I am writing this from a six year old's princess bed. The comforter is pink with white unicorns on it. The window curtains are pink and yellow. The wallpaper is of pink, blue, and yellow mermaids. There is a purple canopy over the bed.
This is where I have been sleeping the last few weeks.
Well, last week I was in Virginia. I went to a Fourth of July party at someone's summer house on the James river. I had a lot of sex with a woman that I do not know very well. I also climbed a mountain.
But for the three weeks before that and for the next two weeks, I will be here, in the princess bed in rural Maryland.
In addition to the woman that I do not know very well, I have been emailing with an incredibly intelligent, soulful, beautiful professor that I met in Philadelphia. She is right now in Greece researching for her book on icons in the Greek Orthodox Church. We met up for drinks two weeks ago and ended up at her place. Then her couch. Then her bed. Then her bed again a week later.
She will be back on the 17th. I am incredibly excited to see her. But then I leave the east coast on the 21st.
The woman that I don't know from Virginia texted me today to tell me that that she was thinking about me while touching herself.
I received a similar text while I was with the woman in Virginia. This one from a woman that I met in Portland. She took me to a beach house near Astoria (where The Goonies was filmed, but that's not important). She tells me she misses me and melts whenever we talk.
There is also the woman from Redding, California. We haven't talked much lately. Our last conversation ended with us realizing that it would be months, at best, before we could even see each other again. And that would only be for a few days, if that.
I am also in conversation with women in Denver, Albuquerque, and Dallas. I had crepes with an actress in Venice Beach and she told me that she wanted me, but I'd forget her. We talked until I made it to Santa Cruz, but I could sense that it was she that was forgetting me.
I have been adventuring for nearly five months now.
Kansas City, Tulsa, Albuquerque, Phoenix, Sedona, the Salton Sea, Spent a month in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Santa Cruz, Redding, Eugene, Portland, Seattle, Montana, Idaho, Minneapolis, Chicago, Detroit, two weeks in Philadelphia, Charlottesville, Richmond, Roanoke, D.C., Baltimore tomorrow, Nashville and Kentucky soon.
I have slept in my car, on couches, on floors, in motels reserved for meth heads and hookers, in huge private bedrooms, in beach houses, in the beds of beautiful women.
I am on a spiritual pilgrimage but I don't really know what that means. I don't really know what I am supposed to do with my time. Church is only one day a week and only a few hours even then. And I find so little spiritual value in church that it still feels like a waste of time more often than not. I am attracted to and curious about Paganism, Witchcraft, Pantheism, Buddhism, and other things, but believe it or not all of that is hard to come by even in places like LA, and especially in mostly Trump supporting rural Maryland.
So I spend time on this princess bed and with the 6 year old princess that usually occupies it as well as her two brothers.
I spend my time listening to people. I spend my time reading. I spend too much of my time watching whatever my family-of-the-week is watching on TV. I do not write much. My brain feels too busy to write. I have too many thoughts to see any of them clearly.
I spend my time thinking about these four women that have entered into my life. For ease of clarity, I will refer to them here by the city in which they reside:
Redding, Portland, Philly, Richmond.
They all are wonderful in different ways. They all bring out different aspects of my personality in such ways that I always feel like a different person with each of them even though I am always genuine and authentic.
None of the four know of the other three. I am not sure if there is anything to know. Only one has brought up the prospect of having a relationship. The others were silent. We all know that I am leaving. That I might not be back. It's part of my allure, I think. It's also shitty.
I used to fantasize about being a writer and adventurer and having sex with all kinds of different people. And now I am doing it. I never really considered the emotional attachment that comes with each of those encounters. I never fantasized about saying goodbye over and over again.
I used to fantasize about family life too. It seems less likely now than ever. But at least right now, on this princess bed, that's what I really want.
Maybe not something conventional. I don't want a house or stability or any of those other trappings that numb us with comfort.
But I would love a partner. Someone that I didn't say goodbye to.
But that is pure and utter bullshit, isn't it?
It's all illusion. Grass is always greener and blah blah blah.
It's one of the biggest cliches of our time: I have the life that so many only dream of having, yet something inside of me just isn't right.
I need to shut the fuck up with that noise.
Nothing external will ever satisfy.
Sex is bullshit. Traveling is bullshit. Writing is bullshit. My pilgrimage, especially, is bullshit.
None of it stops the ever present gnawing at my soul. It's like I have a goddamn spiritual tapeworm. I always feel so ravenous. Nothing ever satisfies.
It often feels like I have worked through my depression, that I am feeling so much better. But it sometimes feels like no, I didn't solve it, I just outran it for a while. On days like today where I am quiet and still, it catches up.
Redding, Portland, Philly, Richmond.
These are all great places. I could live in any of them and be happy. I could see myself with each of these women. I could build a life there. We'd have friends and game nights and babies maybe. At least a dog.
Except that I can't. I don't know why, but I can't.
There is something pulling me onward.
Onwards onwards this is your path.
Right now it feels like this will never end. That I will never be at peace. Never settle down.
But I trust the river and where it takes me.
I trust that this is not the end.
I just hope I leave flowers wherever I go, and no more heartbreak than is necessary in this old, cold world.
6:18 p.m. - 2018-07-08
Recent entries:
Denver - 2018-08-23
Miss Philadelphia - 2018-07-20
- - 2018-07-17
Maryland Emptiness - 2018-07-13
This Entry Says Nothing of Importance - 2018-07-10
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