Aloha told in 59 pictures

The air was crisp like thin rice wafers.  The air felt most congruent to the air in San Jose or Montana.  The skies are just as bright and clear and the clouds seemed happy and unphased by deathly smog we have lurking in Los Angeles.  The clouds seemed to drift as they please here, not rushed by their older brother taking up valuable air space.  Fresh.
The green is lush.  As lush as Thailand's foliage, every which way you looked, intentionally or unintentionally, was a vast notion of green.  The color feels soothing, easy on the eyes, tranquil in the mind.  We still represented LA and Cali when we are in the Aloha State.
A side note of mine involves the consumption of as much spam as I can.  In the mainland it is a despised food for most, adjoining with the social construct of lower income level foods but on the island spam is respected and enjoyed.  I don't blame them. 

And then the mood changed.  Everything was sent, on a tiny drifty raft, shifty of its weight ratios, off into a hurricane bound for death.  This woman, lifting her brow, attaining any information to aid her personal wealth consumption and expansion, any chance to feed or better herself.  Like an alien 8-legged octopus monster, she quivers her way to cigarettes smoking a storm, liquor that makes the organs wavy and slow and sandwiches to feed her wrath.  She then flung fireballs, a double edged sword swiftly circulates my temple.  Her ways were coniving, but we decided to outsmart her: use her for her car so we can catch bulletin boards at a variety of tall apartment high rises for private owner phone numbers.  We were desperate for a place to live and we were homeless.  She was our only option.

It worked.

She took the cheese, the peddler and a mobile, 5-seater charcoal-gray Saab convertible with the keyhole by the shifter.  She looked like a seductive medusa in disguise.  Her belly bellowed a trampling sound, her hands looked like tree root veins.  Sure her car was nice, but she was pushing it too far.  I dabbled in meaningless conversation only to add some fuel to this ridiculous fire.  I played along to whatever she was saying, tuning in on one word at a time and drowning out sentences.  I nodded fakely, we sang American sex slang songs in front of her relentlessly causing no reaction to this elderly born Parisian in Honolulu for the last 10 months.  She couldn't understand our lewd and vulgar comments, her car was nice though.  

We sailed to bulletin boards, hailing phone calls at open-ended roads.  Answering machines and bossy landlords.  Death and Taxes.  She said something about fishes but I wasn't listening.  I was wondering what that plant name was called; it twisted and turned above the soil, landing any space to anchor root, billowing its large green leaves effortlessly, its arms dangling.

The search for a home was heart-aching.  She asked us to pay for gas so she kept the change for a beer we bought her; $17 or so for a 6 hour personal chauffeur that we got to bag on, not bad.  We eventually shook her off our trail. 

We felt the slower pace of life over here and we appreciated the Korean biker who changed our night.  "Let's meet here from now on, Regal Diner in McCully Plaza."  We rode in a blue PT Cruiser but our future encounters will be by bike; hopefully a 56cm A1 Sport Road Bike.  Yellow.  $140.  We thanked him and parted, enjoying an ill-tempered night, a row of giants flashing its lights, counting down.  Damn I still need to find a bike.

The lights drifted above us, a moapy slew of darkness slanted above us.  Ideas started to bloom.  Wheat posting was brought up.  Collaborations.  Things are finally becoming stable.  A hint of a lighthouse glow warning us of the jagged rocks of doom ahead.

Darkness left us and out shined a new day.  This color combination enlightened my mood, I was very stimulated by the beautiful visual combination you don't see anymore.

Then we took off like thieves, down windy paths rushed by cars of all sizes.  Down single lanes criss-crossing the coast.  When you are smaller than them, they start to try to take command of the road; we became the underdogs.  We carved around roads shaded by rows of connecting trees and tall palm tree shadows.  The eastern side was beautiful, Royal Grove Hotel looked like a regal place to stay.

speechless.

In search of something.  There was an aqua tint.

We carved the concrete jungle enjoying the road to ourselves late at night.  We rode with anticipation.

A perfect example of an anti-culture utilizing idol symbols and monopolies as form for propaganda against the man himself.  A sweet metaphor, nicely done.  Had to end the 4-day welcoming adventure with some deluxe spam and hawaiian spam and a 7-11 bill to be around $13.  Design ideas are blossoming and a great time for self-reflection.

Aloha Waikiki, Honolulu, Oahu, Hawaii* by RFV 

*(affection, love, peace, compassion and mercy)