Climbing The Shadow

in book •  6 years ago  (edited)

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2006
The Army Of The Wolf

I was 19 or so. We had driven to yellow springs Ohio to take a journey to the other side. The early spring rain froze to the branches petrifying the buds and glazing the sidewalks and cars with a thick layer of ice.

Our first instinct was that of fear, huddled near a stairway to a basement to escape the rain. It was night time. We ran to a parking lot, where, after breaking off the nearly half-inch thick layer of ice, we were finally were safe inthe muffled, dimly lit, cabin of the car, protecting us from the piercing enchantment of the forest. A open recording studio, and all the ceiling tiles were masterpieces, from the many generations of weirdos that once stopped there, making their claim on the ceiling of eternity. The key was in the ignition and we were, certain, that the world was going to end.

And then I remembered something someone told me once. Dogs are real, and they will kill you. So we went back inside.

We had been contacted by an intergalactic space signal, to be drafted into the Army of the Wolf. Top Dog. Mr. Superior. Beyond even the Army of the Art, United States, World or Galactic government. This is the government of the Universe, they created the army.

I had already been shipped out to Yellow Springs for initial interviews, once from Costa Rica they had to switch my flight moments before I was due in another city. I shit you not, I went to ys Ohio, over 9 times in one year.

I wrote my name in the intergalactic campus, on a shed, with two cans of paint and an audience of 5 deer.

We created a pact to, somehow, get back to each other just before it was too late. And ever since then I have been practicing for this moment. Harmony park, a few years later: I went to get a gyro just to see how fast I could get back before the rain hit. And even though I didn’t get a kiss, I did get to send a message to space.

So After yellow springs, I went back to my 17th floor dorm room in downtown Chicago, dropped of out of school, and thought, 'I should get a tattoo of a wolf, and bike back to Minneapolis from Chicago.

I didn't do it, but I did start my training to be a willow tree.

And now, a few years later, my galactic beeper from the Army of the Wolf has been activated. So with my status in the Army of the Art, my allegiance to the Federation of Coffee and a point of contact in each major city I begin my mission.

This is, the army of the wolf.

November 8 - December 16th 2009
Inter-coastal waterway and Grand Bahama
Where our journey begins... sort of...

2009
We departed just north of Bath Maine by bike, finishing the tour in North Carolina where we met up with John, the captain of 1010. The catamaran that took us to the Bahamas. John owned a oil field somewhere up in the dakotas and had somehow found himself stranded in a Marina somewhere near Washington North Carolina, which incidentally later burned down unrelated to him. He was said to have once been best friends with Timothy Leary's son, spent his young adult life in California then ended up here, at the end our 1000 mile bike ride down the East Coast. We found his post looking for crew members on an online sailboat message board.

After getting the ship ready which took almost 2 months. We dropped down the inter coastal water way, snowballing a squad of ships then mooring together each night. Among us was Neil from Maine as well as another ship from Quebec that only spoke french. I hopped off the boat for a week or so. Greyhound it to Saint Petersburg to infiltrate the shark den.

It went like this.
We were boating down the inter coastal water way.
I hopped off the boat while it traveled south.
slept over a few nights with a cloudy shark, did a piece with one dollar cans, dated it 2012 even though it was 2009, then climbed onto a roof on the peninsula on the foot of the shrine of capitalism, only to be told I couldn't leave and saved by a ride from a Craigslist junkie who, also sold me my first ukulele.

I slept in a gazebo, snuck in to the school computer lab. then hitched a ride from a dude on Craigslist for 60 bucks.

back to 260 miles south east of where I left the boat named 1010, the boat we were traveling on.

When I got back to the grocery store and saw her I almost started crying.

Do you do things like that that often? Yes.

Then booked it back to the boat to wait with Cloud and the Crew for good weather to cross the ocean from the bay north of Ft. Lauderdale, FL.Leaving to cross with the three ships to Grand Bahama took a few days. Once arriving we docked in town to visit customs then moored the boats together in a small canal near a friend’s house where we could take showers.

It was a climactic ending as we almost crashed into the cement wall of the canal midday when a gust began to drag the cement block moor under the water towards the wall. Luckily acting quickly we cut the ropes and got the engines running before it was too late. John had already started drinking heavily again by this point and we did not think it safe to continue on his ship. We hopped from 1010 to the Quebecuas boat then after arriving in Nassau to a broken down hotel and brothel which we stayed in for one week.

