Saturday, August 28, 2010

Beer Brat(wurst)


Okay, so, today.
Cross-country on that awful course again, but not the same awful course as all the other times it's been awful. The evil you DO know versus the one you don't-- however, it's all very familiar since it's repeated. Over and over and over. Every time the same but different and of COURSE it wasn't what it should have been, but I expected that.

We did succeed, but only half in reality, but two-thirds if you count the kindness. I do, but it's not the same as the actual competition. I did and didn't expect the race to be what it was, and I'm having trouble not being disappointed in myself for the false hope or the false loss, because I don't know which it is anymore. It doesn't make sense. None of this does.

The rest of the day was the kind of summer that I don't always understand the point of. Sweltering heat, shade, poison ivy, people, supposed relaxation, and the overwhelming smell of booze, combined with the sweat of hundreds-maybe-thousands of people standing outside in a field I associate with another time. Bad music playing, but the majority of the crowd wasn't there for the bands. I sat with my phone, talking to people that I don't talk to often enough, if talking and texting is the same. Interesting conversations, but nothing to keep me occupied like being elsewhere, perhaps.

It ended with a legend, but the throng of sweaty bodies impaired the vision, and the sound burst against my chest, deep and suffocating. We left too soon, hearing the snatches of that particular well-known song on the stale air as we left. Dust was everywhere as the cars left behind this day, and the songs of the slowly-being-forgotten band, and I thought to myself that it was rather ironic.

Returned home to emptiness, because once again the house is as it was before I left, with a few more books, perhaps a bit more knowledge added in. The small piece of paper was the only evidence of the eyes of a stranger appraising my home.

Chilly water with poor pressure rinsed off the stink of the day, and then I drove to Colin's for some conversation and a smoothie. The time passed too quickly, though as always the promise to return lingers, sometimes spoken out loud but understood nonetheless.

I am home again, sleepy, and I am not making sense of my own words. Neither are you, I suppose, though I hope you got the meaning the events that I am too lazy to discuss or analyze. Life is busy again, and I have many things that need to be accomplished soon.