Why does it happen? Unintentional, that’s what I keep telling myself, it’s unintentional. At least I pray it is. I have no description to fit my curse… no fitting one anyways. It’s as if… as if I have this ability to take a heart, and twist in around mine in circles, making it a co-dependent creature. The heart will feed off mine… grow used to the taste and strength of it. This heart will soften its beat as I beat strong for two, for I am strong and can bare such things. The connection will be strong too, and healthy. Peace everlasting a promise…
… and then I take my prey. Never intentionally, but always still, I become the Hunter. Seduced to my calling by Fate, she tells me it is time to leave… and I the great fool listen with deaf ears and respond grandly. First I tear my heart from its companion and return it to my ragged chest. I leave, and upon my exit I always take the time to let out a great howl towards the moon. Shining jewel that it is, I am its slave. To the shimmering moon and the bitch Fate I answer.
Then I run. I run for days, hunter that I am, seeking whom I shall next devour. And all the while a thought tears at the back of my head… “What am I forgetting?” I can’t quite place it, but I know there is something. Something forgotten. I place the thought, like I wish I never had, and then the image comes…Oh God, what have I done?
What I see is my creation… a tortured mass lying on the ground. Surrounding is a shallow pool of liquid… blood mixed with tears, I think. No matter how hard I shake, I can’t make this figure move… this shell of the one I knew. It is not gone, for beside still lays the heart. Beating weakly; alive still. I did this?
That is when I know again that I am not the Hunter. Fate’s hunter is ruthless, and kills with precision. But at least it shows mercy. But I… am worse. I, the Corruptor. So much more ruthless than one who will give release, I torture long after my leave. These scars I make maim… but never will I let your feelings die. That is my curse you see, that I am not hellish enough. If I was, I could release you… end the pain. But that is a strength I do not have… weak, too weak. How can I stop this?
And so I hide… I hide from you and say little. I stay in dark shadows, and hope you won’t find me. It’s not cruelty that keeps me distant, I swear. It’s the only kindness I’ve ever done. Too many suffer out there in the world on my account. But not you… it can’t be you too. Such a heart you have, a sincere, kind, and loving heart… and because of what I am, I want nothing of that heart. I will destroy it.
You must grow strong, but you must do so independent of my curse. You must live long, so you can understand that this is wisdom. But most of all… you must stay sweet, and never let me touch you… for that will be your end. An end I won’t allow.
Hear me, I beg… and in time, believe. Until then, let me be nothing… your only choice for peace.
I knew it was coming. Already it had seemed like so much had come together for it to happen…. but also, so much left undone.
. . .
…Questions…
I looked into her eyes as we stood there silently in the 100 Hall... or at least I tried to ha ha. See it was hard to look her in the eyes when those eyes, those same beautiful eyes, were wandering so much. Questioning… something.
