Another Chapter Over

“I think I’m much more of myself than I’ve ever been. What does that mean? I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m any one thing. All you can do is be responsible for your words and your actions. I don’t think I’m there yet, but I have my moments. I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m comfortable with being uncomfortable.” Justin Pierre

Quote of my life.

Well hello. Again, I have to say, I haven’t been posting as much as I should have. But, that’s water under the table… or something like that.

Thought I’d update Mister Internets about my life and the currents that pull me.

First off. I’m done with my “first year” of college. I say first year because I’m not sure how many credits I pulled out and how many will transfer. It’s been a fun few months full of finding my love in English, realizing music theory isn’t for me and neither is philosophy. I’m consistent in finding my “quarterly crush” and not doing a single thing about it. I found out that Community College is just glorified high school. I’ve stayed up at late night movie nights. Traveled to UT, twice. Both amazing trips with a couple of exceptions. Met some awesome people and made friends out of them. Expanded my vision in literature; scoping out a couple novel ideas, writing music blogs, amongst other things. Am reading other things besides Harry Potter. I bought and am in the process of learning how to play ukulele. I also went to various concerts including Paramore and New Found Glory. Failed to write my best bud in Italy. Solitary mowed a lawn about a Baker’s dozen times. Co-produced/directed a high school play, and ran the lights on another (things I have never attempted to do).

Heck, what a year.

What’s next on my plate that I’m about to digest into brown matter? Well, let me tell you.  I’m moving to Utah. Yes, you heard/read me right. I’m going to be attending Utah Valley University, home of the Wolverines located in Orem, in the autumn. Now, if someone told me I’d be moving to UT 6 months ago, nay!, 3 months ago, I’d probably deck them in the face and call them a liar. I’m not that fond of UT, never have been. I still don’t want to go there. Anywhere but there. But I feel like it’s the right thing to do. Why? Well, I need to get out of S-town, first of  all. Yes, I love my family, I love the peninsula. But it’s so encasing and claustrophobic here, I need to get out. Well, you could go to Idaho! Yes. You’re right, but I don’t feel a pull from any of the colleges there, sorry ID. BYU-I? I have my reasons for not going there, facebook me if you need them. BYU? Yeah, outta the question. My brother and his wife go to UVU, they love it. Gave me a tour, I like it so far. Seems like a good place, with jobs, I hope. I’m going. With mixed feelings, mind you. Leap of faith. I’ll be going probably in August. Plans are still in the works. Dude, plus I need to get married. I’m dying here.

What else is there to say really? I can’t write about the future unless I just came back from it. 88 mph! I wish.

Chapter Two: The Sun Woke the State

Chapter 2: The Sun Woke the State

A shifting of pancakes built an attractive fragrance that grew from the kitchen, filling the whole house. He shuffled on the nolumium floor fumbling spatulas and various containers, choreographing steps from one side to another. It was early for some, but not for him. Keith was an insomniac when it came to finishing projects, even if the deadline wasn’t fatal. Morning was especially his favored time of day, full of opportunity and sparse of distraction.

When the just about prepared meal came to a frame of resting Keith raced up stairs to stir the loves. First he gently knocked the door open to his own space where his wife was still softly dreaming in a heap of quilts in a soft dim. The brightest object about the room had to be her hair. It reflected the end of a candle with its red texture and geographic scope. It went everywhere and attracted all eyes as it passed. Keith sat on the edge of his own bed near his wife, whose name was Katy, and gave a small peck from his lips to her forehead. She knew immediately what it meant. Her lips left its non-expression sleep state to a full grin.

“What time is it?”

“You always ask that.”

“What time is it?”

“6:34”

“What time did you get to sleep?”

“Didn’t.”

“You dumbass.”

Keith couldn’t help but to mirror her grin at this comment.

“Breakfast is up, come down.”

She rolled over, and Keith expected her appearance in a baker’s dozen minutes.

He then knocked quietly on the neighboring door which was his daughter’s room. There was a faint shuffle from inside he could barely hear and could distinctly know. Keith pushed open the door and found his daughter, whose name is Kelsey, to be lying with a tilted fake smirk in a pool of window light. Stepping over books and toys he stepped inside with the soft feel of the carpet under his soles. Her follicles were as frenzied as her mothers and even brighter in hue. Keith felt she was the miniature twin or inaccurately thought reincarnation of her mother. This made him love her even more.

Her smirk shivered more and more as he approached. As he sat on the edge of her mattress she couldn’t contain it anymore; she raspberried a laugh.

“Why you little!” Keith jokingly teased as he tickled and tormented her sides where the nerves were tender to the touch causing even more laughter. Kelsey kicked and churned with her eyes clutched closed from the torment of silent pain. Color reached her pale checks.  “Daddy! Daddy! Stop!!! Ahh!” This was almost a daily routine.

He stopped. “How long have you been up for?”

She turned her head to the clock’s face and quickly calculated. “One hour, 14 minutes.”

“And what have you been reading?”

Kelsey folded up an edge of her fleece to show a ruby flashlight and a copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Her dad picked up the classic and rapidly flipped through the pages. “Ahh! The tale of Alice through the rabbit hole encountering all sorts of randomness, not to mention several beheadings by Charles Dodgman, also known as Lewis Carroll.” Kelsey looked troubled. “The author of this book had an author alias… another name he went by… for some reason…Guess he wanted to protect his identity.”

“Why would he ever want to do that?”

“I really haven’t a clue. I’ll Google it for you.”

“I wish I could be like Alice; travel to Wonderland.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“To have tea with the Mad Hatter! He’s funny,” she said smiling through sparkly white.

“He’s mad, like your old man!”

