Tuesday November 26 2013

Still from The Tree of Life.[i]

☼ ○ ▬

In a train station Ana and I sit down in a train car. On the other side we see our friends take over another train car. I have this container of pink Nickelodeon Gak and start throwing pieces of it at our friends. Elliott keeps shifting around trying to avoid getting hit by the pink Gak. The train moves and eventually Ana and I get off at the next stop. I think I'm driving a car now. We enter a neighborhood that's made up of extreme winding roads. It's nighttime now and I barely miss the sight of a dead end. I hit the brakes and we casually fall out of the car, which seemed to be some kind of motorcycle rather than a car. In front of us is a peaceful lake. We can hear the sounds of the night creatures like the chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs. Slightly lost we scan over a sign that has a detailed map of a nature walk – identifying where we are and which way we should go. As we walk up this hill we come across this falcon hiding low in the trees. It's very close, like arm's length. I have my camera and try to take a few close-up shots. I notice through the lens that it doesn't look like a falcon anymore. It looks like Ana – an exact image of Ana! Both of us are freaked out. The Ana-falcon makes funny noises and holds up a bloodied squirrel ripped in half. I snap a few shots. Out of the corner of my eye I notice an apparition. But it's just Renee, an old friend. When looking through the camera lens her face is scary – her eyes white and hollow. She warns me about this difference and questions what we're doing out here, insinuating that we should be doing something with our lives.

I explain, "We're just enjoying nature! What's wrong with that?"  

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up officially at 2:30 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Business. Chores. Cleaning.

Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Banana. Honey Green Tea.

Watching a documentary, Death by China (2012).

Basketball at The Rec Center. I gain more and more respect every game.

Back home. Concocting homemade Tilapia Pad Thai using our wok that rarely gets used. I think I'm gonna start using it more often. Ana walks in with bright eyes. Sasha has a guy friend over that's about to give her a ride somewhere. He tells me about how he cleaned out a bunch of black widows and brown recluses in his dad's garage who apparently just passed away. 


Ana and I enjoy our dinner on the foldout wood table in the dining room to the faint sounds of the 1920's radio station. Kevin just got off a China Wok shift. We invite him to eat the leftover serving.

Me: "I'm very proud of this dish. It wasn't very hard to make either."

At work Cecily's sister has made appearances. She's in town for a few weeks to help watch the girls. I told Kevin that she was substantially attractive. He was able to see that today and develop the hots for her. Earlier he texted me about it, "I told Cecily I thought her sister was really nice, she looked at me and laughed. She knows what I'm thinking, my cover is blown. I then watched her sauté my hopes and dreams, throwing them in a wok and serving them with a side of house duck sauce."

I set up the computer in the living room and attach it to the TV's for Ana and I to watch The Tree of Life (2011). We pull the couch out a little bit. Sipping on Hot Cocoa with Marshmallows. Normally we would just hole up in the bedroom and be alone. But I wanted to experiment. I scold some of our guests chatting obnoxiously in the dining room and force them up into Kevin's room.

The movie's soundtrack and cinematography was phenomenal. It inspires me to fiddle on the piano, something I haven't done in a while. Kevin systematically spills water behind me while talking to Ana about drugs ruining people's lives.

In the bedroom. Ana announces that she'll be right back. Maybe 20 minutes later she returns.

Me: "Where were you?"

She explains that she was just downstairs in the living room.

Me: "What were you doing? Writing?"

She wasn't writing or on the phone or anything. I guess she was just meditating. Her mood seems off – she looks discouraged about something. I invite her over by the computer so I can distract her with some things I researched about the film we just watched.


We settle down in the bed. I take the space against the wall and she slips under the covers next to me.

Me: "Talk to me."

Ana: "Right now?"

She seems flustered and in need of letting things out.

Me: "Yes. Tell me something you've been thinking about...deep stuff about your life. C'mon. I'm listening. Don't be afraid to tell me things."


Me: "You weren't just sitting down there meditating."

She slips off her shorts and shirt. I tickle her back with my hand in attempt to calm her nerves. Eventually, she starts to spill her thoughts about the challenges she faces at work – a certain coworker that breaks her down – the idea of moving onto a new job...

Ana: "I always get reminded about everything so I have to get rid of certain things. Taking that futon out of my room was so symbolic. I can't keep old things cause I feel like I'm too sentimental. I have to throw them out. I don't know how you keep things around. I can't do that."

Me: "Yeah I'm very sentimental about things."

Ana: "I feel like it's so pointless for me to talk to you about it because it's just me saying again I don't like my job or whatever."

She doesn't like talking about her problems over and over again. It brings her down, the rut she gets stuck in.

Ana: "I just feel like talking to people about my problems is not gonna solve anything."

Me: "But sometimes you have to let your feelings out. You can't just keep it inside. Like talking to someone is not the same as writing in your journal. Don't be hopeless."

She mentions how she doesn't want to get a job involving food because she'd have to tie her hair up and all, which gives her headaches because of how much hair she has to manage.

I joke, "Time to get a haircut. It's time to cut your hair short. It's holding you back from great things."

Ana: "I know. What?! No!"

Me: "Why don't you just be a hair model?"

Ana: "No."

Our bed conversation veers to the topic of sexuality, but more specifically our sexual behavior and how she's so careful not to intrude or make many sexual advances. I question why.

Ana: "It's just with you. Cause I really like you...a lot. And I feel like you are so much better than any of the other guys that I have ever seen. You're special. I feel like I have so much faith that you're not – I know that you're not – the average guy. That's why I'm just like I can't be mean to him."

Me: "Even more the reason! To make sexual advances towards me!"

But I understand that she's just being too careful. Our relationship is fragile in her mind. We come to a closure.

With a smile of relief she says, "Well that was a lot."

Sleep at a late unknown hour.

[i] Still from The Tree of Life (2011).

No comments: