I walked away from the show, left my cards on the table, money on the bar, and stepped out into the day unsure of where I was heading, but following nonetheless.
I’ve shied away from writing,out of a sense of purity or a sense of confusion, I don’t know. Regardless, I haven’t been driven to write or share where or what I’ve been doing. I’ve traveled another 9000 miles since my last post and at the moment I’m back in Austin, Texas staying with a dear friend. I went on the road in search of clarity, and at times was greeted with firm confusion, ‘confusion’s king, of you and me’ as an old song of mine said.
At the risk of sounding cliche, I came to the road, as I did almost four years ago now, in search of healing, spiritual, physical, mental. And at times, trying to sound like some tightly knit individual gliding through the world has been an exercise in acting. I’m a bad actor, it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth.
I’ve been reduced to my knees, brought to edge, and rested in defeat more times than once. But, the thing is, these times of desperation are moments to forge the metal of your core, to find resolve buried in dazed eyes of exhaustion, a marching foot you didn’t know you had.
I’m not interested in saving face, I’m still here, and I’m still marching, Somewhere.
Jul 30th, Appalachian Trail. 26th birthday.