I wanted to know the question so bad it was killing me. See I’m terribly curious even without the extra incentive of caring for someone… so it’s easy to see how standing there I was almost fidgety. What was bothering the girl that I had spent so much time with trying to make her happy, and me happy at the same time? I was willing to beg for an answer if I needed to... I’m talking on my knees and everything if necessary… almost ha ha. Only… maybe not yet. Because when I started to think about it I knew I wasn’t in a situation for answers. I’d have to deal with the fact that there were questions until I myself wasn’t so fragile… it was just better that way I’m sure. In the mean time I was kinda just standing there still, leaving her hanging… so I knew I needed to make a decision. At that point I quit looking for answers… double-checked that the hallway was finally empty (stupid Balcar ha ha)… and then I kissed her. For only a moment…
…
Hmm… So where to start?? See I know that there has already been one history written on the subject… on Chaos, and what she has done and continues to do for me with such loving care… but I know just as well that the first history was clearly… well, incomplete. It very effectively (and intentionally) skipped much of the inconvenient time that occurred between my meeting her and now… but now I see much more clearly how important that in-between time was in creating the now to be everything it is. So now that I know, I *know* how simple it will be for her and me to stay together (yay easy!!), I definitely don’t mind slowly filling in the blanks of this history (probably more for myself then her), and bit by bit if need be. Of course though, this history is one that I hope continues on for longer than I can even imagine. It’s given me so much more to look forward too then I’ve ever thought possible already!! And for, for everything, I will always owe anything I can give to a girl named Chaos. A girl who holds my heart…
…
That night I didn’t know how to feel at all. I think if you would’ve looked up the definition of ambivalence, and then looked at me, and then looked back at the definition, you would’ve noticed more than a few similarities. A part of me was felt like it was unbelievable… something I would’ve never imagined, never thought possible. That part of me was outrageously excited, no hiding it. (Think happy dance ha ha) That part of me put the smile on my face that most other people saw. That part made me believe so many things were still possible; still hopeful. But, unfortunately there was another part of me too. A part that didn’t just exist, but found this terrible way of creeping in the back of all my excited thoughts too. This part of me just kept saying… Hold on, what if I was wrong??
What if I was wrong to have done what I did, to kiss her like that? And then like it usually goes for people, the more I thought, the more I worried about it… until I was so damn worried the only thing faster than my breathing was my pulse ha ha. The effects were kinda just as physical as they were mental. It made me feel sick through my practice that day, and when I wasn’t lying awake excited (which was still a definite considerable amount of the time ha ha) … I was shaking. The whole shaking bit has happened before too… companioned with the same general feeling of shame… a horrific feeling. Definitely up there with guilt, (but still well below hungry ha ha). But at least I can say that I knew exactly where these feelings were coming from. It was no mystery… see like I said, I’d felt all these before. All were pretty much direct consequences of me feeling really really selfish ha ha. I was convinced that whether a good move or a bad move on my part, the timing of it all meant what I had done was definitely a selfish act. Meaning, if I had made a problem for someone else, then it was time for me to do what I usually did best. Fix the damn thing!! Oh man, I knew I had so much to do ha ha…
…
The next day I tried not to make things different... you know, covert emotions and all that. Now if you notice I said *tried* because I have this nasty habit of looking like I feel, so I’m not completely sure that it wasn’t obvious that I was worried. My bad, what can I say? I’m a guy… a kinda obvious one ha ha. For as much that I can recall, the first part went surprisingly well. Of course I say that from the perspective that I was expecting the worst… including but not limited to the possibility that by the end of the day I could be very alone. And for me that’s practically end of the world status!! So needless to say that when I had at least made it through the school day without that or anything else violent happening, I was feeling pretty okay. I felt like with that much out of the way I was more or less safe. Although… there was this slight feeling that something was coming. You know the feeling ha ha… the one that finds you like right when you wake up… (this subtle little knot feeling or something), and then it just insists on following you for the rest of the day. Some call it your gut, others a heightened “alertness”… but whatever it was it was, it was kinda with me then. So of course there I was after school, meeting up with the same girl who I had spent so long thinking about the night before. Her only words were… “So I have the verdict.” That gut feeling I had escalated to something just less than stomach pains ha ha. She had something to say… something that more than likely I didn’t want to hear…
I tried to give the least suspicious “What’s up?” that I could, because honestly I had no idea what she was talking about, leaving the off chance that it was something… well, not destructive ha ha. She started to speak… but I couldn’t pull myself to pay attention to her words yet. No, I was a bit too busy studying her countenance. You see, that is the one thing that years of helping sad girls had given me… more often than not I could read at least something into emotions. The real ones I mean… not just the ones they wanted us to see. Facial expression always counted for something… but a thousand times more useful than anything were the eyes. You could see anything you wanted if you looked in a girl’s eyes long enough. And this girl, with her beautiful blue eyes, was by no means an exception. She had very telling eyes. And they glowed yellow-gold in the sunlight too... Mmm ha ha. Anyways, she didn’t appear too upset… at least that was on my side. She wanted something though, which I guess that meant I should start listening ha ha…
She continued to speak, and I started clinging to the words that made sense to me like they were the last I’d hear from her. Because for all I knew they could be, right ha ha? Anyways it didn’t matter much because the most important fact now was that my curiosity had won out totally, cause as usual I hated the feeling of not knowing. I was definitely ready to just know. So I listened… and heard something along these lines: Apparently she had had a conversation about me with her friend Michael, her self-proclaimed “informant” who had no problem digging up whatever information she wanted ha ha. Before this title has always been a joke between us (a good informant was hard to find I’ll admit)… but suddenly I wasn’t so encouraged by the fact that she had some sort of news about me. It was only fair I guess… but still. The story went on, and after having to ask her several times what “verdict” she was talking about (so very stubborn ha ha), she decided I had suffered enough I guess and told me. She spoke and told me in a very unattached manner, (which in itself was unusual enough), that “The verdict is that you and her are still going out.” Hmm… not good.
