"To the Alps!"

One of the most endearing things about the hostel is how people who were not previously gathered at the hostel, will gather out in front in awe of the latest strikingly beautiful thing.
Sometimes it is how the fog caresses the inner thighs of the valley
but last night it was the line of neon pink that strutted across the lower third of the snowcapped peaks. Suddenly everyone is out watching as if the apocalypse is about to whisper a secret that only the mountains can hear.

Everyone gathers in the name of beauty
beauty
Beauty is the shape of what's affected
eerie when it is the only option
out there
Beauty is what stands up against what doesn't want it to be there
Beauty
is the choice to stand
beauty is not always pretty
and does not always choose its battles


.:.:.

what i was talking about yesterday, backing up against the other side
I did that today!
the boys and I went to Trummelbach falls and although it ripped 11 dollars out of my pocket
it was so refreshing, reminding me of every river trip I have ever been to,
and I saw the relationship that I want, presented in rock form. That picture will take about a month to get up here, but it will.
.:.:.

A British woman tells me not to leave my stuff on the bench when I am at the river. That, the noise of the water would disguise a robber as silence. I don't think she understands, that this is Switzerland. The river is as busy as the city
it always has somewhere to go
and maybe she, in her Britishness
has confused it with the NY metro
perhaps she is confused
I don't think she understands
that trust, and freedom, are taken seriously
I don't think I understood
that trust, and freedom, are taken seriously

.:.:.

If too much of a good thing is a bad thing, then what does that say about marriage?

.:.:.

I ran to escape the hostel to my spot on top of an eyeball.

.:.:.

I did something
once and entirely
without knowing what I was doing
at all

.:.:.

His biggest secret is that he's not happy here. And i have to throw it all away, or I will become like plaster and cement, and understand him all too well.
Understanding others, is the only key to making anything ok
but there are some things that just aren't. And I'm afraid that understanding them would make them so, in some indecipherable sense.

.:.:

learning how to play flippy cups, spoons, and I already know kings. oh, and the famous name game (which I did way better than I would have thought

.:.:.

but i haven't figured out if I am good yet
and I don't want your book to end, so I don't finish it.
I played piano for 9 years and I only know two songs.
I take back everything I said about Londoners: this one can play the piano like a tulip
I only know one thing for sure: you have to loose everything you have

.:.:.

I guess, if all goes right, the mountain will still be here when I get old, that is, if I do get old, "that is, if there is gold left"-

.:.:.

3 days and its winter on top, and summer on bottom, a greener green

.:.:.

nothing is better than Peacecore Guitar playing and me dancing, along

.:.:.

her fear is that her life is just as mundane as theirs, and by joining them, it would hit her in the face

what can people do? if you can't get out of your skin, where can you go to?

.:.:.

i'm on the other side of darkness
on the other side of pain
i'm on the other side of sadness
on the other side of why for waking up
i'm on the other side in Mountain
but my back side Harry Potter turbin is behind, attached
on. off
I hope it doesn't turn all the way back around.
I could go hiking in AZ, and just cry at the top
beacuse it is not here. The place won't cry with me
because it will never know

.:.:.

i never loved myself more

.:.:.
just give me 20 minutes to mourn off every traveler
just 20 minutes to comply
please grant this rustic pleasure
so that I may
continue
only child never was my name
but grant me 20 minutes just the same.

.:.:.

today I'm beginning to see the mt again: what a gift!
I'm ok with not seeing it; as long as I'm aware that i'm not.
the past cannot be real
because stillness never falters

.:.:.

the trummelbach falls releases tons of water (and even blackened marble) from the Jungfrau, Monch, and Eiger. A friend (and reader!) wanted to know more about what "the other side" was like:

Since I was 14, I have been wanting to swoon my hands over this creation. Selfishly, I have just wanted to press my body up against it, to feel it with the most surface area of myself that I can. Just like I feel when I see how beautiful it all is, and then try to capture it with my camera, how trite. It's hard for me not to become an obsessive lover with this place, already I have been thinking "this is the last time that..." when really riding up the cable car to Murren in the rain, stopping intermittently for lighting was a first! Like I said at the beginning of my stay, I have often wondered how this side of the mountain feels, what it looks like. On my visit to Wengen,
I did see the other side. It's not exactly something I want to write about, or even explicitly explain, because it is all I can do but not to call it less beautiful. I feel those words that i just typed will send down every terror the landscapes holds and reign it down upon me. What I did see, was how loving either side of the valley was to each other. How each stands it's entire life looking at each other, and doesn't even know really what their own surfaces look like, just what they uphold, and the different weathers they have come to know exist. At the mountain, when I touch the other side, I feel as if I am being zapped with electric energy with each finger. The mountain's kinesthetic response was really just my seeping want pouring out. Has anything been more wanted? Is that enough to make something really, really special?

.:.:.

intimate

there is an intimate moment shared
in the bathroom
between two doors closed
and strangers
sitting in silence,
waiting to pee
maybe a device could be made
like a laugh track
'cept it would be a pee track
to make the bowels more safe,
but then i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
in front of lightning and Arizona skies
where every 5 seconds we clicked the camera together
but none of it was about me
i think it was about conquering some sort of lighting
i'd erase it from my memory
him, and his silly cowboy hat and us in the rain
but then i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
where I was running circles with my mouth
and he was sucking my toe
like my brother did when I was 1 and he was 10
i would dispose this memory for its possible dab into the sacrilegious but then i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
between myself and wine
where the taste was too sweet for my mind to be ransomed
i'd run it over with wisdom and respect
but i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
between myself and my regrets
and all the fun they gave me
and all the times they hissed back
i've heard them traded for complacency and mediocrity
but then i'd find myself more liar than human
and of course i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
between his fingers
and my line of giving up
my back against his meanness and
his hands around my mind
i would have rid them for any other egg yolk
to regain the moments i spent savoring this one
and lashing on the floor for miss
but i would loose a very special intimate

and no closer i would get

there was an intimate moment
between my need and her recognition
that even eyes sifting past eyes could not prevent
the warm of gushy tears
I'd run from my ability to provide any outlet
but by then i'd have missed an intimate

and no closer would I get

and by then i'd miss something intimate

and no closer would i get

:outline:

.:.:.

"that life thing, you can't get away from it can you?"
it was the 3rd time i'd seen someone in life that reminded me of Bardoff Founder
I wanted to crush all his words. and make them untrue.