It's 3:06am and the past two and a half hours have encompassed a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
After arriving home late from work, taking my well deserved (and certainly needed) shower my roommate and I took our usual dishings and decided a walk was needed to clear our minds. 12:20am we set out thinking a quick couple of blocks would be good enough, but instead we decided the beach was where it was at. Slowly walking up Cook Street we talked about the worries on our minds, expressing our self criticisms as well as our let down to others' expectations. Both of us had our respective music playing, my earbuds dangled loosely over my ears playing as more of a background to our therapy and the night's own tune.
As we neared Fort Street I pulled my earbuds higher because I thought I could hear something. I asked Joe and he listened as well. We were certainly getting closer to the source: beat boxing, harmonica, two melodic female vocals and some sort of rattle tapping in rhythm. To the right we then saw the group of four walking towards us continuing on despite our presence revealed. This was the first moment I felt happy on our walk.
Just before happening upon this after midnight special in the streets of Victoria, I had just been saying how I often forget about the sounds of the living and how most people tune them out. An isolation and detachment of self from society. Since it was so late, I wanted to hear more of what you don't normally hear, and was pleased to hear this group and their music.
Smiling widely, I sat down on a bench and Joe followed suit. The group continued to play, sing and beat-box as the two girls unchained their bicycles and then the harmonizing slowed and they wound down their song, finally breaking into discussions on where each was headed. At this point Joe and I stood and j-walked across Fort and continued towards Quadra, on which we turned.
I found that the lack of chaos the day brings allowed me to really notice the buildings and the features more tastefully. The cover of night also brought a feeling of casual exploration where I was able to do what I only ever think of doing in the day time. So I sat on the steps of the church that I walk or run by solely for the purpose of sitting on the steps and knowing I have touched this point that I only ever pass by.
We continued on until we reached Beacon Hill Park. Complete darkness we enter and Joe tells me to beware the Cruisers. Still conversing and discussing what has been eating at us lately and the frustrations of it all we go deeper into the park with the vague sense of directing our path through to the ocean.
Finally we reach a point where I recognize we are getting close. A few cars pass by and finally we are on Dallas Road. Turning back towards the hill with the flagpole the trees are standing shadows with an eerie flaming backdrop of city lights reflecting off the clouds.
The next trick is finding a path that brings us directly to the ocean. Joe recognized the area we were in and the path he chose led us to a little semi-cove; he wanted to see some phosphoresense but there was none. So instead we sat on the rock face.
Being at the ocean, smelling it, hearing it, watching the waves fold on top of one another and turn to foam as they reach the shore. It all made me miss my parent's place. It made me think of fun times with friends on Ella Beach, my dog diving for rocks, my little brother throwing sticks. It made me lust for an adventure off of this island and an escape from my mundane life.
Joseph gets up to go, I follow. We trek back up the stairs, the muddy path, over the field, onto the pavement.
Our moment of peace, thought and self-reflection separated us and our excursion became independent experiences.
My "Wandering Aimlessly in the Dark" playlist offered up some songs I wanted to sing out loud, so I did.
Instead of taking Quadra we walked up Burdett. The facades of each building intrigued me and I smiled to myself.
Occasional comments were shared and we continued walking until we were once more on Cook Street. It was past 2:30am.
I had forgotten that Macs was open late and Joseph wanted a hot dog. I was grossed out by the thought of eating something that just sits, turning over a heat lamp for hours at a time, but we went in anyways, just to see if they had hot dogs.
An odd ice cream machine lured our curiosity and captured Joe. He followed the instructions but the machine experienced an error and stopped stiring the crushed up coffee crisp leaving Joe to manually stir. Since he was getting something my intestines are too lame to handle I went for the froster machine (pardon my improper terminology, I said it was a slurpee). A mix of coke, lime, and cream soda barq's.
Joseph paid, then I went to pay and realized the cashier was Budda. Some back story: I first met Budda when he worked at Macs on Douglas Street after a friend and I went in to buy some gum before heading over to our fittings at The Patch for our Grad Fashion Show and had only seen him once since. I then stated that he used to work there and we started talking.
Budda had moved to Campbell River then Nanaimo and now to this Macs. He said he thought I looked familiar and that I had changed quite a bit. He asked me what I was doing, if I finished high school and I told him I was taking Anthropology and Geography. Budda then spoke of his friend who focused her Anthropology PhD around the Yak in Nepal then suggested I study the monkeys in Nepal as they could be quite interesting: the mothers playing with their young in a temple and if any threats were made towards a monkey individual then the community of monkeys would swarm and attack the threat-maker. I then found out that Budda is from Nepal and I was happy to have run into him.
Joe finished his ice cream quite quickly and we then returned home.
I am now sitting here, nearly an hour later, with my froster slowly melting. And now, I will have to complete my group paper which is due in 5 hours.
*sigh* the life of a downtown dwelling Anth/Geog university student.
