there’s beauty in the breakdown
2 August 2012 § Leave a comment
I’m here at the road I’ve been fighting for for months. I have my Alaskatime, to do with what I will – adventure, party, indulge in silence and longing. As long as it can be done in the rain.
What am I supposed to do now? My missing for this place is when I’m away, in the oppressive heat of Central America, traversing some vast unknown country by road or rail, or anywhere but in the midst of the homely majesty of Here. I was silent all summer, fishing salmon on a boat that could very well end up fast-tracking me toward being a career fisherman.
Shall we make a list of the things I don’t want from the world?
1. Being a fisherman for the rest of my life.
2. Feeling this bruisy, I’m-home-but-what-is-home ache that I only conjure in Southcentral Alaska.
Oh, I’m so attached to my past here. Every time I return, I let my prior stints haunt me – they’re ghosts dressed in sundresses and wool sweaters, always holding secrets behind their smiles, daring me to tell the truth. I fail often enough.
I’m glad the time I insisted on was cut short. Like always, it’s time to move on. This summer, a real-life gypsy called me one of his kin. It felt like truth with a guarantee to never gain closure on anything.
Maybe I’m out of practice at life.