...Tough Answers…
All I could really think is… what now?
Of course the statement had some truth in it, but the question came anyways. What now?? See I had already forced this question on myself a good amount of times by this point in the year ha ha. And every time it was entirely my fault, I know. But the worst part was that I was digging myself into plenty of holes with all these questions… and one of these times I knew I was going to dig a little too deep, and I was going to get buried alive down there. Sad, but true ha ha. Of course they wouldn’t be so bad I suppose, all those questions I mean, if I hadn’t started doing something I knew I was terrible at… lying ha ha, and poorly. The pile of lies I had formed was just waiting to come tumbling down. Anyways… this went through my head fairly quickly before I had made my decision. It was really the easiest “decision” I had made in a while when I think about it ha ha. I knew I didn’t want to lie to her… I’d been lying to everyone else plenty… but I needed at least someone to have the truth... someone to trust me at least a little. Someone to hate me as an honest person, instead of hate me as a liar. She needed to know… So I told her
…
I told her what there was to know. I did my honest best to make it the truth… but that doesn’t mean what I was saying would make any more sense, because truthfully there were some things even *I* was confused about. I told her that I was still dating someone else… in a way. Technically we were between two stages of relationship… but if I’ve learned anything since then about technicalities, it’s that they can kill you faster than anything else if you try to force them around on others and yourself ha ha. I told her everything… as open as I could be. I told her because she needed to know… because I knew I was forcing her to make a choice. I gave her as much as I could so that she could know what she was getting in to when she made her decision of whether to keep me as a friend or not. But I knew she’d have to be crazy or something to be my friend after all this. All I got from her was a single “Oh”… I apologized, and that’s the last of the conversation I remember. It’s all kind of blur after that ha ha…
I went on my way, and she on hers… but I swear there were still enough unresolved issues there to choke someone if they would’ve walked through where we were just standing and inhaled it all ha ha. I do recall that there was one thing that surprised me above all else I remember though… something I couldn’t understand until much later. I couldn’t think why, but for some reason she never blamed me for what I did. She never called me a cheater, or a player, or any of the other names for me floating around the school after that. She never blamed me in a situation where it would have been so right of her too. Believe me.. I deserved to be blamed ha ha; I knew that more than anyone else. Yet when I think back… back to those times and the times after then… I don’t think Chaos ever blamed me for any of what happened. And even though she should have, even though she had every right to call me out on what was happening, I think the fact that she didn’t made her the only real friend I had. Someone pleasant to me despite myself ha ha. I owed her immensely for that… and of course still kinda do. (Don’t argue its true!!) She had made a decision that put herself in harm’s way for my sake… a decision that although a bit silly was the most courageous thing I’d seen all year. That girl just kicks so much ass ha ha…
I had to make things right for her…
…Rescheduling…
There was a division made. More often than not this division would start off subconsciously… but it didn’t take long before my conscious self would catch up and realize what I was doing. The division I speak of had everything to do with time.
You see at some point I had decided, (and I’m still fairly convinced this conclusion is sound), that the easiest way to take care of someone is to dedicate as much time to them as possible. It had been working for me already in the past, without a doubt. I knew how completely I took care of anyone once I started counting for them… counting hours that is. Because once I started counting that meant total dedication… that meant I had to think about them every hour of the day. It was… a reminder I guess, and an effective one. Anyways, long story short I did a lot of counting my senior year… and haven’t really stopped yet. It’s been 3,412 hours since I first asked you out on your couch until now when I’m writing this if you wanted to know ha ha… but I don’t count how by hour anymore. I know you know I care J
Anyways… it wasn’t long before I ran in to an important limit to this time theory of mine. You see, it might work remarkably well when you are dedicated to just that one person… but silly stupid me, that wasn’t the situation anymore ha ha. Now I had the one I felt obligated to take care of to be loyal too… and then her, the one I wanted more than anything to make happy. As you can probably guess, all this led to more than a few problems when it came to how to make everybody happy. At first I convinced myself that finding this magic ratio of time that would make everyone happy would be easy… but yeah, not so much. Unfortunately, it seemed magic that powerful only works in Disney movies ha ha, the lucky bastards. No, this time I was gonna have to make a little magic of my own. Good thing I was always up to a challenge ha ha… cause this was definitely challenge mode.
I made it work as well as I could, in the most awkward of ways. Basically, I would either be with one girl or the other, and my entire demeanor would change depending on which one I was with. Eventually I was like two totally different people… the silent, solemn, caring one when I was with one, and the loud, energetic, fun-loving one with the other. I surprised myself sometimes with the sheer oppositeness of the two characters I was playing. I was like Jekyll and Hide and crack ha ha. But it wasn’t hard at all to tell which character I preferred to be more. Fun was what I wanted, lively and loud what I knew. It was strange for me to have to be playing that silent role at all those in between times. It just… really didn’t fit. I think the times I saw most clearly what was wrong was when I was in transition from hanging out with one girl, to the other. It was so damned obvious that I was doing something wrong. See when I would transition from the fun girl to the silent one, I felt… upset. Not only because I was leaving a girl that I knew I should never be stupid enough to leave… but also because I knew what was waiting for me just a few halls over where I was going. It was… melancholy personified. That’s the only way I can really describe it ha ha. But then there was the reverse effect as well. When I’d be leaving that God-awful Japanese hall and headed to AP Lit, ( aka back to the fun girl), I was so happy. I’d be excited… more often than skipping ha ha (hey, skipping is totally masculine)… despite the fact I knew I was about to be tardy to class for like the billionth time. I was going somewhere I actually wanted to go… not going somewhere just because of an old promise I was trying to keep. Gah… me and my promises. I’m glad I’ve only got the good ones left ha ha.
Anyways, those “transitions” happened at least a few times a day, which I’m sure did wonders for my mental state as I kept trying to being something I wasn’t (I swear I’m only a little crazy ha ha!). Eventually I think it became that the fun times I had were more than anything just a remedy for the less-than-fun times. It was my cure… temporary in nature, but completely effective as long as I was in the same room as that girl with the amazing eyes. We were freakin crazy together ha ha… no denying it. But no matter how much cross-fire it created for everyone else, it was very much keeping me sane. Or at least close enough to pass anyways… because no doubt I had a lot of crazy in me. Still do ha ha.
