talking to kevin about his beard, i lathered shaving cream on his face and asked if he was going to shave it…he said yes but not yet, and he wiped the shaving cream off. so i smeared more shaving cream on him again and asked why he plans to shave off the beard, to which he explained that he only didn’t really care for having it any longer and it only took him 2 weeks to grow it that long…then we were talking about the weather here and in the valley. cut to the next scene and I’m talking to chris, diggy, masaki(?), and stephen and we're talking about how fucked up the weather has been everywhere. i remember reminding them of the time we were at a spot in denver at the beginning of november of last year and there were snowflakes already falling. then diggy told me it is currently 24 degrees in denver (and today’s date is 8.24.14)…my jaw dropped. cut to next scene scene…in my house with masaki and kyle -who was pacing around the house while talking on the phone- and masaki and i were shooting the shit. i think talking about the weather and why it has been so fucked up; how the earth has changed and how that causes this weather. remembering thinking then that the future will just be colder and colder everywhere and eventually there won’t be summers in most places. kyle gets off the phone and tells us he’s heading out, and walks out the front door. masaki does the same. cut scene, I’m walking around a beautiful, urban college campus while talking on the phone with a girl far away about the world and how it is filled with rotting, dark, dirty matter and how all the buildings and roads and everything built on top of them eventually results in the ground caving in. after i get off the phone with my old friend, i rip an 8.5x11 canvas out of the binder I’m carrying and begin to write with black sharpie, a poem based on the context of my phone conversation, and how the world is old, crummy, cold and unbeautiful….i don’t remember how the poem goes. i was writing the poem while walking, and i saw pat in my peripheral, so i sit down on the curb next to him and finish the poem, bulletting every few lines with a kelly green paint pen. i then fold up the canvas and stick it back in the binder. thats when i realize pat is sitting on my left, sam on my right, and matt to the right of him, and sam and matt are showing us and comparing their matching budweiser tattoos, sam's on his left ankle and matt's on the front of his right ankle…and sam had another tattoo on his right ankle…i don't quite remember what it was, and then i woke up stone sober.
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