She laughed.

“Maybe we’ll have our own tea party here, right in your own room. You’ll be Alice; I’ll be the Hatter… Fluffy can be The March Hair… and… Mommy can be… the Red Queen.”

She laughed again.

“Don’t tell your mother I said that.”

She agreed with a nod of her head.

“And when we come from the room, it’ll be the same time that it was when we started. Everything will be the same, but our experiences.”

Keith had a sudden warmth sweep over him, not the kind that you feel with skin but the time you feel.  There was something about the design of time ceasing to tick and tock, never aging or changing in condition. This feeling stemmed from his devotion for his Alice and his Queen of Hearts and bloomed from the joy of being able to have the titles associated with them. “Father” and “Husband”.

He placed the children’s satire back on the sheets and hinted “If you’re hungry you’ll find a treasure downstairs in the shape of the moon.” Her eyes widened and she leapt from the confines of unconsciousness. The gallop she made rattled the stairs and the airwaves. Keith followed in a more dignified manner.

When they both reached the destination, the dining room, they partly demolished the workings of the morning’s labor. Plates covered in flap-jacks, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs and toast complimented by orange juice and black coffee shaped by porcelain cups. The heat of the kitchen still echoed into the dining room proving it to be a more comfortable atmosphere for the pair.  As expected, the matron of the family made her lovely entrance wrapped in a sapphire colored bathrobe.

Chapter One: Leather Couch

Chapter One: Leather Couch

I don’t know. It happened back when things were easy. When things were more simple. I even used to smoke.  Now I can’t bear the idea of a tiny flame inches from my mouth. I don’t know how people can do it. I guess it’s because they haven’t seen what I’ve seen.

I can’t even stand the idea of seeing my breath on cold days. I imagine that my insides are burning; that my blood isn’t blood, but flames. And the air I see is smoke. That my insides are burning. Makes sense. I produce heat as everybody does… Fire is hot. More than hot. Destructive.  I hope I’m not destructive. I drink water constantly hoping that it will stop. I don’t care if my body is 70% water. I wear long sleeves and pants all the time. But that is to keep smothering the potential flames.

I made my move from California to here. I couldn’t stand the idea of all those forest fires and the miles and miles of ocean. Didn’t make sense to me. Here, I almost have a 360 degree escape. Yet, I’m trapped if the fire comes from Sampson and heads south. I’m quite a good swimmer though. That’s the only place I feel even remotely safe, holding my breath under fresh water. Ironic. Anyway, if anything like that happens, I have confidence I could swim to Westport. But this place seems the safest I could find on the map.

I’m paranoid of everything. I’m afraid if I’m out in the sun too long that my skin will catch fire. They don’t call it sunburn for nothing. When I see the fog in the morning I have to calm myself and keep telling myself the truth. I have to keep myself from hyperventilating. The only place I feel safe is the beach. I imagine the clouds are smoke. That it’s burning in Heaven. I don’t even own an oven. Why do people have bon fires? Did you know that the Indians made fires to communicate with each other over long distances? Crazy.

Ever thought of a volcano? How can something even hotter than a forest fire be something that creates? Hawaii continues to grow in size. Doesn’t make sense. I don’t like things that don’t make sense.

Ever thought of the Salem Witch Trials? They would burn “witches”. Burn them! Not because they were witches but only because they were paranoid. What an incredible price to pay because of someone else’s irrational phobias.

I try not to affect other people by my own. But I don’t think it’s irrational. Millions have suffered because of fire. Ask California. Shouldn’t you fear something that could hurt you? Why wouldn’t you? That in itself is irrational.

Unlike everybody else, I hate sunrises and sunsets. They remind me of somewhere over the ocean that is on fire. People dying. Is that irrational? Well… what is rational?

It’s stupid that people make their houses out of wood and also that they throw wood into their fires. Doesn’t anyone connect the two?

Was the Dutch crazy in making their shoes wooden? Seriously.

Could I get a glass of water?…. Thanks.

Maybe California is going to hell. All of them. All of it, I mean. With all their fires it seems they’re already there. Everybody says that they’ll break off of the continental US. Maybe they’ll be burning while they’re floating away. Then sink in flames. Maybe the state will be too hot that when they sink the water won’t quench the flames. Maybe.  Do you think they’ll deserve it?

Do you think it was really an “Ice Age” that killed the dinosaurs? Some say it was a meteor shower. Swallowed up all of them in flame and smoke and dust. I wonder what they did to deserve all of that. I’d rather not go like that, even though the Good Book says we will. I’d rather be frozen. Maybe they’ll be survivors and they could unfreeze me and I’ll be in a world of ice with zero chance of fire or smoke of any kind.

Is the White House made of wood? I don’t think so. It looks like it’s made of marble. It should be made of wood.

When I’m on my boat at Grays Harbor or the Pacific and fog is all over I imagine that the whole continent is on fire. All of it. I freak myself out. I have to call people. I cry to myself, knowing that I was the lucky one who just happened to be out on his boat. But I know that I’m safe. I’m surrounded by water. I’d be safe. But where would I go? I couldn’t eat raw fish… well, there is sushi. I don’t know.

When I hold my palms close together they create heat. I haven’t done it in a while. It scares me. Don’t try it in front of me. Please.

Heartburn takes me to the emergency room.

I detest spicy food.

I walk everywhere. But I don’t walk often. Are you crazy!? So much smoke from the other cars. I’m still debating which is safer: to drive or to walk. I don’t feel safe driving anything with fire under the front and smoke… okay, exhaust, coming from the back. It’s like being in a huge cigarette.

I don’t like talking about this…. But I will…. if it will help.