'm keeping. Even as far as books, I'm seriously considering purging my collection of the intellectually invaluable and those books which, yes it's true, I only have because I like the subject, not the content. DO YOU HEAR THAT, WORLD? DAVE'S POSSESSIONS ARE UP FOR GRABS. Siddhartha would be so proud of me.
Thursday, October 21, 2004 -- 5:20 PM
I haven't posted in awhile. Bite me.
Nothing is as Quiet as a Church
The pulsating reverence surrounds you in the aisle,
and then the pew, as you sit
you have no choice but to bow with it.
sounds are in your ears; people moving, people whispering
but they can't touch you, not here
all is silence here, unbroken
the silence is in your thoughts, and the breath of the organ
bleeding down from the endless ceiling,
past the altar to commune with the Almighty,
before it finds you, softly,
saturates your mind with it's purity
soaks your soul in it's radiance,
and prepares your lips and heart for worship
Sunday, October 17, 2004 -- 1:48 PM
Recap
Wednesday night - arrived at the farm; helped with baling canola straw 'till late
Thursday - began rotatilling on the tractor; rumours of snow; moved the tractor to the south field; moved bales
Friday - checked the fences and moved cows; took the quad out for a spin; finished rotatilling; snow forecasted for that evening or next morning; fixed fences; went into town and drank a lot of vodka; spent the night in town
Saturday; woke up to over a foot of snow; made it back out to the farm; dicked around on the quad and snowmobiel; watched a couple of movies
Today: tried to make it home, but there's too much snow; went to church in town; ate a hot turkey sandwich for lunch. I'll probably be back at home tuesday night or so.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004 -- 11:25 AM
Such as it is, i'm off for the weekend to the farm, where I'll be doing some "farming" and other farm related activities. Such as, you know. Farming stuff. Like a farmer might do.
Saturday, October 09, 2004 -- 2:38 PM
It's good to be back at work. Today a colourful old man came in who I hadn't seen for quite some time. As he was paying, he mentioned that he was part of Rod's "Ten Per Cent Discount Club. But you can give me more off than that, you know, since he isn't here or anything. And it's perfect, because confession is every second Saturday." We shared a chortle. As he passed me his bank card to pay for the books, he said to his friend, "This is my vice, you see. Some people drink, some people smoke. You know. But what the hell." He laughed again. "Don't you feel guilty at all for being the one doing this to me?" he said, to me. "Oh no." I passed him his books. "I go to confession every second Saturday."
Friday, October 08, 2004 -- 9:25 PM
Duck, duck, duck... goose?
Nothing but good memories and beer to keep me company tonight. What the hell am I doing here. I don't belong here.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004 -- 10:09 AM
Best drinking game ever:
1. Take a deck of cards and shuffle. Place the deck face down.
2. Say, "Ace of Spades" and flip over the top card. If the card is not an ace of spades, then you take a drink. You keep playing and drinking until you get to the ace of spades.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004 -- 11:07 PM
The hell with this
she said and as she turned
she noticed something there she hadn't seen
a shadow, or a truth
the shadow of a truth
that hadn't yet shown itself to her
funny that she hadn't seen it before
like she always said,
it wasn't life or death
just something there to have
not important in the least
so why this death she felt?
I thought we could keep it away forever.
Monday, October 04, 2004 -- 8:22 PM
As per my brother's reccomendation, I rented Sylvia last weekend, and I gotta say, it is one fine piece of movie. The acting, by all of the cast, but especially by Gwenyth Paltrow, is quite moving. From what I understand it is an uncannily accurate portrayal of the life of poet Sylvia Plath, including her suicide at the age of thirty. Apparently the only part that portrayed a false aspect of Sylvia Plath's character was the cause of her suicide. Sylvia Plath's husband, the renound poet Ted Hughes, left her after the birth of their second child, and hooked up with some fresh blood. The movie portrays his later rejection of her attempts to reunite as the cause of her suicide. I just don't know why she actually did commit suicide. Check out her poetry anyways, some of it is quite good.
Sunday, October 03, 2004 -- 3:40 PM
Last night after a harrowing couple of hours of youth group, which was at my house, I sat by the fire and relaxed with a cigar and brandy. There are few things more relaxing than a cigar and brandy.
