swingsets

I love playgrounds, even though when I mention that about me or say it outloud or even write it down somewhere, I feel weird saying it, like I'm some freak or something. But they represent a unique piece of life, a fleeting moment of childhood, a fantasy world that never exists again once you outgrow it. Think about it, close your eyes, see the bright paints of metal rings, the clinking of chains holding a swingset, the length of the slide when you read the top of the ladder, half sunken tractor tires, their rubbery smell, the small streaks of black that rub off on your fingers, jungle gyms, hanging by your hands, the wildflowers that grow around those places, the old woodbeams that make up some obstacle course. The fun that we had.

And now, those places and playgrounds are vacant lots to our minds, once played in, but abandoned. Weeds rise high around the bottoms of the poles, the dirt scuffed from your feet dragging under a swingset not muddy and cake dried. The slide doesn't seem so long anymore or so high. Those rubber sunken tires aren't magical getaways - my first kiss was inside one of them; no, they are just sad dried out tires. Everything smells like rust and flaking paint.

What happened to us? When did we forget? I try to remember. In fact some of my favorite memories of people and places and me are in playgrounds, even as a grownup. On tour up in New England, illegally swimming and bathing in a pond, running out of it through a playground as the lifeguard chased us. My first ever injury was in the same place my first kiss was. My first fight and foot race, too.

There is this one playground and park in Mobile, Alabama that holds some sort of supernatural sway over me. Takes me back to some far away place. It's large, it has a huge open field and pond and ducks and swings and it. I have some of the best memories there, and some of the worst. Dread, hope, smiles, almost tears, sunsets, and then sunsets (you know the difference).

And that last thought reminds me of that Thrice song "we move like swingsets". And that brings me back to how we sway and blow in the breeze, and how effortlessly we go here and there. We swing back and forth, and we are at our best when making someone smile and happy. Moving like a swingset.

dreamland

Before there were oceans, the world was all land, portioned and segmented into small civilizations with different lands. Then one day, pieces of the world separated and started drifting in the sky. dirt was falling from these floating pieces, staggered at different altitudes, moving slowly up. I was in the first city to go, it felt like New York City, tall buildings and elevators as we ascended. I was alone, there was no sound (never is) but I did see a sign that said "if you want to go up, you have to go down" and everyone was scared because we were floating, no one knew what to do. I took an escalator down underneath the building i was in, until i was at the bottom of this small floating world, and could see all the other worlds under us. i decided to jump, because i wanted to get back to stable ground, it felt like i fell a million feet, but for some reason i was not harmed.

the next world was more desolate, and i felt like i had grown stronger, bigger, as if each step was a step in something more. i found a giraffe, there were two of them there, the only thing there, and i rode on one and we jumped to the next world. freefalling on the back of the animal, i could feel the wind on my skin, its large neck and mane flickering in the fall. we landed and survived where on the next world i met a girl, and we were connected somehow. she had tattoos of things i'd never seen, she didn't talk but we linked up, and from world to world we went, the next place and then the next place, slowly making our way down to the real world.

we made it to the last patch floating, and people were asking where we were all going, and some said we would go into the sky, and become stars, twinkling, and that's how stars were made, and some people spoke in words i could not understand. and even their words were not spoken with their mouths, but communicated in another way. we looked below our last little floating place and saw that water had filled in where we had left.

this last place was more like a huge c-130 military cargo plane than it was a piece of dirt and patches of grass and buildings. there was a large hangar door that was opened. a man handed me one parachute, that's all they had. we didn't know how to use it, or why there was one even there, but i put it on, she held on to me, and we jumped.

geronimo.

when we landed, she ran away into the night. it was sad, and dark and i couldnt find her. i couldnt remember her name, so i had nothing to call out into the night. and she had no voice so i couldnt remember how she sounded. so there i was, alone in the dark, on earth again, as this woman who i feel is part of me disappears into the dark and pieces of our old world became stars.

(that is a dream i had last night. it feels bigger than something my brain could make.)

moving.

as of next week, i will be living downtown in a loft by myself. it's been a long time coming, something i have wanted to do since i was a kid. live in the city, big ceilings, concrete and brick, old floors.

needless to say the past three or four years have been... life changing, life making, life everything. But this is not about me and my triumphs and a "pat your back" thing, it's more of to tell everyone that if you set your mind to something and you want it, then maybe you will get it. It takes hard work and baby steps and the patience to know that you have to bide your time. Not that I've "made it" or anything. Yet.

Keep pushing, keep breathing, keep searching, keep fighting. If you want it, you will get it. Be stubborn til every door closes, then try to find another way in. If i can do it, my meager and black hearted self, then so can you.

hope

I am not one who holds theological validity to every movie ever made, though I do believe there are small truths in every piece of art, secular or not. I recently made a tough decision, one that was not easy to make and hard to stand by, but a friend told me that's what men do. I suppose so. I miss talking to you. I want to. But I watched "shawshank redemption" - and I know it's a quoted movie- but there are some great lines about good things in there. And so this is just going to be a note to you, with lines from that movie letting me talk to you, even though I can't. I hope that you are the one. I hope that you find your way back to me. I hope that you respond. I hope.

So here are my quotes for you:

Andy: That there are places in the world that aren't made out of stone. That there's... there's somethin' inside that they can't get to; that they can't touch. It's yours.

Red: What are you talkin' about?

Andy: Hope.

"I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright and when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice, but still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend."

"I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope."

"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well."