Recently my mind has been in a fury and fit over all these beginnings and endings. Maybe I'll figure it all out on the road. I mean, I totally plan on "finding myself" out there, knowhattamean? It's going to be great when I finally "find myself" because a big siren will go off and there will be fireworks and my hands will catch on fire and I'll cry and I'll cry and I'll cry with hope and exhaltation and my parents will be there, it'll be in Wyoming I'm sure of it, they'll be there on the side of the road clapping and their hands will be on fire too and every body will be so happy; it'll be wonderful you know?
The road. The ultimate explanation. The terrible home for boys with no ambition. The excuse. The reason. I'm out there to find a whole lot more than my way home, especially when this trip is so very much about finding a home. We'll see where I end up at the end of all of this. Probably Provo.
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Probably Provo. haha
Does that mean your car 'found itself' last summer? in flames as it was, on the side of the road?
have you seen My Own Private Idaho; probably you have. this reminds me of it for whatever reason, except the "alone with you" thing has a whole different meaning in that context. everything i love somehow comes back to being on the road. otr. it rules. you'll find yourself alright, and again and again for infinity which means naturally your hands will always be perpetually aflame. "i spun around till i was dizzy; i thought i'd fall down as in a dream, clear off the precipice. oh where is the girl i love? i thought, and looked everywhere, as i had looked everywhere in the world below. and before me was the great raw bulge and bulk of my american continent; somewhere far across, gloomy, crazy new york was throwing up its cloud of dust and brown steam. there is something brown and holy about the east; and california is white like washlines and emptyheaded -- at least that's what i thought then."
...and you hop town and where is Gary Coleman? Dead, that's where.
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