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At this time, neither I nor cloud had a phone. This wasn’t even a mission. Sort of a get to know you type of thing. Shoots and ladders. See how far we could roll the ball.

We helped with chores and stayed watch for while we sailed boats during the night. We met them back in florida after camping hitching a mail boat to a deserted island for 2 weeks. Just out of George Town. Then flying back on their dime, to board a ship and wait for good weather to cross from florida to Nassau, yet again attempting the multiple day sail, straight through the waves and swells of the ocean. Ginger candy. That’s all I have to say.

They were strong supporters of drinking enough water and had the cutest children you have ever met. We crossed, stayed in nassau another few days then headed down towards what we thought would eventually be Haiti. But no. After 2 nights of working on a small island national reserve north or George Town making paths in return for a free mooring, the family, rashly and impulsivity kicked us off their boat.

We radioed for a ride to the nearest airport, got lucky, spent another day sailing to where we waited in a gazebo along a runway in a jungle for a small plane to come, which we paid the pilot in cash for a ticket for Nassau where we purchased two eighty dollar tickets to Guatemala City to wait out the storm for what we had just happened.

But what had just happened?

After being poisoned then left to die. Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. I was ridden to the doctor's office on a public transportation motorboat. The trip to town took two hours. My stomach had been killing me. I needed to go home. Also the weather was about to change. All of us packed into the waiting room. Each patiently waiting their turn to see the doctor. No receptionist necessary.

When you are in the woods. You need wood. Wine is helpful. Someone to help you listen for predators, and at least two sources of edible proteins. Also, if you have the resources, hide some stuff in the ground and in the trees just for fun.

Were gonna turn this place into a camp within moments. That’s what you get you dipshits. Did you really think she was that naive. Did you really think our goals were so unattainable? All it takes are some words, ten years and few tools from the hardware store. You to condescend to us the entire time, like a drunken security guard. Your little cattle farm of mathematics. I wasn’t stuck. I stayed. I love these guys. You know.

Black and white like the good old days. Except this time we are taking it to a new level. Grey. The color of intimacy. And shit. Dog shit. Baby shit. Lizard shit and cat shit. You know what? I know what love looks like. And that’s valuable.

In these wastelands. Love is a rare commodity. True trust is something you need to work for. To die for. To stop yourself from dying for. Like Juliet sending Romeo a txt message just before he took the poison: Just wait. These muscles grow on trees. Avocado trees. These trees haven’t seen the last of me. These trees are just getting started.

Juliet? Is that you? Out of the blue and into the tomb of doom?

Yes it’s me. Me!~

I can’t get a dollar outta this damn park. I guess that’s why I’m this position. Because I can be. And she can be. And together. With the help of Salmon Man and Godly Locks, Toad boy and Witch lady, we can imagine what a real family looks like.

Does this make sense? Should we re start at the beginning?

Well, if i know anything about pot odds, it’s that, after you have invested enough, there's no turning back.

2010

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We met up north of California. Some little town. Pitched the tent in a backyard somewhere and slept the night. I think it was Eugene, OR. Reunited after the sailboat dibogel, a short stint saving up to buy a van in MN. Then we met up for a road trip down the west coast. Our goal was to meet the tree people of the redwoods. And on her birthday, we did.

With the trees towering over. We saw them, walking. They tip toed along the uneven rocks of the river like trick or treaters barefoot in the snow. In their hands was tin of honey with a golden key inside it. It was like the opening of a dam. As they walked down the side of the stream with them came an eerie sense of calm and a subcurrent of excitement for the future. Trust was in the air. Love was present. You could smell the earth in every breath.

We all spent the night in the redwood forest in the midst of some of the most ancient and sacred beings on the planet. The trees.

And just like that, it was spring.

And everything got washed away.


People are like, happiness is not the point. It's something else. You will understand when you are older. But I am like, if you were happy, would anything else matter? No amount of pain will make things better for anyone but it seams like we keep making deals with our selves, if i just cause myself a little more hardship, things will be better. NO that is a contradiction. Just remember that busting a nut is a different sort of happiness than the well thought out double kick drum of infinity.

