Yakushima Series

Future to the back...

I realize that this has been quite a leap in time. Doc came by in November and sent me into the future, some mix up with Marty and Biff. A quick reference to entry #1: it was, indeed, the gun and nowhere near the leaf. It is currently just after 10 pm on May 21st, 2008, and as I lay in bed I feel some deep-down, urgent need to write something. Anything. Well, what comes out, comes out. No literary works in the making tonight. Though, did I enjoy reading my previous notes just now. I like that I can make future me laugh with my words, perhaps that can translate into more future me's and, dare I say, future you's. Though, if I am the only future reader, then the improbable happens in that both you and me become one person: me. Confused?

A quick note update on one of the heroes of our previous entries. Rodeo, our heroine, is the beaming new mother of a lovely, bouncing baby boy. Although, beaming might be a stretch, since she seems to have lost the ability to vocalize her thoughts at greater than a pin's drop. Before she popped back in April, she was as rolly and polly as they get, and looked as tired as a dog. Speaking of dogs, remind me later that I have a story. Anyway, Rodeo. Poor girl. The labour must have run her ragged. She ain't the same monkey any longer. Innocence shattered. Dreams of becoming so much more erased. Life in the macaque world goes on. I wonder if our little pint-sized go-getter from entry #2 had anything to do with that. Then again, it might be hard to get a gal preggers with testicles barely bigger than his nipples.

As I write, I'm reminded that I have only 2 forest days left for this, my third season of field work. It has probably been my most productive. The winter season was tough on me, and Kana as it were. Poor kid. I don't even want to get in to that whole scenario, and since I'm the writer, I simply won't. It will be great to get back to her on Saturday, though, as I don't know how much longer I could go. That also goes for the current entry. The nice thing about my creative urges, and you can understand if your personality is also graced by a lack of determination, is that they are so quickly appeased. The line drawn where the need to create meets the point at
which the creation becomes an effort to advance is a mere stones throw away for me. Stones cast at woodland creatures will suffice. Now I must go.

Good night.

A