Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Little King

I would gladly sit on the phone and talk you through this. I'd sit there all night, out in the hallway so my roommates can sleep. This apartment is built like a hotel, all the doors pointing inward to central hallways, nothing opens up to the outside. But I'd sit on the stained and dingy carpet and tolerate the stares of yappy dogs being taken out for late night walks, if it made you feel better.
You'd do the same for me, and have.
It hurts to know you're so far away and that you should be in bed, sleeping it off, not still up talking about tombstone faces. You should be asleep, not on the verge of quiet tears because while 1 am isn't late for me, I always know the time back home.
You sound like nothing so much as a scared child and you bring to mind pictures of a lost pup and I wanna hold on to you so nothing bad can happen and nothing else can scare you because who are you to be so afraid of death? I should be the worst thing that crosses your mind.
And I'm stunned at how these things have changed. My concern for you is less of a lovers worry, becoming something stunningly more maternal. And I think I wanna care for you, rather than about you, because it's easy, though your thoughts become increasingly more complex and dark. And I hope that's not my fault. And I know that's cutting myself too much credit. But, you're drunk and you're afraid of death and 'the storms' and of ending up alone, but you should know that that's not possible. People like you don't end up alone, not on the outside anyway.
You talked about how you feel like a dead animal. How your mouth hangs open like a roadkill carcass, teeth exposed and gums inching back into your head. Such beautifully vulgar imagery I'd like to steal and call my own. But through the darkness of your unintentioned poetry I imagine I can hear tears sliding down your summer reddened skin and I picture the two of us as we are now, sepearte hearts and lives, a love of special friendship. I picture us in your darkened room, I sit on your bed and you kneel on the floor, head resting on my knees. And your mouth may hang open like an opossum or dead coyote but I smooth back your hair and you remember where you are and what future you belong to.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

I will put pics up on facebook as soon as I can. I'm still waiting for my bed to get here (never use uhaul to ship, they suck soooo much). So far the only things on my walls are paintings my friends made me, picutres of you, and my Jim poster. Fan-tastic.

Since my place is empty and sad, I've been spending nights with 'The Jasons'. Evans and Goff, as we call them. Andy and Hamill live here too, so there are 5 of us in a 2 bedroom apartment. For those of you who may not have an idea of what that looks like, Hamill has his own room because he cheers for the Brewers. Evans lives in the living/dining/kitchen area. Andy sleeps on a mattress on the floor in the second bedroom. Jason and I bunk there too. I'm glad he has a big bed and is willing to share, but I need my own space and feel just awful that I'm intruding on thiers. So generous of them to share though.

That's pretty much it for now.

haha, sorry

Wow,
I really sucked at keeping up on that. Sorry. Denver was nice to drive through/out. Probably because everyone was high or something. (Like, it's totes legal there). Driving through the mountains was rough though, my poor little car was all loaded down and couldn't really pull up the hills. I was in the slow lane with all the semi-trucks. It was awesome. Going downhill was pretty crazy, I always felt like I was gonna fly out of control and have to use one of the emergency truck ramps. I want to see one of those being used at some point btw.

After that was desert. Lots of desert. Utah got a little scary, every time I left a town there were signs telling me that there wouldn't be any more food or petrol for the next 200 miles or so. That was kind of terrifying. I decided to take my time though, and pulled over a lot at look out stations to take pictures of canyons and Red Dead Redemption style territory.

The hotel in St. George sucked so much. It was scary and dark and had the worst decor I'd ever seen. BUT I did see my first In 'n out burger joint there, so I was reassured that I was getting close.

I didn't stop in Vegas because I would still be in Vegas.

Then I got to my new home.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Live from Denver:

or rather, from Aurora, CO.

As I type this I am sitting in my sweet hotel room by myself (of course). I got a pretty nice free upgrade from the 'lonely single traveler' room to the 'couple's suite' because they got my reservation wrong. That's right, I can make reservations at hotels when I travel, I'm an adult! (So what if my sister did it for me?) Anyway, I'm in the business nook part of the room, though I'd rather be in the freak-huge/awesome-soft CALIFORNIA KING bed.

I'm sitting here, enjoying this, listening to music, (guess who?) and all I can really think about is how much I'm going to miss everyone. Yes, I may be sipping wine out of the little styrofoam hotel cup, but I'm still on glass one so what I say can't be discounted. Yet.

I spent the last couple of days with family and familyesque people in KC/Holt, before that I was w. the kids in Springtown. Don't get me wrong, I don't miss any of those places, but I guess I never really thought about how much I liked you kids until I drove 800 miles away from you. In all truth, I am quite fond of you. That won't change.

As I sit here, about a third of the way thru my voyage, I find that I'm not afraid of leaving, of going somewhere unfamiliar and "growing up" (those of you I'm texting tonight will agrue on the grown up part, I'm sure), but I am afraid of losing touch.

Michael W said today that he was unsure of how much contact to keep with me when I'm gone. Like he'd be interrupting my new life or something.

I say it now, none of you will be interrupting a 'new life'. My friends are my life, now and always, all of you.

On a more boring note, Kansas is the worst state to drive through. Ever. I may change my mind when I hit the desert in Utah, but I like the desert. I may pull over and take it all in. And get bitten by a snake and die or something. Awesome. In which case, Cole can have my "gay" car.