skysurfer.media

2004Aug16
4:am Don’s Donuts
Two hours sleep in my car –
Run out by Arcata police…. Two more hours in Manila – this time the Sheriff. Too much driving (gypsy cab call)…. Entropy. An hour and a half until the pool opens (hot tub and shower) – another hour and a half until the coffeehouse opens and yet one more hour until I talk to Ben. I hope he comes through, but who knows. Opinions, choices – reality. Renee thinks I should check myself in somewhere and everyone else I think would prefer that I leave (with no concern as to where I might go). Love, life, all of God’s beauty seems less important than food, shelter, and friends. Suicide is somewhat distant from my thoughts this morning as I’ve an appointment to get my tooth pulled a week from today…. At least there isn’t a warrant out for my arrest. Here in the homeless capital of Humboldt it turns out it’s a crime to sleep in your car. And now I’ve just learned I’m only allowed one refill of coffee here. Paying, yes. Customer, no – just a source of money. Welcome to Humboldt (if you have resources to contribute), but don’t take anything! I don’t know what to do. Twelve steps? Rehabilitation? I think not. Not that killing myself is any better, but compromising my pride/dignity/etc….? It all seems like giving up. Why can’t I just take pictures, grow a garden, and travel? Why doesn’t Leticia want me? Will she? Ever? It’s like death is the only way I’ll be with her again, that close. I have to find some other way to live if I can’t live without her. (scratch that – I don’t want to live without Leticia)…. And yet I still don’t feel good enough. There is no way I can be without her. I meant to write ‘I cannot be with her without the support of others’, but my subconscious bleeds through – tiredness. Delirium? No, true desire…. And no way of contacting her. How could God have intended just a glimpse of perfection? I would be dead now without her – instead, I’m suicidal. And why would she want me? I have no money, no friends; hell, I’m not Catholic. Still, I will love her forever. Now for making myself happy – that’s what she wants for me. But to make myself happy when I can’t even write her a letter seems impossible. Soon, my prime desire to love her will overwhelm all else…. I pray that no one will get in the way. I cannot let anyone come between us. No closure, but none wanted. Yesterday didn’t tell me anything. Today I will be telling. Lord have mercy on those who would deprive me. They don’t know what benefit the world would find in us. They don’t see the value of us. The truth is –

Well, it turns out I have no legal rights pertaining to the car. I am at the mercy of the public and all the people who would be friendly, but have never earned my trust. As often as I’ve been betrayed, I’m not sure what trust I’m capable of. And so my day begins – at the forefront is my desire to destroy Kate – legally. I’m told I’m a cultural terrorist, something I could get locked up for these days. I just know if I’m going to leave Humboldt it will be only after setting an example. I am a teacher, showing and healing, with no other choice but to walk away defeated (which, of course, is not an option). Fight or flight – and I’ve no choice but to ask for the cooperation of others. There is no individuality apart from community. It’s karma actualized. I wonder what will come my way because of this, but I have to move ahead selflessly. I pity Kate. I don’t hate her, but she has to be stopped. The victimization of the innocent is only as destructive as the cooperation of community is irresponsible.

2004Aug15
I did almost burn my writings many times, but this morning I sit to write even more. As a personal ritual I know I can’t imagine a life without words. Poetry might flatter the ears of unsuspecting listeners but no one is interested in the flow of consciousness. So far I’ve shared only little segments – droplets flung from some waterfall or rapid part of my life and in my slow times, my ruts, an occasional bubble or gem floats to the surface. Today I feel committed. In front of me this day I’ll find some resolve, I hope, with Katie, Ben, my parents, maybe more. It’s the 15th and I’m nearly broke. Negative feelings ensue a particular self-defeating logic that guarantees only a chanced at happiness, but I am with my journal for now and I find solace in this exercise. Everyone with opinions, but no one questions me. My lifestyle raises many questions – I’m capricious and unstable on the surface (innately unpredictable), but absolutely unchangeable in some way no one is able to discern. I’m like a bad penny, priceless for it’s own reasons. I write, but nobody wants to listen. I have a lot to offer. My mind is such a powerful tool. I’ve used it to create and destroy, but I needn’t be concentrated on myself. There’s just no one else here. It’s a difficult wish, that someone might want a glimpse of my mental churnings. Only a mate would be interested and, of course, that’s why I’m writing.

This string of pearls became unclasped with Leticia, and I slid down one by one to feel the wholeness. What started with Dallas, ended with Texas – so many years and so many women emotionally manifested. So here I am today with no one left (none wanted but for Leticia) and I have the sovereignty I desired. The power of this day is that I have no vision of tomorrow. The word of the day is ‘telling’.

I want to kill myself. I have for a long time, although I am just now aware of it. My identity is subtly self-destructive, justified by all the social ills around me. It’s too late to be what I wanted – valuable to mankind. There is no recovering from my mistakes. I was let down – dropped – then stepped on and I cannot settle for some kind of incomplete life under the guise of humility. The truth is, my greatest gift has always been to remove myself from whoever I care about. Leticia has not returned and there is no other for me. I guess she was never meant for me, either. I write because no one wants to listen to me. No one wants to spend time with me (I get snubbed constantly), and people enjoy victimizing me more than giving to me. I am reminded daily that I am not wanted no matter where I go. I am who I have chosen to be – Indigo. I guess I thought this self-created being would be good enough. I never wanted to be God. I just wanted to be adequate. I am overwhelmed by my needs and others are overwhelmed by my neediness. It’s hopeless. What I’ve called my unbreakable faith is hardly more than wishful thinking. My dreams remain unmanifest. It’s apparent that fantasy is just imagination at it’s best. I am alone and so clearly not good enough even for myself. There is no support available but for that that comes with a price of self-sacrifice. I wish I could help this fucked-up world but I am not wanted and I cannot force my way through other people’s fear.