putting politics and the world aside and remembering me...more random thoughts...

sometimes awaking from a drunken mistake can bring everything back into focus. funny how royally messing up tends to teach us so much. seems we only decide to trudge forward once our boots become heavy.

once in a lifteime snow in albuquerque...transforms this city from a desolate, brown trampled town into a far away place that just might be home. except that a "city" buried in a foot plus of snow has only served to drive home the realization that this place is not home...it never really was, and I doubt it ever really could be. suppose it has served its purpose well though. three years down here and well over a hundred days on the slopes and I finally began to find myself...problem is, that process has made me more lost than ever. been one hell of a journey though, and I couldn't have been comfortable just sticking where I had always been with what I had always known. besides, along the way I managed to meet some fascinating people that opened my eyes to a world I previously was desperate to ignore.

I've been laying awake wondering how I got here the last few nights. somehow I ended up exactly where I never imagined. I used to tell someone they were the reason, that if it weren't for them I never would have found that spark within myself. they never believed it. (why do we struggle so much when people acknowledge the positive we have done for them but have no problem accepting all their woes are our doing?) of course, once that ball got rolling downhill I could not stop it...and now, with so much I need to do, so much I need to see, so many places I need to visit...I fear the person who gave it all to me will be left behind.

people are filtering into the coffee shop now, coming in from the solitude of the snow to join the warm glow of people coming together to be alone. an interesting phenomena really...gathering in packs to not interact with each other. guess we all just need a warm body around...or a couple dozen...at least when our boots get heavy.

the girl with the horrible cowboy boots...the boy in the brown sweater, forehead crinkled...the couple sitting quietly in front of the faux-fire...the old man at the window who's hair matches the backdrop of snow and his old friend with a small cap and plain brown shoes, both sweatered and weathered, speaking as if they have been having this conversation for decades and it just never has grown tiresome...the girl on the couch having conversations with her thumbs...the kid-rock-knit-hat wearing man...the barista showcasing her chimney sweep talents...the man with dark features and thick black hair who looks as though he should be famous...the round spectacled agent skinner look-alike...the domino player looking for a game...right now I want so badly to know all their stories, what makes them tick, what frightens them, what brings them happiness, who they loved, who they failed, who loved them, who failed them, their regrets, their accomplishments, their hopes and dreams, how it is they arrived here, where else they want to be...are they also staring at the falling snow trying to forget this is albuquerque?

and all I can think is that I want the grand canyon back...despite exhausted legs tempting death...my boots were not heavy there.

I'll only let you down...