What I can say that is in Arizona, I was thirty-one years old, and the things that I was choosing not to do were adding up into a whole other life I was choosing not to live.
-Adaptation by me to Steven Kolter's West of Jesus.
What is the consequence of escape? Material and interpersonal wise? I have a relative dead end job that I have been ramming my head into it's glass ceiling for the past 3 years. It's knocked me senseless and relatively unaware of my surroundings for the most part. The irony is that even if I were to work for a corporate bar or a family owned one like now, the results are exactly the same. I'd end up being a manager of some sorts, responsible for the leadership and delegation of other zombie like employees below me as I was once. Which makes me no better than they are.
As for my personal goods and immediate relations-I can always make new bonds with others. The ones that are truly meaningful to me, I know that I will always have them close to me.
Everything else is material, and can very easily be replaced.
So what is the holdup? Shack up a best friend of mine in my house? Pay off the bills in the house for the next two months, buy a laptop to pay my other immediate bills that I easily can pay online all the while doing it from some random roadstop diner in the middle of pigsknuckle Arkansas while on the way to all points east or west or north or south?
I've already delivered such speeches as per my potential plans to those closest and important to me. Consisting of finding myself and just going. They understand. The sad thing is with leaving them. If I could, I'd want to take them with me, but in reality, I know that if I did take such a journey, it would have to be one traveled by myself.
Last Friday evening, early, around 8pm, I got a visit from an old regular whom i haven't seen in almost 2 years. His name was Chris. Before he left, he was my age, and constantly wandered with a similar mask of pseudo happiness around the direct public, but you could tell that underneath the mask was a person in need of finding something that he did not have.
Two years ago he just disappeared. He went from showing up at the bar once or twice a week to nothing.
He showed up on Friday and it seemed like polar opposites. As if we were opposite mirror images of eachother. He the person that, although has been on a long journey and showed the wears of travel, seemed wiser and complacent from it, whereas I was the person that he had left years ago.
He left the valley and spent time in the seedy L.A. Underground music scene for a year and then up and packed up to Europe. Walking, hiking, hitching rides, trains, whatever...across the continent for another year and a half. Well, for 8 months at least. On that slow start to that Friday night, he and I were able to sit and talk about his travels for a good amount of time. After going through the Netherlands, Germany and the UK, he was travelling through France when he made friends with a bar patron in the middle of France. After making friends with the man and telling him of his travels, the man offered him a place to stay for dirt cheap. Turns out that this man was offering his dirt cheap abode to be nothing less than a 16th century castle in the middle of the French countryside. A whole wing of a castle to himself, with a handful of other renters living in the other wings of the fortress.
I was stoked, but when I asked him why he left, he just told me that it was time to go and move on to something new. I put him on pause for a few minutes while I helped 3 other customers, and by the time I had returned, Chris had once again disappeared.
All I know is that I am growing tired. Not tired of anything generalized for the most part, but personally. My work weeks are structured. Even my mother mentioned it as "that's the way life is dear." On our phone call today, I immediately called her out on it. " Well what if that's not the way i choose to make it work out like? What if I want to make it be different than that? Who says that it has to be that way?"
She had no response.
It's a odd feeling to have a parent, or someone that you consider to be a guiding source of life's ways to not have an answer for you. Then again, I shook off her misjudgement as that's all she's ever known from her childhood and young adult life and right through her current marriage to my father.
Depression can be a royal bitch. As if I believe in pills or therapy. Pills are just a way for my insurance rates to constantly rise and for pharmaceutical co's to get richer.
Therapy may help, for despite what my friends think, there are a plethora of events in my past that definitely affected my current psyche.
But not as much as the bitch it is to not have the self confidence to be self-assertive and do what makes you happy. It just is a big crutch now days that you can do what makes yourself happy, but you have to take into account what your actions may reflect on others, especially your family.
I cheers that a few times on Sunday for football, but strangely, I think I may have been the only one who truly meant it.
Who would think it? I remember back in the day in the living room of my man Ryan's house, that the Trizan-Ryan, Doug and I- that in all our talks and predictions, that not I were to be the one to be first to marry and start a family, but that Ryan was the first to travel and explore and marry, Doug would settle down and have the more lucrative career, and I am the one to be stuck at a impasse, not knowing where to head off to.