I don't really know what to say except that I feel like I have come to the end of myself.
But that isn't necessarily bad.
I don't know.
I have felt like I have come to the end of myself before. Several times this week in fact. It's like I am right now experiencing the ego death equivalent of multiple orgasm.
I die and then go immediately back to plateau, ready to die again.
Back when I was just about to leave the church and was wrestling with all the God thoughts and had roommates that I couldn't stand, I would spend as much time as possible away from my apartment. I shared a room with a constant talker. I needed to process shit alone. So I would spend all day at various bookstores and coffee shops and then probably a Denny's or something. Just to not be home.
Now I am still wrestling with all the God thoughts and am feeling much like Kerouac in the sense of "one fast move or I am gone" meaning that my life is on the precipice and if I stayed where I was I would have lost it, so I am desperate for a change, any kind of change, but find that I am still me whether I am in Colorado, Arizona, or Venice Beach. But I have to do something. Something must change. And I am staying with different families every week, so I find myself resorting back to the old way of just being out of the house for as long and often as possible.
Which means I am not writing much. And instead am walking. I drive to a place I haven't been before and then I walk around it for hours. On average, I have been walking 3-7 miles every day.
Yesterday, I walked 21.7.
My feet are now covered in blisters, my face stinging from sunburn. But still, I left where I was staying at 9 this morning. It is 11:30pm and I just got home.
And I am alone during all of this time.
Just walking through LA (which I will be here for just a few more days, my housesitting thing turned out to be a scam. I will soon be heading up north, north, north. To walk new streets alone there)
And it occasionally hits me while I am walking that I have no home, no real relationships to speak of, no idea what I am doing on the road, and definitely no contingency if things fall through.
And I don't care because it doesn't matter.
And that's when I realized I have reached the end of me.
Me as a person, as an identity, is not anything. Is not wanted by anyone. I don't even know what I am anymore. I couldn't really tell you what it is that I like or want or how I am around people.
It feels like all I am is a pile of ideas about God heavily strapped to sore feet.
Feet sentenced to walk forever.
I feel like I am becoming invisible.
I walk through LA and no one sees me.
Maybe if I walk long enough,
I will disappear for good.
11:19 p.m. - 2018-04-01
Recent entries:
Redding, Portland, Philly, Richmond - 2018-07-08
Silence - 2018-06-21
The Changing Landscape of the Highway - 2018-05-16
The Changing Landscape of the Highway - 2018-05-16
Shifting Sand - 2018-04-22
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