car that goes boom (anchorsong) wrote,
car that goes boom
anchorsong

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around here she's always on my mind

maybe i'll too discover, like che guevara, that my true vocation is to roam the highways and waterways of the world forever. always curious, investigating everything i set my eyes on, sniffing into nooks and crannies; but always detached not putting down roots anywhere, not staying long enough to discover what lay beneath things because the surface is enough. che's father said that his obsession with traveling was just another part of his zeal for learning. he knew that really to understand the needs of the poor he had to travel the world, not as a tourist stopping to take pretty pictures and enjoy the scenery, but in the way he did, by sharing the human suffering found at every bend in the road and looking for the causes of that misery. his journeys were a form of social research, going out to see for himself, but trying at the same time to relieve suffering if he could.

one of the perks of working at a resort, aside from the plethora of free activities like mount mckinley summit flights, rafting, horseback riding, atv tours, whale watching, etc, are the interactions with the many tourists who come in and out. although our topic of conversation is often repetitive, they're always quite inquisitive about why i'm here. they become wide-eyed and impressed, and ask about my landings. and they always question, "what's next?". i never give a solid answer, because frankly, i do not know. ordinarily, if not always, they tell me to keep going, "do it while you can".

and i'm finally at the edge of muddy headaches and noisy wet coughs, which first occurred shortly after a five hour white-water rafting trip on the glacier-fed nenana river. it wasn't exactly the greatest event-day, as the sun was content on playing peek-a-boo, and my hat deprived me of protection from the invincible wind. cat and i attempted to cuddle, but we failed in our space-like dry suits and hulking life jackets. but that dud made us laugh, which was crucial because for a few moments we actually forgot about our numb bodies.

to christopher: thank you. earlier that evening after a long hike, we encountered two male travelers who insisted on buying us pint after pint of alaskan amber. so when we reunited, i was in the clouds. you were writing. carmen always told me to wake up (despierta! despierta!) and come down. [little did she know i was scheming up this great love affair with unbelievably romantic filmatic images. do you think she knew i woke up every morning smiling?] my passions became more pronounced. i am a seeker of beauty and all that inspires. you were right on, which baffled me because my closest friends can't even seem to identify. do you know that she lives in my head? that sometimes it's difficult to distinguish between what's real and what's imaginary? i'd give anything right now to be on the roof with buckets of color, and like audre lordes mother, i too have a special relationship with words. i don't want to leave the confines of this rectangle until i've produced something out of nothing that makes my eyes well up. love is the antecedent of everything in my universe. do you know anything about love?

you suggested that i use the silt from the river, but i was thinking about using something a little less socially acceptable. i discovered charles gatewood, a photographer out of san francisco one afternoon at an oakland eatery. would you rather i drive drunk or photograph scantily clad girls?

fresh sheets are awaiting, and i cannot think of anything i want more right now, except for maybe someone i love by my side.
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