1.30.99
Hilo was my place this week, and thank you, it was wonderful. Hilo always is. I've decided that in order to live there, you must pass a contentment test to prove that you can tolerate the status quo and smile in the face of adversity. Why do I say that? Hilo is a downright depressed place. I think the current slump in the economy has blasted Hilo more than other places, yet its inhabitants defend their place in the rain as being the most fabulous place in the world. I'm tempted to agree with them.
Having grown up in a small town where everybody knew everybody else, the idea of being in a close-knit community such as Hilo has a great appeal. Really, Hilo has all the attributes that I like about Hawaii, like friendly, shirt off your back people, and rain.
I like rain. I spent the better part of Wednesday night in the rain, making wala'au with a friend, Derrick. (Oh, by the way, I did finally finish the glossary of Hawaiian words I promised.) In fact, we stayed out until 3 AM watching the surf pound, the rain fall, and the wind blow thru the ironwood trees.
What did we talk about? Everything. Well, actually, nothing. We mostly spent the time in questions and answers. As he says, "The reason I ask so many questions is I'm seeking answers to my own life." He is one who loves Hilo, having grown up there, and also having the rare experience of living on the Mainland (Seattle) and having the common sense to move back to that place he loves.
It was interesting, standing there with him beneath a concrete overhang and watching the sea. I open up to people in the most odd moments, and I certainly did with him. You see, usually, I am quiet and introspective when I think of my personal, most innermost thoughts. I tend to keep them to myself, especially when I am around those that I love. I'm guessing that it is a way of holding myself in and towing the line of the status quo. Anyway, we talked...boy did we talk, and I'm happy that we did. I found some answers to questions through his thoughts.
Well, anyway, it started to rain really hard about 2 AM, even to the point that it was difficult to converse at a normal tone of voice. I asked "Do you know classical music?" His response was "Not really." He likes it as background. Something to occupy the miles on the car radio, etc. I started to tell him about my great Rachmaninoff fantasy, which I have shared previously. I told him about Neil and I and Rach's second symphony. I told him that my greatest fantasy involved Rach, billowy curtains, rain, sea pounding below and the guy of my dreams. Well, we had a rough sea below us, it was certainly raining, and the wind was producing a nipple-blasting cold, which was starting to become uncomfortable.
Had circumstances been different, I probably would have ripped off his clothes instantly, and fucked him senseless right there, right then, but I didn't. Instead, I simply pulled him into my arms and shared his warmth for nearly an hour until the rain subsided. It was really, really nice. That feeling of trust and camaraderie. Of friendship, pure and simple. It's an element that is missing in my life at present, and I miss it.
Bad.
Having grown up in a small town where everybody knew everybody else, the idea of being in a close-knit community such as Hilo has a great appeal. Really, Hilo has all the attributes that I like about Hawaii, like friendly, shirt off your back people, and rain.
I like rain. I spent the better part of Wednesday night in the rain, making wala'au with a friend, Derrick. (Oh, by the way, I did finally finish the glossary of Hawaiian words I promised.) In fact, we stayed out until 3 AM watching the surf pound, the rain fall, and the wind blow thru the ironwood trees.
What did we talk about? Everything. Well, actually, nothing. We mostly spent the time in questions and answers. As he says, "The reason I ask so many questions is I'm seeking answers to my own life." He is one who loves Hilo, having grown up there, and also having the rare experience of living on the Mainland (Seattle) and having the common sense to move back to that place he loves.
It was interesting, standing there with him beneath a concrete overhang and watching the sea. I open up to people in the most odd moments, and I certainly did with him. You see, usually, I am quiet and introspective when I think of my personal, most innermost thoughts. I tend to keep them to myself, especially when I am around those that I love. I'm guessing that it is a way of holding myself in and towing the line of the status quo. Anyway, we talked...boy did we talk, and I'm happy that we did. I found some answers to questions through his thoughts.
Well, anyway, it started to rain really hard about 2 AM, even to the point that it was difficult to converse at a normal tone of voice. I asked "Do you know classical music?" His response was "Not really." He likes it as background. Something to occupy the miles on the car radio, etc. I started to tell him about my great Rachmaninoff fantasy, which I have shared previously. I told him about Neil and I and Rach's second symphony. I told him that my greatest fantasy involved Rach, billowy curtains, rain, sea pounding below and the guy of my dreams. Well, we had a rough sea below us, it was certainly raining, and the wind was producing a nipple-blasting cold, which was starting to become uncomfortable.
Had circumstances been different, I probably would have ripped off his clothes instantly, and fucked him senseless right there, right then, but I didn't. Instead, I simply pulled him into my arms and shared his warmth for nearly an hour until the rain subsided. It was really, really nice. That feeling of trust and camaraderie. Of friendship, pure and simple. It's an element that is missing in my life at present, and I miss it.
Bad.
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