Circumstantial Collision.
Fated Future.
Hazardous Happenstance.
All give sharp edge to the shovel, an upper hand to the gambler, a euphoric vision for the searcher / the lost / the addict.
One hundred and eighty two days.
And I have grown one hundred years older.
Without getting nit-picky, half of a (mutually understood) year has
Sent me spiraling, and YES, I do give it TRUE intention in keeping clung to the swimming pool’s wall.
Those 182 days have facilitated a series of ethical (both personal and cultural) disassembling that are daunting on the lightest of days / yes, yes, sure, questions.
The projections that we conjure, buy, choose, are given by friends, society, parents, for whatever and whomever are how we begin to create the illusion of knowledge in (maybe) everything.
Who do you KNOW?
What entails the knowing of someone?
Would it be asinine to say that NO one knows NO ONE?
(probably)
NO! This isn’t’ drab, its contemplation in an auto-mechanical fashion.
Digital distribution is too EZ (permission is a given)
I met Seth through a mutual friend.
I had seen him, shaken his hand at shows, spotted him at a local swimming spot, but never truly had the time, or at least taken it, to dive into anything less surface than the air quality.
Through the wild intertwists of human grape-vining I struck up a numeral conversation with him.
QUICKLY, it was made aware that the idea that bikes beat most everything in the rotating earth, sitting in the brain cake of both of us (opinions in the obvious) was a sentiment that we heavily agreed upon.
It was a bright sunny day, we peddled and passed stories back and forth of current, past, and albeit seldom, future. Vivian Park was the destination spot for the afternoon. Provo canyon. God’s finest.
I quickly observed.
That kindness became him.
I found a gentleness in Seth that I never, despite much effort, quite gathered through the years, something I envied about many of my comrades and acquaintances.
Everything quickly turned white as soon as Seth purchased a Salsa Mukluk Fat Bike.
Is it from the dynamic divine that we are granted such an experience?
To sail, float, fly upon the waves of the frosted rain?
High above the dirt clouds, the screaming hounds, all squabble of the day?
Giving the rider a landscape of freedom and mental tranquility.
GOD SAVE THE BIKER from the squeal and squelch of steel.
SIDE NOTE / question:
Is it common place to predict how one will die?
I REGRESS.
Monday night was quickly approaching.
Plans had been set.
We settled on top of the bouncing, comically sized bicycles and made sure that all lights were working and ready for a journey into the potentially life ending seasonal swell of the American Fork Canyon. I have been up that canyon too many times to count, and despite that fact, I find it alarmingly heart sputtering whilst amongst the wild at night, with a small beam of light helping you navigate through the perils of snowy pot holes and mountain lion jaws.
“{Snap, Crackle, POP}” you might hear to the east or to the west.
(pardon the Rice Krispie reference)
The only option is to continue pedaling and with a bit more gusto.
When you feel you are at a place of complete submission with one that you care for, or something you care about, there is a binding element that sinks itself deeper. Without information exchange , or even realization, there is a union that sprouts, develops, matures between those involved.
We bind ourselves to all that we claim true.
TRUE LOVE
TRUE GOD
TRUE CHURCH
And so often we (OR ATLEAST I) forget to question the electrical, the structure, MY HEAVENS THE PLUMBING!! We (just) assume it is all sound.
“Father gave me this house. It is a good house”
The supports begin to give.
The water bursts from the floorboards.
The mold spreads.
The children sicken.
Seth and I made it to the top of the canyon, we shot down Salamander Flat with bar lights, a hoot and a holler.
As we rolled up to the canyon road, just off of pine hollow I looked over.
Through the dark I could see his smile.
“WE made it” he said.
“I don’t think you can make it. You travel. You search. You don’t arrive. We will BIKE TO DEATH”
Joshua
Originally posted on Tumblr