I sit at my desk, on the top floor of Vine Alternative, Called KAMSC by some. The teacher standing in the front smiles enthusiastically as she animatedly explains a concept that I had mastered five years ago. My gaze slowly unfocuses, and my head droops downwards towards the table, as honolulu's sparkling lights play out their gentle dance across an unfathomably tranquil sea. My friend, Holly, digs her elbow painfully into my side. She always pays attention. "pay attention" she whispers harshly. I don't see why, but I shake my head and rub my eyes, trying to clear out some of the sand that too many late nights and early mornings bring. Abstractedly I reach down into the paper bag beside my chair and bring out a plain bagel. Still slightly warm from being baked that morning at Klein's... a bagel store just across the street... and four stories down. I begin to eat as I try to force myself to hear the teacher's inane chatter. She is still smiling, apparently enthralled by the subject of
I've wandered off from camp and am sitting around the ashes of a long-dead fire with my friends. It is late at night and we all look down at the ground or the starry sky, absolutely gorgeous when viewed so far away from the harsh lights of the city. Its fascinating, beautiful, spiritual, indescribably peaceful. Song is discussed, and the singers in the group break out into their own rendition of "Amazing Grace" and "The First Noel". The ringing tones of their voices fade into nothingness, blending beautifully with the eloquent silence that surrounds us. Lying down on the logs that surround us, I join them in the contemplation of infinity while staring up at the wonderful sky above us. So untouched by the impurity of man's habitation. There is no moon tonight, but so many stars blend their light into something that even the moon's smooth silver cannot touch for sheer magick and splendorous subtlety. We talk, God being the subject. It seems so natural, on this night, at a time like this
Off the plane... thank god. Seven and a half hours of mind numbing torture end with a few steps. Sighing as I heft my bags bouncing them into more comfortable positions. With a great sigh, I move forward down the ramp and back into michigan. Memories and dreams of italy follow me as I step back into reality. People surround me, some I know from ten days of gallavanting around europe, some remain a mystery to me still. Customs is coming up... I hope they don't check my bag... I forgot to declare my two pound bar of chocolate. Welcome to michigan, U.S.A.