I feel like I just emerged from the depths of hell.
not only did I just surface from the heart of darkness. oh no. I emerged from that deep dark place covered from the knees down in some very foul-smelling mud, copious amounts of sweat, dirt, sand, and twelve kinds of bug entrails.
because no, our little biking trip wasn't on a paved road. ha! what's asphalt? no, it was through the forest. a very legitimate one.

okay, so maybe it wasn't that bad. perhaps my hyperbolic tendencies and my love that book are getting the better of me here. it was definitely rough though. it wasn't 36 kilometers, it was closer to 45. it was devastatingly hot. I ran out of water half way. it was so muddy that we had to navigate some very large (and by this I mean huge, knee deep) puddles and I fell in one (resulting in the mud coating I received). I try to look on the bright side though. maybe it was exfoliating?
our destination: the biggest topola near warsaw. what is a topola, you ask?

yeah. it's a poplar tree.
most people would wonder why I would go on such a nonsensical expedition in the first place. those who know me better would probably say "you
would refuse to bike 25 feet from your house to visit someone and bike 25 miles...through a forest...to go see a tree."
but let me defend myself! first of all, I would much rather walk anywhere than bike. I love walking, even if it takes longer. on a bike you miss all the scenery (not to mention helmet hair on the very few occasions I actually wear one). the only time I bike is when I am in canada or when I am on venice beach. but on this occasion I had a chance to hang out with some very cool people.

on our merry way we stopped at a little church. it seemed like everyone had agreed to go inside. I, for one, haven't tried to converse with god in a while, but I couldn't really not go in, so I walked in, taking down my hair as I went to cover my tattoos (I know too many religious people, mostly in my own family, who see them as heathen marks to do anything else). they all immediately took a pew and kneeled. I clasped my hands and looked at the ceiling for inspiration.
what did I have to say to god?
it wasn't so much something to say as it was some pretty simple questions. if you are really a forgiving god, can you forgive people who trust in other figures because they may not know any better? there's the whole fie the nonbelievers business, and it causes so much strife in the world. say you are the right god, the one god. do you really count simple ignorance as a sin? for some, it's not that we don't
want to believe. maybe we just don't know how, or know that we should. we don't know any better. are we to be punished for that?

in all seriousness, I wish I could have faith like some of the people in my life do. I wish I could take that leap...but I can't. I'm just not ready. and I just don't know...how.
I have concrete thoughts on many subjects in my little bubble of existence. certain things (though in this life I will never consider myself an expert on anything, because that will mean I have grown old) I think I have somewhat figured out. god, sadly, is not one of them.

as our trip progressed, I got tired. by the end of it, I really just kind of wanted to die (not really, but I definitely felt like I was about to. I still have a headache from being so dehydrated.) and when we arrived in leszno, what did we stop to get? yes, ice cream.
but it wasn't just ice cream. I got myself a double helping of lemon gelato. it was the kind where there's the little ice chunks around the actual! lemon zest, the smooth, refreshing, absolutely heavenly texture of gelato so tangible, so tangy! I inhaled it. it saw a grand total of about 30 seconds of the world. it didn't have a chance to even
think about melting.
you can judge me for this, or you can admire how easy it is to make me happy. but I have to say it. was seeing the tree worth it? eh, not really. but the gelato...absolutely.