Really, what am I doing?

“When I’m on the trail…” over and over again in my head.

Feeling ashamed of my ability to even attempt this excursion.

“There’s a lot about Douglas Adams’ life you’d like to hear. I wish we were listening together.” I hear this line echo a dozen times as I compose a text to you.

“I don’t want to forget what people smell like but I can only remember when I smell their scent.”

“when will I be on this trail?” my words in my head again

“Don’t be gross.”
“Simple fingers to swingers are zingers.”
“Great, that was gross.”

Close in memory I think I can smell hair, and hear you.
I hope I’ll never forget the sounds you make
“not yet” only a whisper

What about being alone makes me feel like I’m getting work done?

Dog science: (I wrote this while I was alone, but it happened)
A spaniel investigating a bouncing beam of light in the carpet finds that the source is a hanging prism. Her lopped ears twitch and she scrambles up to the windowsill huffing and snuffing. Incensed by the knowledge that an innocuous dongle could produce a formless, indifferent presence that seems to come and go, she bites it but does not seem to like the taste.

Seriously what am I doing? I’m trying to remember what it was I wanted, or if I was just trying to get away. I wanted to play music and write and feel like a human again.

We’re getting at it here. “What about being alone makes me feel like I’m getting work done?” I’ll just answer for myself. I’m anxious around people. It’s hard to admit, I often think people won’t believe me when I say so. They usually do. A friend mentioned that they started taking anti-depressants regularly for anxiety. Turns out drugs work sometimes. I’m thinking it might be time to try them, because I promised my mom I would be OK, but I’m not.

Here’s a synopsis:
I took off with the intention of running out of money. To have fun, to not die, to see the country. A simple experiment. Quintessential. I shot thousands of photographs and learned a little about landscape photography. I got quicker with the camera, too. I had intended to stay sober the entire time, but that didn’t really work out. I also got a speeding ticket as I crossed into Utah, which leads me to believe you should pay closer attention to what state you are actually in. While moving very fast Utah looks a lot like Nevada, and still it goes on forever. I found a new way to position the driver’s seat that makes driving more bearable, even comforting thanks to a feet-out slouch. Cruise control is essential to this method. I can cultivate and maintain some level of peace when I’m alone in the car. It makes me wonder if coming home is necessary to live a good life. Or have I just become more selfish? Or has some manifested condition pushed me away from the people I love in ways that I do not understand? These things are possible.

Why is he talking like that? What is he even talking about? Are these expressions worth reading? Was this trip worth taking?

It was worth it. It was one of the coolest things I have ever done in my entire life and I will never ever forget it no matter how many bottles of whiskey I drink. Still, I just flexed my privilege in a way that I am remotely disgusted by, and still I quit a perfectly good job to do this. Now I’m not just depressed, I’m also kinda broke. Seems like a bad deal. We’ll see how it pans out, but I’m sure it will get worse before it gets better.

Heres the rub on this whole morose blurb:
There are only a few pictures here, and I think they’re the wrong pictures. Same goes for the words, these are not the right words for this. In fact I have had trouble saying what I mean to say for most of my life, so that shouldn’t surprise me anymore. Somehow it seems fitting that what I’m showing and telling people about this journey is not representative of what it was to me. Digital was fun and practical, but I have yet to develop nearly a dozen rolls of film, and I think those will be much more interesting. If you’re really excited to see the film work I’m sorry to say I won’t be able to deliver for a while. In the meantime try to imagine abstract color blobs that rotate and spew golden light while I look for a job and think about stuff more.

If you get a chance, go a little ways out of town tonight and look up. That was my favorite part about being so far away from people. The clearest nights and the plaster dust stars and that dim blue orange gash. Really go far enough out that you can see the milky way, it is a gentle reminder. What it reminds you of is difficult to say, but it’s so important, don’t forget.