In the November massacre of nineteen fifty five, forty-three goats were slaughtered among the preceding festivities. We ask the public, is there anything you want to know? Anything out there that strikes you as odd… Like why a blueberry picker can’t stand outside of a grocery store and smoke a cigarette? Does this happen often here in the land of the dog? Why yes, yes it does. Walk outside out of the 50 yard vicinity of a live game and you may fall victim to the system. I ask you, since when is bowling a crime. Since when does leaning on a wall warrant ANY suspicion in the least?

1512 house. 2011 - 1512 Midway St. Paul MN We were paying the bills the entire time but for some reason the bills never made it to the municipal companies. Giving us both a deficit in our name as well as the problem of having no where to live. We were in Beverly MA doing an art show when we heard the news. First trying to walk to Milwaukee from Minneapolis then hitch hike to our show in MA, we were rescued by cloud.

Drove east coast in her van to do an art show at a place called 17 COX. One night after the bar it was raining really hard, They lowered me in to a sewer drain by my hands completely submerging me into flowing drain water. The next day we got the news about the house, dropping Rob at a friends then, before everything went to shit, proceeded down the east coast once more to the last island on the FL Keys connected by road. We even picked up a hitch hiker for a few states. He ended up stealing one of my cameras.

As we drove back up through Mobile Alabama we took our time. We were on our way to New Orleans to see the stow away Armadillo make a break off a cargo ship only to finally be caught in a upside down trash can in a fire department garage. An omen of what was to come a few years later.

Literally, most of the footage as well as the camera used to film this trip was lost in a fire.
Not to over shadow the loss of who it happened to, but that is what happened. I am only writing this to further express the state of the world in which I have lived, and not to make this about me but it seams like everywhere I go eventually burns down.

Everybody is somebody/

Let’s give it up for the cast and crew. Let’s give it up for the forty miles I biked with my fingers. Let’s give it up. Maybe by the time Spring comes, we will all know who we really are. Just coming back to say, we did that on purpose. Coming back to say, if this isn't the end; I’m coming back up in this piece with some John Dillinger shit.

The city will not declare a snow emergency today though my car is buried in the wake of a plow. The city has notified me of this information. Personally. They contacted me on my internet book. They told me in person. No you do not need to move your car. As you can see. Now that you see. Where am I? Good question. As you can tell by what I am writing, I am likely in a place with a good amount of snow. I seams like maybe it's a city. Since they have plows. And he's speaking english. So likes take a wild guess and just say he's probably somewhere near Canada. Maybe not. But with the information we have, that is a good guess. Or in the MN. That would be a good guess too, because thit us the truth.

Second Question.

Words.

With.

No.

Pictures.

ARE BORING.

Sorry that wasn't a question.

2012

So with the Red State Government hot on our trail and the world crumbling around us I left for Hawaii on New Years Eve.Arriving a few hours before midnight. I slept in a van at a hostel called the Banana Bungalow and was woken up by the can collector checking the van for cans from the party. How many islands did I go to?
First to Maui
Then to Kauai
Then to Big Island
Stopping in Honolulu
Then to back Maui
Then to Cali Then Back to A Team or what we now refer to as the sandwich factory. In total I was there for like 4 months.

Kaui

Maui
Cloud and her friends on Maui. Girls, I have no idea what they are talking about. If someone can translate, it is always helpful, if not, we make it work anyway. We just a quick bus ride to the other side of the island. She pretty much only spoke spanish.

Big island
Hedonisia Hawaii Eco-Community


Just listen to these frogs. I was teaching a girl staying at the hostel how to hunt pigs. I don't know how to hunt though... They would come and eat avocado's from under the tree where my tent was during the night. There were so many pigs on the island that the State declared it open hunting season year round.

I was there alone for three weeks before I met up with cloud me after my watch was up.

While I was on watch for 3+ weeks I helped maintain the eco hostel with some of my best buds, who I had met there, Rocka Billy and another dude who wrote all the music for the Captain Underpants TV show. I learned accounting and managerial work, how to deal with zoning and building restrictions, how to re stock fuel and how to help organize peoples stuff, how to break the ice and explain the rules. How keep a safe environment while keeping it cool. We did a lot. I learned a lot.

2012 The Game - Wastelands of Lockdown -

Under the skin like a bark peeler along the bone, from the 2nd knuckle all the way down to the palm. The wound had not yet healed and it didn’t look like it was going to get the chance, luckily it was only my hand.

