Afternoons and Coffeespoons
Someday I'll wear
Pajamas in the daytime
someday i'll have
a disappearing hairline...
Perhaps not. I've got a lot up there. Strangely, my hairline is disappearing, but it's moving from the outside in, not the front back, back front or everywhere at once.
Just got off the phone with Marlene. Old boss. Sort of. Barnie's daughter. Love her.
Here I sit, in my seated position. Legs bent, back straight, eyes only slightly glazed over.
If you've got access to Afternoons and Coffeespoons, put it on.... Now. I'm about to. There it goes.
I've succeeded in finding myself employment in Victoria, British Columbia. Well, sort of, Sooke. At adventuresooke. rads.
What the hell am I going to write about? I don't feel like I've got anything worth sharing with the world inside my head. Without the inspiration of another person, I'm left with the void of my own being. Too many possibilities bounce around my head. From images of the dogs that would be showing in the room if I opened my eyes, then they stop and I focus only on the keys, my fingers, remembering where each key is, stroking it with expert precision. Perhaps a spelling mistake here or there. Inspiration at last.
This morning I woke up in a park. In vic, a person can camp in any park between the hours of seven and seven. It's pretty much the greatest thing of all time. If there was a name for the person that wrote these things, it would be speakable with the tongue of a dog. A simple bark to let the world know that I'm here.
I close my eyes again, and listen to some song lyrics. They bounce around enough to make a person wonder why music even exists. Well, it makes me wonder why music exists. Playing music can be quite liberating. Liberating from thought, fear and self oppression in much the same way that dancing can be. I applied to a dance instructor position. I hope they respond to my email.
Currently clothed, though naked yoga is the greatest yoga and spiders are fearful of onions. They hate them.
Eyes closed. A thought of a lotus is again overshadowed by the images of spiders and dogs. The wolf spider, with spider body and senses, a wolf's head and the temperament of the king of spider rock. Her spell is that of carnage and her spirit is reversed like the inside of a volume contar.
Feared enemy of the wolf spider is Hermetacles. But the rivalry between Hermetacles and the wolf spider is overshadowed by the loathing the spider has for Leeroy McTavish, slayer of spiders and wolves alike. All sizes. Wrist-mounted miniature crossbow locked and loaded, with onion-tipped bolts at the ready.
He moves silently through the forest as only a man raised in such a place could. Carefully, he picks his way along the rocks, careful not to slip, step too heavily. Rocks stay where they were, unaware that "The" Roy has made his way through the area. Once a party of three, El Keego and Johnny Boy dropped off after the first apex of the mission. Even their lights are unable to find The Roy.
The lagoon to his right is a lagoon that has been around since the dawn of time. This was the stuff that birthed the first beings. Things which existed. THINGS WHICH LIVED. tHINGS WHICH EVENTUALLY CRAWLED THEIR WAY OUT. Crawled their way out to contemplate the pools from which they came in some distant past from some distant future. The Roy was a being whose contemplations of the moon led his mind to the center of the sun. In a cycle that included the mind, moon and sun, but that was a future The. A The that does not yet. But soon will. Is becoming. The lagoon is filled with the most basic and sensitive of terrestrial creatures. Creatures with no spines, which live in the saline depths of the warm post-mordial stew. I love those creatures in a way they cannot love one another. He hopes to one day achieve something for their benefit. So they may some day crawl out of that soup. But, he's got to pick up a shit ton more garbage first.
The moved mindfully across the darkened rocks on the shore. Lighted only by the moon. not a full moon. Fading. It's star power, being poured out. Back into the sky where they belong. He dare not light his plastic, yellow flashlight purchased for him by his grandmother in a moment of sheere frustration on both of their parts, for then his post-comrades would spot him, allowing them to find him; stopping him from completing his mission. This mission, as it will forever be known. The Kraft Dinner Mission. Or KDM.
The premise for the mission was simple.
Lead a small party across the island, to the edge of the lagoon and prepare. One standard issue Kraft Dinner. Water only directions. It sounded so easy.
With the scouting and party leading ability of The Roy, the treck across the island was easy. Staff in hand, he led his companion through the elven village, filled with the children of the forest with much ease.l For you see, The Roy once lived in those parts, and knew the lands well. He was friendly with the locals. They were his friends. The wild mushrooms they had eaten together gave them all the strength of the forest. But, the forest was empty now, their laughter and cries are no longer heard, and the darkness is now. Tough to see in the dark. Even for the Roy.
The Roy leads, lighted only from behind, through the elven forest, by the darkened pathy of stumpwood. Rotten odours lift from the forest floor, tickling the nose of The Roy. Disorientation. Confusion. Panic. It obviously grips The Roy, as he spins, gasps and begs for the light. His companion does as instructed and becomes relieved to learn that The Roy has regained his orientation. His panic has subsided.
All for now.