Observations of the Night Sky

The night sky used to scare me when I was little. It wasn’t the darkness. In fact it was the opposite. It was the bright stars, and the mysterious expanse behind them that scared me.

I’d look up at night and get lost in the moon; my fear somehow fueling me to want to know what was actually out there.

I was scared because I knew I’d never really know.

My dad had a certain fascination for these things. Maybe he was scared too, but he understood the fear, unlike me, and he used it to his advantage. He bought a telescope and got books from the library. He would spend hours just looking into the sky. Sometimes fiddling around with advanced technological gadgets; or sometimes just taking the natural beauty in with unhindered eyes.

There were times when I just couldn’t look. All you see is the surface, but what is behind it? Its a mysterious veil just waiting to be parted. That’s what scared me. The part I couldn’t see.

Are there aliens out there? They didn’t scare me. I hoped that they would come and teach the ignorant humans a lesson or two.

I watched tv shows about the universe and the theories of what people thought was out there. String Theory, the Big Bang, Black Holes, Galaxys, Solar Systems. They all added up in my brain and overwhelmed me. It sounded like something out of a book. But it was real. Authors need a basis for their fantasy worlds anyways.

Peace in Wild Things

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

~Wendell Berry

Somersault- Zero 7

You're the prince to my ballerina
You feed other people's parking meters
You encourage the eating of ice cream
You would somersault in sand with me

You talk to loners, you ask how's your week
You give love to all and give love to me
You're obsessed with hiding the sticks and stones
When I fear the unknown
You feel like home, you feel like home

You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet, and you were sound
You saved me

You're the warmth in my summer breeze
You're the ivory to my ebony keys
You would share your last jelly bean
You would somersault in sand with me

You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet and you were sound
You saved me

You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet and you were sound
See I had shrunk yet still you wore me around
And 'round and 'round

The Lost Song - The Cat Empire

So many things can happen with just so little words. You can be an idiot, and have so many idiots around you.

Life isn't dictated. It's lived. And you can't live unless you learn.

Learning is making mistakes, and realizing afterwards that you made a mistake, and then trying not to make that same mistake again.

Mistakes are made by living. Trying new things, putting yourself in situations, or, deciding to trust.

Trust comes through exploring. Venturing out into the world with clean, unscathed eyes, covered in naiveté, you try new things; meet new people. Maybe even Love.

Love comes through giving yourself. But, it has to have a balance of protecting and watching out for yourself as well. In order to love another human, you've got to love yourself. You've got to trust yourself. Make mistakes. Live.

Wealth in great amounts

“Oh life with your elegant surprises.”

***

Shooting stars, running for a split second across a dark violet sky. Hot breath escaping a wide open mouth, and blocking the view. The car hood gives a perfect bed,

***

Warm fingers intertwining with cold ones; tingles and shivers running up arms. Nose to nose, eyes focused, and chest tightened.

***

15 feet high. Water below, and a rocky edge. Run and jump…or die. Fast currents take away the little bodies, and the white foam sticks to faces like cotton beards. A natural rock slide, with a smooth surface. At least smooth until the end. Fabric snags on a little rock.

***

A little snub nose, big blue eyes, and a thatch of black hair. Little fingers curl around big fingers. Feet kick out with uncontainable excitement with this new world. New faces, colors, and sounds. Exploration through taste the most effective.

***

The high notes of a trumpet seductively swaying through the air. A keyboard, meshing notes together. He leans in, arms around a skinny waist. His kisses, soft, and slow.

***

Snow, white and beautiful. Gorgeous droplets of shimmery prisms. Pants soaked all the way through. But no one caring. Snow forts are worth the uncomfort.

Being a Homeschooler

We had always wanted to do bad things together. And this was probably the worst. We’re not bad kids, we really aren’t. We’d swear and make our parents go crazy with the things we threatened to do; but in the end, we'd never do anything.

Ivan and I have grown up together. I met him when I was about 7.

Both our families were homeschooled, so we had a lot of free time on our hands. And man, how we used that time. From building elaborate forts in the woods, to running around in capes and sword fighting, we did everything a sheltered homeschooler should do.

My brother would always come along with us, even though he was a couple years younger, but the three of us were basically inseparable.

Once, when we were about 11 or 12, we decided to steal some beer from the fridge. We mapped out our plan for not letting the parents see us. My brother would distract them, and Ivan and I would open the fridge and grab a few bottles.

We really were clever kids, and our plan worked brilliantly. We nabbed three Dos Equis and ran out to our fort in the back. We felt so proud of ourselves. We were Badass. Or so we thought. But as we looked at our stolen beer, we realized, we didn’t have the guts to drink them. What if the parents smelled it on our breath? We’d be dead then.

In the end, we just left them there; a reminder of how we could be bad if we really wanted to.

***

Both of our families have attended the same church for 10+ years now. And over the years, we've acquired a taste for wine. In the Orthodox church, real wine is used for the communion, and so, even though you get only a spoonful once, maybe twice a week, your taste buds get used to the pungent drink after a while. By the time I was 13 or so, I was a wine connoisseur. One week at church we might have Manichewitz wine, and the three of us had discussions whether we preferred this to the port wine, even the freshly made Greek wine used at past Sunday services. Over the years, we decided, hands down, Manichewitz was the best.

This past spring, we decided to take our badass-ness to another level. On Easter, our service gets out around 1am, and we always pull an all-nighter. This year, we ditched the energy drinks, and went for something a little stronger.

There was a case of old church wine in the basement of our church;and to our luck, it was Manichewitz. And so, not wanting to let this perfectly good case of wine go bad, we decided to take it with us to Ivan’s house after the service.

We all trudged up a big hill behind his house. We had a feast of fresh baguettes, cheese and wine, and man, did it taste good. We each had a bottle…and then some. Its the kind of wine that gets really good and strong with age. It has this really nice bold flavor, and since it had been sitting there for a while, it was a little stronger than usual. We were sitting on top of a hill in early spring...but we weren't cold at all.

We all watched the sunrise, and laughed and talked about how we couldn’t believe we actually went through with our plan. Then, once all the wine was gone, we decided to go do something more innocent and traditional. We walked over to the nearby dump and smashed a few abandoned cars with golf clubs.

It was one of the best nights of my life.