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I took a walk today. It rained for most of the day, and all of yesterday, and most of the past week, but it cleared up this evening and after an involuntary four-hour nap (my sleep schedule is still a little fucked) in the middle of the day, I was eager to get out and do something. Also, it was a good way to procrastinate my packing.
I was also really excited because it was just cold enough to make my usual summer clothing an uncomfortable choice. Coming from New England, a lot of my favorite clothing is designed for cooler temperatures. I finally got the chance to wear the blue pants I’d impulse bought in Christchurch two months ago but that it’s been too hot to wear. I also pulled on my grey jacket, incidentally also an impulse buy last October, which I hadn’t worn since Japan, in the beginning. I really like it. It’s a nice spring jacket and a good color and looks super cool. It is possibly the coolest thing I own (apart from a bow tie.) Also it has lots of pockets, and my pipe pouch fits perfectly into one of them.
I suspect that the Whiskey Cavendish I added last time is responsible for the syrupy flavor I’ve gotten twice now when I first start burning the bowl. The pouch is almost empty so I’m thinking I’ll load up with a greater ratio of that since I haven’t really had the chance to experience it yet. It didn’t burn particularly well a few months ago. I still don’t think I’m very good at actually smoking the damn thing, but it’s a practical science, and I now have good bowls more often than not.
The sunset was pretty dazzling, blinding orange right when I walked outside, and as I circled the park trying to catch different angles on it, strips of blue began to marble it. Against a midground of the Sydney skyline, it was something that I spent a good ten minutes staring at. A radio playlist (I think from December 9 of last year?) was already in progress on my iPod when I turned it on and I let it run. Something I hadn’t heard for a while, something, in fact, I hadn’t listened to in combination with a pipe, my jacket, and a cool night for months; sad Blink-182. When that ended, I switched to another radio playlist (they’ve made me really lazy about original mixes!) and kept walking. Like the previous one, it was peppered liberally with the sort of frenetic balls-to-the-wall type songs that I then realized made up an outsize portion of last summer. Why, I don’t know. But the experience of last summer was certainly all of that. Whether the miasma of that summer infliltrated the songs or vice versa or both versa, I’m not sure. I pick things apart enough that sometimes, I’m content to just let the experience lie, whole.
It made me wonder why last summer was like that, why I’ve been craving it ever since. Because it was impossibly rich, impossibly kinetic. And suddenly I felt like I’d caught the scent of some grand epiphany. Perhaps if I know the cause of my wanderlust, I can curtail it enough that I don’t feel obligated to go chasing something around the world.