Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Movin’ to the Country, Gonna Drink a Lotta..

Lone Star, since they wouldn’t let me into the peach store to buy the peach cider.


I regret that I have yet to make mention of the remaining eight and, eventually, ten additional compatriots with whom I had the pleasure of making such a fruitful journey. It is not that they were loathsome, or even devoid of personality. Nary a claim could be made toward such ends. It is merely that their shared individuality cannot be brought to its proper justice through the means of a few words or the documentation of a pithy incident here or there.

What is worthy of an investment of such words, however, is their shared sense of openness, mutual respect, and ease of having the most enjoyable of times, regardless of the circumstances of the situation or availability of resources. For an analogy that I may only pray you understand: they are the MacGyvers of fun. Unfortunately, this image may speak otherwise; let it not go unsaid that they also possess a broad range of emotions, amongst which is an almost Robotic sense of nothingness:


Clearly he is awed by the historical nature of the Heritage Center (and bovine presence) behind him. Veiled sarcasm aside, There is little else I can use to efficiently describe this fine land and the people and my experiences therein but open…

Open in spirit, in expanse, in mind, in geographical diversity, after 1 AM but, unfortunately, only until 2AM. Open in its range of experiences, its depths of self-pride, its independence, and, perhaps most importantly, its unintentional sense of Darwinian self-responsibility. If you get hurt, you probably did something to deserve it.

Think of one of the moments that only you, yourself, can describe. Pause, reflect, or perform whatever rituals you must to re-instill that sense of solidarity and awed solidarity without the chill of truly feeling separated from your physically and social surroundings. Next, imagine those fleeting moments of mutual understanding, where you and another share the comprehension of equitable emotion and feeling with regards to the specifics of an event or another individuals personality—for lack of a better word, the ‘clicking’ of two souls. Lastly, combine this with the almost ironic sense of freedom that can be only known to a like-minded group of individuals drawn together for a common cause. Roll all of these emotions, along with the strongest sense of shared spirit with the truest of friends, into a spheroid and stretch it over the course of five solid rotations of the Earth upon its axis.

See? I regret to refer you to my original statement, but words are of little use here. Justice has not been properly fulfilled.

The title of this blog can often be misleading; it is not merely my location that is relevant. The irony might be lost with a title such as “How’s That Pooptoad doin’, anyways?“—to speak not of how difficult it would be to remember such a preposterously obtuse title, but needless to say—and to cease these utter ramblings—the answer is fantastic, and full. Look at how well they’ve fed me! Carnivory lives on and so shall I!

Posted by Pooptoad on 06/10 at 08:52 PM
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