We were 3 locks out, on the farthest and most guarded lock in the world. Hawaii. The one island in the world that actually DOES have self driving missiles swimming around the bay.

Ya. the same island they threatened to bomb just a few months ago. Black had to hide out in the coves of Mexico. Missile launch detection. Some of you might remember that, our government, by accident, received Intel, that Hawaii was going to be hit by a missile. And that was only a few months ago.

And this was six years earlier. When all the people my age were just about finished being corralled into dead-end jobs or shipped off to other cities. At this point most the people I had known had already been admitted to some program. Some sub government lock where they confirm your whereabouts minimum twice a week. Everyone is accounted for. Mathematically trapped by monetary or physical restraints. Not me though. I was part of the Army of the Wolf and a member of The State of the Art.

Hawaii. My finger was hanging off the bone. I will never forget this moment. Laying in the tent. Two woman on the left side, another woman on the right, my hand wrapped in toilet paper oozing blood and my skin hanging off the bone. The closest hospital was over 10 hours away. Two thirds of the people I was with were from Canada, the other was my space girlfriend, Cloud, in an upper class, soft spoken, California girl.. She only ate vegetables and introduced me to Coconut Bliss Ice Cream. For that I will always be thankful.

I followed Cloud back to the states where I was supposed to join A team, but first I needed to get lost. For some reason I always need to get lost on Easter. So I biked from 275 miles from San Diego to Santa Barbara on a bike I got for $250. Stopping in LA on Easter morning to drink a glass of champagne at a bar. Alone. The night before that I slept in a Army facility just out of town.

When I met back up with Cloud in California a few days later, we attempted to put my itinerary together. That’s never been our strong suit. Me and Cloud. The communication is all wacky. There is a plan. We do make an itinerary, but never really completely understand. I guess that’s what relationships are. Hoops.

So we made some organic sprout smoothies toured the local Santa Barbara lock down town of no one gives a fuck then she made some dumb excuse and told me to meet her in a few months to bike long ways across the country. Long ways?

A few days later she called me up screaming about some crap about how I was not to come back to California

That excuse gave me was just a cop out’
She said, ‘you know it's not going to work anyway. You can't leave all your friends in Minneapolis and there's no way in hell this I can move up to MN right now...

Plus, I’m already up there.

I met up with a general in Army of the Art and and he brought me to his secret campground. I assembled my team, hit up Cloud, because we never really stay angry with each other for long, then set off to the correct island, where, apparently, the game was about to begin.

Hawaii - California -

Wisconsin

The weird part about this whole thing, is that I literally told the camera what was going to happen before it happened. If you were there, you remember that this DID actually happen. And I did DID actually say it was going to happen ON camera BEFORE it happened. How did I know? I am actually wondering. That is one hell of a coincidence. And this is where the story starts to become, even more confusing.

If you want I can fill you in on the details. But a lot of you were there. We went to Big Island on the St. Croix River for Erik Starbucks birthday extravaganza 2012.

We were just hanging out camping. The police came and started asking if they could search our tents for no reason. No mind that it was a national reserve with the specific purpose of letting people camp in it. No mind that Erik had been going to that island every year for his birthday his entire life.

So we pushed off in canoes on the river and eventually had to get picked up.

Just a question.
In the end of chapter one, chapter two begins.
Chapter three is not yet written but then again. Maybe it is. Assuming it does get written. All of this has been written already in the future. All of these thoughts and ideas.

But they still are substantial. Like a computer designed to continually pursue to next number in Pi. Determine it and log it just to say we did it. Such a thing exists.

It just keeps pumping out the next numbers for infinity until the computer eventually breaks.

Assuming the Pi computer died before the last digit of the infinite number was completely written, would that lost number exist past that point from which it had once been physically manifested?

Do we still recognize those determined things we know as something even though it is hidden to physically exist?

If we did have a computer like that, that would never break, would the weight of that computer be the weight of Pi?

Or would that number itself still be weightless?

A phone, a car, a desk, and a mattress. A freckle and a cactus.
Bars on the front and a lady as an actress
Money on the month for a faucet and some access
to the system for the masses, made only out of plastic.
and if you outlast shit, that would be fantastic.
It's got a pretty big wick but it's sorta like a crash pit.
It makes you go bat shit

Magic.

Improv Practice:

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Nice post