Anyways… it was easy to tell that my life had become more than a little chaotic. Things were still have been shaky, still on edge… but there was something else too. I kinda liked having the Chaos around. In fact, I was ready to see much much more…
Women, hide your hearts. Hide them in deep holes and dark places. Hide them in chests, strong iron chests, and lock those chests with steel and chain. Guard them with a Fury so that no man can touch, and hold close with a fiery Passion so that no man can reach. For Men are the Enemy. We are beasts and hunters preying. With bullish methods we force ourselves into your lives to take what we call ours. Our loot. Our kill. The sobs of women is the hum by which we march. Each falling tear, another beat of the drum as we continue on our war path. Collecting soft hearts with rough, grisly hands… and we don’t handle with care. For that is our Sin, yet still our reward.
Women, be strong! Do not fear us, for aside from all our cunning and conniving we are such fools. But then again, respect the Fool’s Errand. Let us only as close as your watchful eye can see, lest we pass into you. Hold us only so close as your arms can reach, for with free roam and will, we can reek havoc unlike all Chaos itself could produce alone.
Now believe me if your will, call me overdramatic if you must. But at least consider what I say, and listen to what I say next most of all. Fear men, but NEVER fear affection. Never fear love. Be wary and cautious with every advance you make on a man, but when the time comes… when you find the one that’s proven himself not to be a hunter or a beast, gives THIS man the key to your chest. Let down your guards. Let him play with your heart if he must, toss it around a bit, and in know time at all you’ll know whether he’s the one. If not, steal back your heart, and send it back to its holding cell, protected.
This is the only advice I can give. And the march goes on… each tear a beat of the drum…
She looked unbelievably sexy with her hair down like that, singing along angrily with the radio. Just then, as clear as ever, you could see that fire she held inside her. That passion, wrought by a love of life and the pain of loss. She wasn’t just singing… she was putting soul behind those words to that hard-core break-up song. And though it thrilled me to see so much passion, it was a fire that had nothing to do with me. She was singing to him. And to earn a hate like that… he must’ve had to hurt her so bad.
That’s when I started to really think about it. How lucky I was to be in that car with her I mean, listening to her jam out to the stereo as she drove me home. Because it didn’t have to be me she picked. It needed to be someone, someone there to guide her back after all he did to her, but it didn’t need to be me. I was just first on the scene that really cared about her. Cared beyond just noticing her devilish good looks I mean ha ha :) I knew then, and I still know now that it will take time before she is mine, instead of just being not his. But I figure if she could be patient for me, the least I can do is return the favor right?
Because I think its worth the wait to see that fire aimed my way.
Until then, Chaos is free to roam another day. And run circles around my heart…
Have you ever been overwhelmed with thoughts, emotions, or ideas? I’ll just assume your human and you have I think. As they pile up, each new thought bounces radically, like an over-inflated ball. They bounce, and shake, and toss themselves to and fro with no remorse. Some are larger, some more fleeting, but all are made of the same critical compound. Creative spark as the core, wrapped in a fabric of Perspective. Often, two of these little idea spheres may collide as they venture randomly in the open void of the mind, and where as sometimes the reaction is harmless, other times unfortunate chance will smash together two very opposing ideas, and in such cases the result is catastrophic. This is largely why Ambivalence is such a dangerous state for one to be in. Powerful, conflicting thoughts. Anyways, when so many thoughts are abound, the only relief comes when the jagged corners of your mind “pop” those spheres flat, (somewhat cruelly at times), sending them falling down into the Abyss. Down and down they go, you see, nothing but carcasses of their former selves; their tragic remains having become nothing more than just the Fabric, with none of the Fury. Now you’ll have to allow me to clear up a small point here. When most people are confronted with the word Abyss, they assume said chasm is endless. Bottomless. Or something to the like. Although this Abyss of which I speak IS very deep, it is, as has been decided, by all means finite. Herein lays the problem. How long can all these dead thoughts fall before that Abyss begins to fill I ponder to myself? I would suggest it takes much less long then is safe. Because, as it turns out, MY own mind is reaching a full point rapidly, and yet the thoughts continue to flow faster than ever. Fury and all. Dangerous force and rapid motion, all overheating my brain, fueled by a conflict that, as Fate would have it, is between Irony and Reality…
