nature is a language --- can't you read?
  justwords
 
10:29am 28/12/2008  
 
music: Pornography - The Cure
Last night Hans and I met up at Benson Park.
The weather here is like a dream of March or April--- the snow is all melted, the air has that crisp clean feel that comes with the fertility of spring. All of the smells and associations of the season came flooding back to me as we walked the emptied streets, glittering with fractioned reflections of orange streetlamp light. It was a fundamental joy to sit in the children's play structure, light up a fatty and be dissolved in the organic bond that was established so many years ago. We talked about our lives and the time we've spent, our lovers and our parents who are trying to overcome their addictions.
After the session, it felt as if a beer was in order. Hans brought me down to the Acoustic Grill, which I remember as the Old Codjiggers, a bar my dad used to frequent back after we'd just moved to The County. It was just one rooom and it was packed to the brim. They had Guinness on tap, and not much else-- although Hans tried this light wheat beer from Alberta called The Grasshopper. Our conversations extended to our most recent thoughts, fascinations and obsessions. Specifically we discussed how eerie and finite the communication between the conscious self and the human body is. The most frightening aspect about the subjectivity of our physical selves and the disconnect we all share from the direct furry of this universe, is how over time our ability to communicate with that vessel which holds us to this dimension dulls. It becomes less accurate and more variables contribute to our nerves interpretation of information. As our knowledge of this world increases over time our actual ability to perceive, process and manipulate it, contrarily is dissolving.
There was a "Faux New Years" party going down at this bar, where there were a lot of people from our old elementary school. We ran into Nathan Garrett, who I sat beside all through 8th grade. It was really cool to run into Nathan because he went to PECI and really haven't seen him since we were 13. He was really affectionate and hasn't seemed to change too much. Always a chatter and very intelligent. We reminisced about our class and how a few of us have turned out-- one of our classmates was arrested this past fall for murder. Apparently people were high on e and drunk and there was some kind of dispute and Dan Thompson stabbed this kid a few times behind the Giant Tiger. Apparently a Montague-Capulet-esque family feud started to brew as a result of this loss and somehow youtube videos were involved. Nonetheless it wasn't completely surprising-- Dan wasn't exactly the advocate for peace and working out your issues with words.

It's cathartic to see the sign-posts in my life, a person who has seen the many faces, knows the facts and the abstract and intimate.
Hans expressed a fear that he won't meet friends as good as he's had. It's a valid fear. Time passes, people develop into new directions and wear new skins. We have to slowly peel off all the layers of change and time before the comprehensive, complex totality of true self can ever be known.
Sometimes it just isn't possible to allow the soft layers, as transparent as they could be to honestly be seen.
 
     Post