Sunday, March 24, 2013

attempting the first novel...

I've started this story so many times, and because I want to tell all of the details I end up stopping myself, and not finishing.
As many of you know in August of last year I left college behind, and went on a spiritual sabbatical on the west coast; discovering so many spiritual truths through the great teachers I met as well as the amount of time I spent alone with Mother Nature. Because I was creating the experience, and so much was happening to me everyday it's difficult to re-create everything. Through this poem I am going to recapture my experience of being homeless for six months on the west coast of the United States.
Freeing. It was absolutely freeing the day that I said goodbye to everything that I had.
The tears falling down my face when I said goodbye to my mom.
The racing thoughts of what would happen once we got out to the west coast.
Driving. Driving as fast as we can to get as far away as possible.
Stopping every few hundred miles.
Eating Adderall to stay awake. Chain smoking to pass the time on the road.
Fear. Absolutely struck with fear.
My partner in crime, she was the only thing that kept me from knowing that everything was going to be okay.
Octopus Project. Playing the same song over and over.
Driving to the beat of the drums.
Finally getting to Las Vegas three days later.
4am, sleep deprived.
Seeing Hunter S Thompson's spirit as I write about the Fear and Loathing I felt in Las Vegas.
Where do I even begin?
Driving through Utah.
Seeing my ancestors in the rocks, balling my eyes out as Mother Earth's story began to unfold for me.
Experiencing my astral body transform as my partner in crime tells her parents we have left Tennessee and are about a couple hours away from Colorado.
Deciding to be homeless.
Giving the car back in Boulder.
Sleeping at the Greyhound Bus Station.
Getting our first dose of west coast travelling kids.
Headed to San Francisco.
There are some things you just have to experience for yourself to fully understand the feeling one can get when the emotions are provoked correctly.
Running away from home is one of those things.
As I continue you to explore my emotions, understand how to comprehend/communicate clearly, the story will get better. San Francisco is where it all began. Portland is where it all ended. The ups and downs, and in between are personal; emotional really. Recapturing the moment I met my first love while slack lining in the plaza of Arcata, CA. Tripping acid in the redwood forest, completely releasing all fears and worries to the trees as I balled my eyes out. How am I to do this? How am I to write a best selling novel on such a personal experience? It can and will be done. Until then, I'm going to keep dropping hints about the trip on my blog... keep you guys intrigued, right?
Until next time,

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