Looking at the P.O. Box with scratches I felt very strange thinking of her putting her key into that very lucky numbered address. I had been coming to Hawaii for a number of years and had I known she lived that close to where I had been staying I don't know whether I would have tried to contact her or not.
Sitting on Joe's patio I could practically see the street she had lived on. It was right near the Community Center and Holy Ghost Church. They had changed all the numbers on her streets around that area just off the already very fragmented Lower Kula Road but I am sure it was basically the same.
I had wanted to talk to her for over two years now about a comment I had made on a video that used her image as well as mine. It was an arrogant declaration for dramatic effect and since the videographer decided to cut in her image I felt it gave the impression I was talking about her.
I complained about it because the thought that my stupid remark might be taken as an insult festered in me for a year. When I told the director I wanted to contact her about the video he said I just wanted to see her for other reasons not the question of copyrights or misunderstood content.
Posting on the Internet has opened my eyes to whys and what-fors of blogging. I have come to believe it maybe the most irresponsible, useless, self-center and dangerous thing one can do. With it, like the past, I must just let it be.