July 26 - Spelunking

 

Things get noisy. I want some new equipment to make these recordings, but I spend every day at work and don't get to it, and I also spend all the money I make the days at work, so I can't afford it. Sometimes I am afraid of my own sadness. I remember my dad, and other people who have gone. Phil. I wonder what they would say about what is going on this year. I wonder what they would say about my new place. I wonder what they would say about what I had for breakfast. I wonder if they would like my music, or whatever new movie is out, or whatever color I think of, or whatever joke I make. I wish I could ask them about all of these things before I ever made another decision without them. Sometimes I think that's one of the reasons I keep myself apart. I don't want more unanswered questions. I just want to understand. I guess I'm kind of lonely sometimes, but I make myself too busy for it to matter. 

I walked Belle at Whatcom Falls today. We hadn't been in a while, because since the weather got hot, the place is packed with people swimming, and they play their bluetooth speakers and fill the trees with tinny noise. I felt unfocused and tired. Just as we were leaving the waterline trail for the bridge across the falls, I heard a splash and saw some people with a slack line across the creek. I watched a shirtless man scootch to the middle of the line, then carefully raise himself up on top of it with the help of a line above. He balanced himself and then slowly began to set one foot in front of the other, suspended over the water, heavy and complete. I don't think they saw me taking a picture. I wish I could balance like that. 

I miss the frosty cold. I miss the hard ground, and the icicles that would form down at my feet, like teeth in the dirt. No one would be cliff jumping back then. No one would be asking to pet the dog. She's my whole invitation, at least to anywhere without a NO DOGS ALLOWED sign. In those places, I have to think of another way in. I can do it. I can do it. 

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