…
What to do, what to do? I’ve racked my mind a thousand times with that question the past two weeks. Ha ha, and like I ever expected an answer. I can never answer my own questions. A personal curse it would seem. But this time I have no one to turn to for advice. Because this time EVERYONE, (all the worthy ones at least), seems to be involved. Too involved. And it’s left me lost. Irony is all I’ve ever known, and my promises to her run deep. I don’t know if she could make it if I left. I don’t even know if I have strength enough that she’ll make it with me there. It may very well be a lost cause, but I owe it… I owe it to lost causes everywhere to give her the best chance I can. And I want to give her the chance, but it’s… by no means easy. It shouldn’t be I guess though. Especially for a self-proclaimed Guardian, one who puts all others before me. That burden I have taken on myself. Still, others have begun to suffer in this, besides me. Others that can’t be ignored. Who are too important to be ignored. I speak of Chaos and Reality chiefly. What I thought I might be to either of them, I don't know now. What I would like to be, I can’t. In truth, Can’t seems to be the call word that permeates all thoughts of affection these days. And I don’t mind that it hurts me. I’m used to it. But to see it hurting them… is unbearable. And thus the Thoughts I spoke of, endless, Furious, and vast in number travel through my mind, filling it rapidly as I try to undo what I’ve done. To fix another grand mistake. Yet for all my struggles, no solution. Never my own solution. So, please, if you would… help me with this one. I’m only close to desperate ha ha… Forever yours, Perspective
Quote for the Day: “Because that is what it’s about, right? Preservation of life? Of life worth living, and love worth dying for?...”
She wouldn’t believe me if I said that, just like her, when she’s not paying attention… I stare. Then I turn away, in shame.
I’ve spent the better part of my life very much more concerned with helping others then I have ever been concerned for myself. As far as self-worth goes… well, I have none. No matter what accomplishments I make, what triumphs, what aspirations filled… I will never be worth more then any other person. Never. I would die for a stranger. I would put myself below the lowest scum of the Earth, because rightfully I deserve nothing more. And now I’ve done everything to prove that. I’ll explain…
I couldn’t do it any more… be “all things to all people”. I had for so long – so long - and slowly the mask of stone I wore to convince myself, but chiefly everyone else, that I could handle it was wearing away. Exposure… exposure of my own frailty was nearing. Something new needed to happen. So I drastically reduced the number of people I tried to help. I went from everyone… to only the worthy causes. The strong-willed and hopeful. She was among the best of these. And if not for timing, who knows? Maybe I would’ve been able to make her happy like I wanted too. Just maybe. But so much for the sugar-cube empire, right? Because no matter what I choose, I always choose wrong. And among choices I regret… this one is paramount. This one cut deep, and no matter how much I wish it, the cuts weren’t on me.
I don’t know how I thought it would work. Maybe I just avoided really thinking that far ahead at all. But I did know what I was doing. I was making her happy. Letting her like me. I was trying to let her see what I saw… in her. I’m still not sure if I've ever managed to do any of that. But what I am sure of is that this girl is one of the most likable strong-minded girls I’ve ever met. She understands the value of being a child inside, like me. She has everything going for her, save some confidence issues, but refuses to see that sometimes. She is remarkably entertaining, and more then a little cute. I want to like her – who wouldn’t? – but I also knew and know now well, (with time this became increasingly clear), that despite all my wanting I have another girl who has stolen my heart some time ago, and is holding it very selfishly. A relationship I thought wouldn’t work with her was and is trucking along in dangerous seas. But that much I can’t regret.
This is the part that really kills me. Almost funny… yet the word *I* would use is actually Ironic. (If you’ve ever talked with me long enough you’ll know that I happen to be very close with Irony, my first and most undesired mistress). The irony is, I’m almost certain that I could be happier with this girl, and I’m completely certain that a relationship with her would be a much less naturally troubled one. For a big starters, my parents don’t hate her. In fact, I’m fairly sure the opposite is true because of all the praise I’ve said about her at home. But you see I carry on uselessly now because despite whatever truths I tell this girl now, my words will fall on deaf ears.
