I am in a very special library in Colorado Springs. One that I had forgotten until two days ago when I drove by it and immediately started to cry.
Back in the day when having the internet at home was expensive and laptops and the like even more so, I would come to this library to do my interneting.
I started Diaryland about a year before I moved to Colorado, but it was here, at this library, where I really started the discipline of writing in it.
It is here where I started the discipline of writing altogether.
I had a little routine that, looking back on it now, was created to help me cope with my then undiagnosed anxiety disorder. I would be terribly upset if I ever had to deviate from said routine.
Every Thursday, I would arrive at this library right at 10 when they opened, I would then make my way to the exact same computer where I always sat and wrote from 10-11:30.
Then I would head over to the nearby Pizza Hut buffet, where I would always sit in the third booth from the right and drink Dr. Pepper (the only place I would ever drink it).
While there, I would read the paper, comics section first, and then go to the comic book store next door.
Finally I would see a movie at the dollar theater which is also in the same shopping center.
Other days had other routines, but this was my Thursday routine. I made myself unavailable at work on Thursdays so that I could make sure that I was able to stick to this regimen.
I did this more regularly than not from 2003 to at least 2007.
But then I moved to a different part of town and soon after to Denver, where I developed different little tricks to subconsciously calm myself down.
It was here, at this actual table where I am sitting, that I described losing my virginity and having my first girlfriend. It was here that I documented the half-dozen times that we broke up and got back together (one time we broke up here in the library. Over something I had written on Diaryland in fact!)
It was here that I was the most playful and experimental with my writing. It was this great new toy that I couldn't wait to play with.
I wrote comics and short stories and poems and anything else that suited my fancy. It was maybe the first (and possibly the last) time that I really felt like an artist and not just some poor imitation of one.
It's interesting that my brain brought me back to this library and flooded me with all the memories and emotion of this place. Especially since this (possibly, hopefully) is my last Thursday in Colorado.
If the money comes in (though right now it's doubtful), I will be spending this time next week driving to my new home in Tulsa.
So it feels fitting that I will spend my last Thursday in Colorado the exact same way that I spent all of my first Thursdays in this state.
Maybe this is the closing of some sort of loop. Maybe this means some real change is coming. Maybe it means nothing at all.
10:22 a.m. - 2019-03-21
Recent entries:
You Pray to Die (But god Doesn't Answer Prayer) - 2019-08-09
Full Moon - 2019-07-16
A Ramble. - 2019-06-19
63 Days Since My Last Entry? Holy Fuck. - 2019-06-11
Hometown Tulsa - 2019-04-08
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