Oh the boxes

My life revolves around boxes. I moved 13 times by the time I was 13. I worked in a warehouse for years, and now I’m working at another. 

Fill up orders, put them in boxes, get them shipped out. But I like it. It’s a bit therapeutic, and there are far worse things I could be doing with my winter.

I had a deep conversation with any ex park ranger once. He mentioned the business here is tough because it’s all seasonal. You either resign yourself to odd jobs over the winter, or go unemployed. 

Granted I’m no where near being a ranger at the moment… but trail work follows the same pattern. Especially when you’re first starting out. 

I found my odd job on craigslist. It fulfilled a need. And the people I work with are some of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. I’m happy to have found them. 

If the universe deems my plans worthy, maybe we can work something out each winter. No more searching… just steady routine. Routine helps with my seasonal blues. Keeps me on track. Please universe, deem us worthy. 

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Bring on the sun

I wasn’t expecting you. I saw you immediately. I think I was sitting I  the dining room, still wide eyed and out of my depth. But I watched every move you made, I couldn’t look away. It was almost like I knew you, but I didn’t even know your name. 

What I did know, was that you were hurting and you wanted to be left the fuck alone. I didn’t know why, but I could feel it. The anguish that rolled off of you was palpable, and I was already struggling. 

So I kept my distance. 

I discovered who you were shortly after. You spent most of your time on the front porch with a cigarette and a book. 

So I kept my distance. 

I avoided approaching you at all costs. There were other people I could get to answer questions, and in time I became one of the people answering questions for others. You’d been gone on hitch after hitch. And when you returned, I  almost didn’t recognize you. 

You were still the most beautiful man I’d ever met, that hadn’t changed. But something inside you healed over those few short months. And for the first time, I saw you smile… And it made me want to cry it was such a welcome sight. I asked you if hell had finally frozen over, and we both laughed. 

That weekend changed everything. Well, not JUST that weekend. I gave you a ride, and it was your turn to notice that I was hurting, and I was lonely. Only you didn’t keep your distance. You asked me out to dance… And dear god I almost told you no. I almost decided to stay in feeling sorry for myself… 

But I was lonely… And while I wasn’t really interested in yet another one night stand, I’d been crushing on you since that first day I saw you. 

I didn’t really expect to see you after that night, but I was still lonely… And you actually responded when I’d txt you. So I did. And I slowly got to know you over the next month. I wanted to see you again, and you were up for some fun. It would be nice to have a friend with benefits around till I could sort my life out.

You hit a snag that weekend, so I lent yoy my car for the next few weeks while I was working. We spent the next few weeks together. And I still felt like I’d known you before. 

Some people give off different impressions. Many people I’ve known with depression are like little gray clouds. They might rain, they might just stay dreary. Some are like roiling thunderheads, passionate and deep and desperate… But you were something different. You were like the sun rays breaking through after a storm, taking in that first deep clear breath. Carefully treading on a path of healing. 

I hope I’ve helped you on that path, helped coax a little more sun from those fading clouds. Because I can’t begin to tell you all the ways you’ve helped me. 

I’ve lived more in the moment these last few months than I have my entire life. I’ve learned to appreciate myself and each day regardless of what the storm may bring. Because I’ve seen that the clouds can break, and whether that day be good or bad, there’s a promise of sun. 

At some point we’ve become much deeper of friends. I know we’ll forever be integral parts of each other’s lives and futures. I’m thankful we found each other. And I’m so incredibly excited to see what this year unfolds for us. 

Bring on tomorrow… bring on the sun. 

I made it? 

The great mountain migration… the quest for Asheville. I have succeeded? 

I mean, I live here at the moment. But… 

But?

What? You’ve been ranting and raving about getting up here no matter what for the last 17 years. What do you mean but? 

Simmer down, hear me out. 

When I left ace, I was in something of a desperate mind set. I was lonely, missing my boy, but the thought of going back to Florida left my guts twisted. I had to stay. Some how, some way… so I did. 

I’m living in a room… a small one, in a bed that isn’t mine. Ethan is sleeping on a sofa… we’re intruding oon someone else’s life and paying them for it. But it’s not quite… right. 

I had initially spoken to the boy about sticking together this year… But this isn’t quite right. 

