joyous pride

On the plane ride home from California the guy next to me asked for a salad, but the flight attendant said he'd have to wait for snack service, which wound up delayed as we were rerouted around turbulent weather. By the time the cart finally made it back to steerage they'd run out of salads, and I felt a sympathy watching my seat neighbor opt for almonds instead. The K-9s were on my mind and I felt a thread of connection in our disappointments. Then I watched him move $150k in cash and check on his Tesla all from his phone, and I thought that he might not feel the same way and that I might not be in steerage. I worried the smoke had been blown up my ass but watched it blow into the sky instead. I never heard from the surgeon so I also swelled and subsided with the barometer. Antibiotics were a welcome rain that incidentally returned my uvula to a normal size in addition to tempering the primal rage that'd been tearing me apart. I've had a lingering depression triggered by a month of pain and reinforced by weed and fruity candy so I tried not to lean on the fires as an excuse to malinger. I opted for a walk at Camp Woods, where I convinced myself the forest was dense enough to block out some acceptable amount of smoke. I spotted an umbrella magnolia that a guide pointed out to us back in October and I pointed it out to Dany. I saw my old barber for a cut then went to a church reception.

Between the apocalypse and my own bodily discomfort I've been gaming more, though I still haven't finished Tears of the Kingdom. I also haven't yet finished Ulysses. I made it to the Wandering Rocks then wandered off. I'll figure out on Friday how to celebrate some other guy's adventure without sacrificing too much of my own. The sky cleared up by Saturday so we went walking around Ft. Washington before I left for the night for a cookout.

I returned to Lansdale early Sunday to catch the church stream before joining the pride walk. I write horror stories about Alex Bell then find myself living in a telecom commercial. I first went out for the walk on my own because I didn't think I knew anybody. My closest friends asked to join so I would coordinate with them by text, then I started to share an event on a community Facebook group to invite people at large. One year I met a woman who'd drive her daughter an hour both ways to participate each June, and another who would eventually organize the masquerade last month and the walk this weekend. We walked then gathered in the park where I celebrated my own personal pride. I think I've spent a majority of the freedom I've had walking and meeting neighbors and I saw that piece of myself reflected and amplified in my conceptual child. On my way out of First Friday I wished somebody a happy pride and somebody asked about the accepted pride salutation. Three of us workshopped on the spot and arrived at Joyous Pride. The theme that night was "Pride and Freedom", though it was quietly advertised and not explicit in its meaning. I wondered if it was a social experiment or an attempt to compromise, my dear old aunt etcetera having perceived the two at odds. I was two at odds, now I feel like ten pieces at evens.

I spent the latter half of Sunday in the backyard with the dogs then took them out for separate walks yesterday afternoon after the rain. I ran into a neighbor while I was out with Dany and a woman I met at pride while at Peace Valley this afternoon. I was entranced by the lake when she said hello and by the black walnut later when I fell asleep in the hammock thinking about those doing the thing, who can't know the experience of the thing.