anchor phone improv

pinned down on self aware island. good thing I'm not part of this program, imagine the pressure if I was! lots of kids. balloons. families. been a while since I tried to absorb much for journalistic purposes. a-social, not anti-social / forget labels

relative safety at the corner table. a little moment. remembering other little moments that I don't normally think to remember. the balloons remind me of that ride I got with the natives from long beach in one of my many hitches back from the Tofino job. the baby in the back seat, facing the DVD player screen. but he wasn't watching the DVD, he was focused on his balloon, batting it around the backseat of the car, and me deputized to play with him, a natural way of amicability as partial payback for the ride. and no strain or contrivance on my part, how rare and precious that was, to just instinctually join this kind of bond, with no burden of obligation. isn't it nice when pleasantries are pleasant? why must that pleasure be so rare for me? and the parents in the front so chill, no acknowledgement needed, just driving and listening to this strange flavor of metal i'd never heard. so I played balloon with the baby, with dilligence, batting it back to his side of the car when he managed to flail it my way. and it was so clear how he found it to be the funnest funniest game in the world. so free of that ambiguity that clouds everything. it was nice. I'll take it.

now I got this phone as a shield instead of a notebook. and it's got advantages in that it doesn't look like I'm writing as a shield from social anxiety. I could just be one of those always texting assholes. then I'd be anti-social but I'd still sort of fit in, in some sad way.