ready for renewal

At the moment, my roomates are gushing about the details of Snakes on a Plane. They claim it's worth the hype. My mind is more taken with the undulations of sound coming from my mini. I so rarely get to listen to music anymore. Though I deserve it today. My mind is overtaxed, my body uncomfortable from a lack of movement. I yearn to run and swim, but it's dark and I'm lazy. The only realistic option is a walk, and it is so dark out here I wouldn't be able to tell if there were any of those super-creepy centipedes about to crawl onto my leg and send me into a state of agony. Here come the centipede nightmares again.

Tomorrow I go home - all 5,000 miles away. Travel is so much about renewal. Remembering what you return to. Putting things into perspective. This travel involves a wedding, a union, but also a reunion with friends I haven't seen in years. There are quabbles about dress colors, and responsibilities, but I know these things will melt away when we share the same space (as opposed to cyber space where the gripes grow like the Hawaiian ferns that climb the fence outside). These people know a slice of me unknown to others. We shared a time, an era, forever gone, except in our memories.

I have often described the bride, my friend evan, as the most nostalgic person I know. She is a sucker for the emotional moments, seeing the beauty in the mundane and simple. She was the friend who would skip any class to have a margarita at 2:00 in the afternoon. we would sit around for hours on end listening to music, drawing, making mini-books (her favorite past time). Her achilles heel, wanting everyone to be happy, never letting anyone down. The conflicts, sparse like Ohia trees on the backside of Kilauea volcano, were misunderstandings, Evan's goodwill spread too thin, too many promises to keep, and someone let down. Could always have been worse, but the infrequence made them seem important.

Evan and I don't correspond often, one of those friends with whom this isn't necessary. When we see eachother, we sit and make art, and no time has passed, and no time can pass. We stand at the gate with mini-books and drawings in hand, holding back Kal, time, whose devilish force threatens us. I miss her.