That’s when I saw it. The job I’d been eyeing for years. It means being away for longer, but the results? To work on the Appalachian trail, to be partnered with someone I hold in such high esteem… could I really pass it up? 

If we could stretch out this strange split arrangement for a couple of years, the universe might actually see something through. We might actually have the money for our property, to do things right. To plant real roots. 

Summer on the trails, winter in the mountains… just for a couple years. It’s still the mountains. It’s still trail work. And it wouldn’t be like ace. I’d actually get paid this time. 

Wish us luck, because I’m taking the step at a running leap.

Farwell

It is with a sad heart that I write this entry. One of my more devoted followers passed away recently. 

Dee was beautifully outspoken and opinionated and I had the pleasure of working with her for a short time. In fact I had hoped briefly to highlight her bright personality along with my father’s. But I didn’t have quite enough time to get the material I hoped for. 

Dee passed in October. And I never made the time to process that. As if anything that could have been going on could have accounted for closing over the extinguishing of her flame. 

For that, I’m sorry. 

Dee, you will be missed and remembered. Thank you for always speaking your mind.

Here again…

Does it truly come as a surprise to anyone that there are like 2 months between my last post and this one? 

For the record, I am not resolving to do better this year. Let’s face it, I’m inconsistent at best. But then this blog has always been something of a tool, an outlet, a means to kick start my brain. 

I have a lot to say… But then I don’t know if I do. I don’t know if I wasn’t to try and cram everything into one long post or if I want to split it up. I don’t know if I truly want to share it all. Not because it’s bad, but more of… Why? 

I could tell you every trial, moment of joy or euphoria… But why? To immortalize my life, but for who? Do I truly believe that one day Ethan, or universe allow another child of mine to one day want to know me on a level they never thought to ask about? Or is it just for ego? To place a small footprint into the interwebs as proof that I did exist. 

My greatest fear you know, is being erased by time. Not leaving a mark or impression on the world. Being just another beige strand I  the tapestry of time that gets overlooked.

The haunted…

Early morning, the sun hasn’t even dusted the sky with a touch of color yet. Everyone’s asleep but myself and the exceptionally large dog we live with, Winston. I’m brewing up some coffee when I’m overwhelmed by a ton of things happening at once. A chill goes down my spine, I hear a distant otherworldly woman’s voice, Winston jumps and barks, the cats hiss and run, the room goes even darker than it already was and I can feel (along with hear) the creaking of the wooden floor boards as someone rushes through the dining room towards us. 

I hit the light and spin around… But there’s nothing. Winston’s hackles are up, but otherwise he’s standing there looking as confused as myself. Just as quickly, everything goes back to normal. “Normal”.

I chuckle nervously, tell a few people but otherwiselet the incident go with just a lingering uneasy feeling. 

Murphy mentions how much unused space there is in the wall between the kitchen and living room. Someone built in a little shelf and hutch, but there’s a good portion of it that’s just empty. Ethan suggests that it’s just the opening to make it easier to get into the basement. Look at that, the boy has a more level head than myself. 

Yesterday however… the house gets swarmed by hundreds of flies. Most are trying to get in at the window by the dining room. We couldn’t figure out where they came from or why they’re around, but they’re still buzzing around this morning.  So as a joke I send a Marco polo and creep up on the basement and pop it open. As I’m recording, I realize Ethan’s theory about the space is wrong. It’s a sealed box tucked away. 

The previous roommate jumped ship on short notice… But come to find out she didn’t even have any place to go. She left for a hotel. So now I’m thoroughly unnerved, only I’m stuck here at the moment. I don’t have the money to go anywhere else. 

So I shall document these incidents to share with you. 

Enjoying the little things

Are we cogs in a machine? Threads on a loom? Or are we really creatures of complete free will guided by nothing? 

No matter what your belief, or theory, or faith… we are here. And things happen out of our control or desire.  What we can control however, is how we manage these. 

I prefer to savor the good moments. A few seconds holding the hand of someone I love. Randomly playing in a pile of fallen leaves. Or sitting on the front porch, drinking coffee and watching the sunrays dance across the dew on a spider web across the yard. 

I have my dark moments. When the magnificent shadow smothers me to the point I can’t breathe… sometimes it takes just that glimpse of brightness to remember that I’m stronger than the shadow.