Vintage: Abril In Fragments: Rivers, Communist Pigs, time is passing (stay in right lane) (Apr 2009)

Lost? Put back the stars. Is time a stream or spaghetti? A passing train? Poor Daniel Faraday.

My mum sends me a message for the future: learn how to be friends.

Future: Mexico. Go. No. Swine Flu. Danged pigs.

Pigs underneath iconic capitalist costumes of the 50s dancing on stage. The priest gassing the people with the sign of the cross (opiates?). Christmas gifts, two gas masks, but the third box is poison gas. (Of) Montreal might be communist, and their keyboardist looks like Nicole. I eat my first hamburger of the semester I think I'll pass.

In Central Europe 1989 communist Totalitarianism is passing away. Protesters oust government in ten days. Solidarity. And I think that MEP's charge that the EU is for peace makes sense and that's why it's important to incorporate the "east" to prevent a interwar repeat failures of democracy. Extremist parties play on fears. In Bulgaria, revolution was anti-Turkish civil rights. Yay democracy.

Catching Second Wind sing Chicago Mr. John Calvin all things grow, old friends: Alana, Audrey, Stephen; new friends: Lyssa with a red scarf curled into pigtails, Jazz, Sam.

Saxophone follow the grey cat in circles like time spaghetti and sit on dry fountains where the stream holds for a while. Beatbox down the South Oval, keeping time: Modern Music (might be communist).

Sing On Fire with David (Oh, and friend Mr. Stokes too, he's a good lad). Sing on Fire in Crossroads for Corey (Solidarity?). Sing On Fire in the dirt in Mexico. Sing On Fire again this fall with the leaves.

When we meet, we are passing each other, striders on the stream. "I'm standing on the edge of me."

Be prepared. ("I've got horns that open bottles and I've got horns that hold my keys." ) For what?

Are you leaving? Kelsey is leaving. Stop taking people for granted. Call Justin, Liz, and Laura. Call Mikey.

I know at least five Lauras. In April we talked about Mexico for quite some time, met on the South Oval, had lunch by the duck pond, gave awkward hugs, and said hello in British accents, respectively.

I also know four Ryans: in April we facebooked frequently, planned to go to Mexico and lead VBS games, jammed out at Youth, and missed planning another game night.

One Ryan and one Laura didn't recognize me for like a week after I shaved.

I know a couple of James Metelaks.

Talk to your mother. This would be better to do before you talk to any females. And sort your own crap (But thank you Maja, for listening anyway).

Pick up the phone, pick up the remnants of a broken house. The walls will have to be torn down. Trash littered around the yard: shelf mushrooms growing on a shovel. Foolish words littered around. I saved the little bicycle, but which of the two seats is the one missing? My bike is broken. Twice, same problems: brakes, back wheel needs replaced. Similarly I find myself making the same mistakes. On my way to Target Stephanie saves me a trip, Rachel saves me a back wheel, and Bepo gives me a bike. Thank you.

Keep sowing kindness, love. But why is darkest Africa a symbol of poverty? Let us give ourselves to feed the hungry. Jamie is getting married and they'll wear green beads.

Trisagion at youth, a service of songs and liturgies. Contrast. Jack Bruno Rachel Soldier Boy dancing. Contrast. College decisions, pros and cons. Eli is posing on top of his jeep. Heath has the stinky leg down. The Backstreet Boys have shown up in Creative Non-Fiction on faith, Jack's car, and nostalgic musings. Basketball with the neighbor kids; Rahhal helps a little guy dunk while Chad trash talks a guy half his size. "The losers have to jump in the pool. It's full of mud." Chicken nuggets, lemonade, frisbee and ice cream.

I have moved hundreds of cases of ice cream in the last month. It's like Tetris. If you ever work at Braum's, ask people at the checkout what they did during their day. Don't just ask them how they're doing, they'll just say fine. If you do ask the right questions, you might meet 3 law students, 5 GAs from different countries, hear two World War II stories and numerous interesting jobs, and a man might mention he seen "everything but the dead raised" when it comes to healing.

And when Boluwaji (sp?) talks about the whole gospel, I can almost believe. But when Greg came we had a dental student look at his jaw and when Greg sang he didn't because it was locked up, but his violin can still sing. I'm still praying and remembering the man in Glasgow (full of communists) on a stretcher.

Sleeping at last. No, not so much. I try to write the pain, but it could never be just to the people involved. I spend my days remembering alternating every breath between past, present, future--my nights doing homework. I have much farther to go. If you love let her go plays as you write a letter. My mother points out that I have a tendency to never live the now. I go a week a without showering, but it keeps raining. Have dinner with and walk with Tim. Sit on the South Oval with Katie and Sarah and watch clouds pass by.

"To clear this clouded mind" I walked down two creeks to the river and picked up my biannual case of poison ivy. "Feed the roots and honor the tongues of the animals." Bullfrog tadpoles, Carl, I thought I saw a turtle disappear, but I know I didn't, however, there's gotta be some magic in turtles' on a high dive, in frogs who remain unseen until they leap out in front of me. Hawks and egrets are omens, but for good or for ill I cannot tell. It looks like I'm staying here until I have more money in my account. I walk to the island and try to sleep with my toes in the river. "Pooling all accounts of peace while passed beneath the canopy glow." The sun burns. We will pass. Slipping under fences, staying out past curfew, breaking the Sabbath for rock music because I feel I have nothing left to say to You, and there is no peace there.

Should I sell my stuff? That's what I preached on April 6th. The early church might have been communist. Greg (Toffee Crunch) sometimes I feel like you're the only one of us revolutionaries trying to live it, despite your mistakes and theologies. I'm still trying to write mine but it came out all wrong. Steven said so and I think he was right. The son of man has no place to rest his head, and I have nothing to give, (solidarity?) and I hope, Greg, that he holds you then if you lose your place.

I'm trying to find mine, Habitat for Humanity? My mom insisted I find one, so I'm living with Nathan for now. Funny-looking kid, he's a brick. We walked down the culvert on Tuesday before we went to the Gazebo where Brittney sang "You won't Relent" and it's been stuck in my head ever since. Please don't God. I sang Overwhelmed which carried me back to the living room in January worship with my parents which carried me back to youth in Pensacola. Does anyone else remember With Every Breath? "Throw your hands to the sky."

I tried to catch the monarch butterfly between the blue and the bricks. The river rolls down Elm and the rain it keeps coming down. The lightning fried Kelsey's surge protector and I had a lovely Easter brunch with some storm chasers. We will pass.

"You can sing a new song." Come what May (or June, July, or August): Austin, Edinburgh, Arizona, Lithuania, Foreclosure, Finals papers, Dallas, Mexico City, Chicago, Paul's Valley, Cal Poly, Divorce, St. Petersburg, Hong Kong, Russian Tanks, Record Labels, Pennsylvania, Oxford, Vancouver, Yokota, The Air Force, Kenya, New Hampshire, Ensenada. For now, for once, I'll be the one staying here. Happy trails friends. :) Go in peace.