another day. finally putting the odds & ends together. packing clothes. finishing off the bills (remind me again i need insurance to drive my car) . . . got addresses all written out and ready, phone numbers, this site sent to those i care for. . . .
a few days left and then .. . .. i'll be gone
i'm confused about life, and such that goes with it. need to get away. feeling pressure on every angle to be more - unlike me - and i suppose i am pressuring myself for that too -
to reform myself into something i can swallow.
but here i am.
reflected
as is.
beat poet travel ing look ing for inspiration seek ing self in the move ment
Wednesday, May 28, 2003
Thursday, May 22, 2003
another day ~ more time to dedicate to the thoughts.
with gram moving out into her home, and me being homeless in a few weeks - i'm not concerned much ~
i will be im sure upon my return. if i return. i am sure i will - but have made this half assed promise to heather and others that i wont come back until a novel is finished - the fucked up version of the ideal - "i'm going to write the great american..." blah blah blah - as though it is just going to happen - and we'll be all set for the rest of our literary lives - and i use "our" cause i suppose i'm just too damn scared to say "I" ~ i always have been.
I leave in two weeks. from today. excitement. confusion.
i miss sal.
i miss myself.
run run run.
discover.
experiment.
was talking to some and they compared it to kerouac, for which i smile soft, but dont feel it - i'm nothing like that - he had a need - i just have a want. . . .
i've never really been pushed too much by a need. nothing is ever inspiring enough to motivate. maybe that's where my in-accomplishments lay bed ridden - what am i yammering about.
but i'm here -
and real
and alive
packing.
clothes, ramen, rice, water, blankets, and a journal. a lot of music. enough to last 80+ days - and endless nights of driving insomnia - to and away
cradle it and beat it
enjoy the day
with gram moving out into her home, and me being homeless in a few weeks - i'm not concerned much ~
i will be im sure upon my return. if i return. i am sure i will - but have made this half assed promise to heather and others that i wont come back until a novel is finished - the fucked up version of the ideal - "i'm going to write the great american..." blah blah blah - as though it is just going to happen - and we'll be all set for the rest of our literary lives - and i use "our" cause i suppose i'm just too damn scared to say "I" ~ i always have been.
I leave in two weeks. from today. excitement. confusion.
i miss sal.
i miss myself.
run run run.
discover.
experiment.
was talking to some and they compared it to kerouac, for which i smile soft, but dont feel it - i'm nothing like that - he had a need - i just have a want. . . .
i've never really been pushed too much by a need. nothing is ever inspiring enough to motivate. maybe that's where my in-accomplishments lay bed ridden - what am i yammering about.
but i'm here -
and real
and alive
packing.
clothes, ramen, rice, water, blankets, and a journal. a lot of music. enough to last 80+ days - and endless nights of driving insomnia - to and away
cradle it and beat it
enjoy the day