27 Jun 2007
I am, by the minute, dying in this city. Traffic, work, cubicles, TV, slack roomies and incomprehensible women...I have to get the fuck out of here...I was at a social event the other night, and people were having a good time, hell, I was too at first. But the longer into the night it went, the more I felt like just leaving and walking around the lake, through the woods, and back to my hammock in the trees with a book and the frogs to lull me to sleep. I no longer felt like playing the games set forth by those purveyors of socialite fashions and customs that were hosting our well-to-do event (want to dance? Yes! Every second of every day I want to dance, but only to the music in my heart…and your’s…but not now, not here, not in this celebration of union where I can only think of the union of body and earth, foot and mind, soul and Zatarain’s dirty rice mix…oh the simple pleasures of a life unbound!). So there it went, I grew bitter at those who can dance on a whim, while I tried to find the hills hidden the in bottom of several different Cabernet Sauvignon bottles (the history of the grape is in every drop—I swear I can taste the beautiful black soil it was nourished in—so why can’t the hills be in there as well?). All at once I found that it was myself that I was bitter toward, the me that would not embrace his surroundings because he did not care to be there, he only cared about being lost in the forest. I feel that the city can crush a man’s soul like mine if one is not careful enough to embrace the moments as they come, and not to dwell on any one future or past (or present?).
Oh well, soon enough I will be on the road, trimming the fat off my existence and having to rely only on myself and my humble posse. Just us, with only the road, trail, rock, water, and sky to contend with for almost a month. Hopefully, with enough luck, I can forget who I am now, who I was then, who I wanted to be in future, and just be the me that wakes up every morning, before the weight of civilization and the sound of my fucking roommate remind me that I am not at HOmE, just in my house. And that I am hungry, always hungry…
Man I hate this town...just like everyother town. In the words of Steve McQueen, "I would rather wake up in the middle of nowhere, than in any city on earth." Damn right.