Note to future lover: Can you get your face surgically engineered to look like Gimmelwald? That would be great.
Thanks.
.:.:.
There was a massive storm last night. It came and went in 20 minutes. It was asleep then BAM! And the top of the alps were no longer just covered in snow, but in lightning confetti. Future hikers were upset. Not me. Just thrilled to watch it all go by. Last night I wrote surrounded by it all, last night I had to get away from the hostel, and wrote for an hour. I guess this is one moment I will keep to myself, since there is no way of describing it to you. I mean maybe 18 wide angle lenses and a helicopter but....no. Anyways, Petra has not yet figured me out. She asked where I was last night and I said retying my book. She says "you do not like people" in a very disappointed voice. I say no. I say, I can stop writing my book. She says no. I am so many days behind for retyping.
.:.:.
Duties:
Clean tables
take chairs off
Make water bubbles
sort through all food
wipe off counters
stove-wash 10 thousand parts, then light then other part
oven -wash three parts
Wash down counters/walls and dry
Fan
unstrain dishwasher after plugging it
plug sink
clean and dry sink
Floor three steps
water plants
replace new tea towels
take chairs off tables
listen to cleaning music
check spoons/knives
kick people out sporadically
water plants. take out aluminum. and kitchen trash
and whatever else trash
and everything is hot. ow. but really fine and dandy. UNTILL....
The breaking of the glass.
This is the only job that scares me. Andrew, my Australian trainer goes out in flip flops to recycle the glass and to do this you must take a giant mallet and SMASH all the glass which is piling over everything. This is great. Except the glass goes everywhere! All over me, in Andrew's feet. And so I just back away and think-I love recycling, but do I love recycling this much? No. In fact, I think i'll spend the next 24 hours dreading the breaking of the glass. My goal? To find a new boy every day to do this job for me! I mean it is literally dangerous. Or maybe I could make myself a huge marshmallow suit and head out there with a face shield made of plastic. And scream a war cry. So now I have to weigh. Living in the most beautiful part of the world. Cutting my eyes and face and body with glass? Living in the most beautiful part of the world. Getting a work visa and paying nightly is no sweat. :)
Gimmelwald is getting real-er. As all lovers do. But not real enough. I have to admit, I woke up this morning and almost killed myself because I had left my batteries drain in my camera, after just buying new ones. I have to admit that this morning I wanted to be in Andermatt, another Swiss Playground. Guilty? Yes. My biggest fear is waking up next to my husband of 40 years and wanting another. Did that just happen? Sort of. Knowledge helps this, even though I am so used to being unsatisfied. Andermatt is not as cool as Gimmelwald. And my greed is hard to erase. Maybe that's why the mountains spit glass in my face. But I doubt it, these Mountains are good, and don't believe in punishment. They are the only thing in my life that has kept their promise.
.:.:.
So maybe I am soaking wet, and maybe I decided to hike to Sprutz waterfall into thunderstorms with a bag of carrots on my back. Perhaps I thought the flow would be better with so much rain. Maybe I never got to the waterfall and turned back because my camera and Otis Pig's book, and I can't see with raindrop glasses. I might have turned back because I forgot it doesn't always rain like in Olympia, with the misting. In the mountains, it rains like actually. And maybe, after I was dry, I saw other travelers returning with plastic bags over their heads and I might have felt like a sissy swissy. Maybe the real goal is to hike not only in 80% chance of rain, but in 100% chance. Maybe the real goal is to take chances, but what about my camera? Maybe I should go throw my camera in a waterfall? Was it ok that I turned back? Is it ok that I still feel so sleepy? I think so. Andrew says we will all play a card game tonight so I can "meet everyone" I say "yeah that sounds fun" but really I'd rather write. Last night I hid from people. When I come out of my room, they say "neat room, you live their alone?" I say "No, i live with Doby the kitchen cleaning elf" I think I'm hilarious. Apparently I need too much space. I don't understand why I can't just be happy with what I think. I want to sit in my bed and look at the window and write. This is ok by me. The other Katie wants to SAY she went to the waterfall and did all these things but doesn't really want to do them. :) Maybe.
.:.:.
Saw Sage
The Sausage in Murren is white, but not vegan.
It must be plaster because I see no pigs, only swine
(swiss pines)
The sausage in Murren is white,
it must taste like new housing
unless every cow here is really a pig
dressed up as a cow
to boost tourism
Due to the shortage of cows,
and Bud takes the shit for trying to raise them on the side of a Mountain.
They have moved north.
Maybe they have sex in the snow, which is why their intestines are white but
that doesn't make any sense
anatomically speaking
atomically speaking
after six years I start eating sausage again as to not offend my homosexual friend
who brought it over for dinner one evening.
Thought refusing might offend his sexuality.
So I ate it. I eat sausage as an ode to homosexuality. delicious.
I'd eat a saged saw if more cows would come out of the closet.
But my friend was Asian, so obviously I don't have to eat that white sausage.
Hope this doesn't rain on the gay pride parade but
all the meat there all the meat there all the meat there
looks ALIVE
Twef-strings clouds past on a boat on the lauterbrunnen valley
Twef
had big eyeballs and
worked for pauper's beer
at the bottom of the Lauterburren valley. His unwritten resume read
'cloud engineer' but he really held up
Advertisements on the side of the road in a
boat
that swam through the Lauterburrnen valley.
Attaching strings to clouds. Strings as long as the time from your
first kiss
to the 32 time buying his clothes. and brought them through the
Valley. and mountains.
These one dimensional banners saying PRINCES TEETH FOR 2/10THS
or
NOTHING FOR NOTHING FOR NOTHING FOR NOTHING
I ordered one from his red headed niece,
NOTHING IS FREE GOLD
between signature and receipt, we spake.
He started this profession because too man writers wrote
'the clouds drifted by'
secretly, he missed them.
.:.:
A man having gone through a divorce comes and sits by me
with my book and his irish coffee.
"you seem to be in the same scene as I"
Do you think he knows?
.:.:.
White-Out
All the clouds gathered in the cusps of the mountain today
then they experienced greed
and wanted to become it/her/them/they
so they surrounded
suffocated
cherished
made advances towards
made love to
and caused an entire white-out of the bernese oberland region.
But cloud remained cloud and Mountain Mountain.
I trembled as the clouds looked at my face and climbed in my pores.
Traveler 291 was upset that they couldn't see the mountain
but something tells me it enjoyed it.
immensely.
like a downy wash; it will fall out fresher in the dryer, tomorrow.
.:.:.
even the raindrops want to stay and look before they die, they turn into bubbles instead of just sinking into the clean swiss unpaved roads.
.:.:.
imagine the most beautiful thing you've ever seen
now imagine it
blooming
that's what my hike today was like.
past sprutz
into meadows and valleys
into
imagine. the most beautiful thing you've ever seen
now imagine it
blOOming
.:.:.
The man who is from Seattle and sculpts
and now talks about God outside my door
asks "do you want to write?"
I didn't understand.
I want to act. I wanted to get married. I want to listen.
I write.
.:.:.
Now I don't know. But I think God lives here.
.:.:.
You know when you meet someone famous and you feel embarrassed to look at them? That's how I felt about the Mountain today.
.:.:.
"Are you traveling alone?"
...
"Aren't you?"
at this point, it's weird to me that they think they are traveling with someone else.
like, they are mistaken. but maybe its me.
.:.:.
No comments:
Post a Comment