I've broken her trust I think, and THAT is something unfixable, even to a wanna-be ‘repairman of character’ like myself. But mostly, I worry about… what if I break her heart?
So to cut myself short before I let you all see TOO MUCH how frail and horrid I am, I would like to make a general apology to anyone I have ever tried to help and failed. To anyone I have ever tried to help, and in reality hurt. And now, of course, most especially to her, a friend I should liked to keep forvever.
If I could, I’d let her know that she always makes me happy. If I could, I’d let her know although I may have never reached the truth as fast as I should have, I never lied to her, especially about her character. She is SO strong. If I could, I would fix it… but we’ve all seen how my fixes turn out. But I can’t, and so once again I’m left in bed with Irony… and now this time I may end up short one very sweet girl in my life. Unfortunate, and entirely my fault. Oh well. Till next time, pardon me…
In our American way it is a custom that a child is taken out boating before the age of five, and many times afterwards. My father, a lover of the unique atmosphere the sea provides, and having spent much time upon the entire range of boats, (including crab fishing in Alaska), stayed very true to this doctrine. In the summer last my father decided he and I needed adventure. I gave the typical response of a teenage boy and asked if we were going “to clean out the gutters,” or some other horrific task he would deem adventurous. He ignored my sarcastic remark, and before nightfall we were prepared to leave on a three day trip to Neah Bay; by boat.
Although you may have been boating any number of times, you never really adjust to the rude awakening at 2:00 AM, which makes you seriously consider using powerful sedatives on those who did the waking. As I tried to convince myself that three days was only 72 hours away, and at that point sanity would return to my life, I forced myself out of the twin sized bed, and unconsciously followed the smell of hot cocoa.
Instead of gold or some other rare or valuable substance at the of the scent trail, I found my father, strangely awake for the hour, and very excited. As I was about to pass this alert state off as an old sailor habit, I noticed the half empty pot of Folgers coffee. I thought to myself “cheater,” and prepared myself to leave.
Now, as in any good boating trip, as soon as we left we realized we had forgotten something, although I can’t remember what it was. Since getting the boat out of the driveway was so tedious the first time, I was forced to run back for the elusive item. From that point until the boats inception into the water went smoothly.
To be truthful I will have to admit to my audience that for the sake of saving paper I have condensed this recollection to a fraction of its former horror, leaving out incidents included, but not limited to: 30 foot waves. The mysterious wall in the middle of the ocean. The encounter with the Coast Guard, (with M-16’s included) … and a great deal of cursing.
The only ordeal I am going to include started out innocently enough with a flock of birds. Less than one day’s journey from home my father and I realized that my mother had over-packed, as usual, and so we had plenty of our Safeway Brand wheat bread to share with the seagulls. Apparently the birds either did not notice, or purposely ignored, the bread we tossed into the sea.
Of course my father, always wishing to play the investigator, traveled closer. A horrible mistake. Now, whether or not the birds knew of the obstruction hidden in the oceans depths, or what exactly the obstruction was, remains a secret to me. The only fact that I can give you is that whatever it was, it had the structural stability to beat our new propeller to a pulp. And so here we were, stranded, and better yet, very near a ferry lane. I knew as soon as my father attempted to lean over the boat side and somehow manage to remove the busted prop from the engine that I would have to do this myself. As I fiddled desperately with the useless piece I began to regret my “courageous” decision to take on the hard parts. Hanging upside-down so that the blood rushed to my head, I was informed that a ferry had just passed by. Obviously my dad had not yet realized that for the past ten seconds my head had been completely submerged by the wake of the large ship. When I came up and heard what he was saying I replied “No kidding.” I had decided the ferry was much too close for comfort.
