by on May 25, 2016

Into the night he stole from his window

away from quilt and pillow and locked doors

with deftness he moved within darkness

over sill, siding, junipers, aspers

adventure Oh Jake.....

On Traveling Alone -or- Some Form of Pareidolia

by on May 19, 2016

vml is trying too hardSomehow, I’ve bought into the idea that the world is worth seeing. God help me, because it’s probably some awful philosophy that every generation’s hipsters have ascribed to, or it’s what Solomon was referring to in Ecclesiastes when he wrote that the eye is never filled with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing– all things are wearisome, more than one can say.

But cerulean seas and sandy beaches, palm trees, waterfalls and warm weather beckon me to come and see and swim and read among them. Possibly with a beer. So, every now and again, I go. To the mountains, to the ocean or to the jungle. Part of this semiannual propensity to adventure has to deal with the fact that I can’t seem to tell anyone no, so I’m just busy all the time and end up needing a break before I freak the hell out and do or say something regrettable.


Dystopic Microcosm

by on May 11, 2016

vMLGoesToThailandI love the beach. When my mind has time to actually wander, two out of three times it somehow makes it to the sandy shores of the Pacific or Caribbean. I think I love the ocean, too. But once, I went deep sea fishing off the Oregon Coast and might have maybe caught a jellyfish for the most part, but I vomited on it right when I’d reeled it up to the surface, then spent the rest of the eight-hour journey silently spilling the contents of my stomach over the side of the boat. I was way annoyed about this; I’d taken dramamine the night before and again that morning before my father and I embarked on this adventure. He watched the whole thing happen from almost the other side of the boat. He’d caught a bass and wanted to show me but stopped short when he saw what was happening. The whole thing was forced on us by my mother who thought we needed a bonding experience. Nothing keeps a sympathetic puker at bay like throwing up. Admittedly, I lied to her and said, “Mission accomplished.” before walking off, pretending not to be super pissed at her after I was back on solid ground.

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