journal 1998 (in progress)

Spring 1998

Of course driving down route 95, through New York and on passed New England for the first time since 1992, that being the year recounted in my road story, I couldn’t help remember that time six years ago. Mostly the trips to Virgina and Fort Belvoir, the weekend in Baltimore with Rich to meet his army buddy, Cruise and his friends. A time ago when I was someone then and no longer now of the same attitudes. A time when I was opening up to myself and the possibilities of a traveling writer’s life. And now I am more secure as to who I am but older and still—

The reality of this ride hits me, passed Alexandria. Robin, Dawn and Kyle sharing the restlessness of the ride as we are still 15 hours away from Daytona Beach. We drive— the blackness outside the road, outside the realm of headlights— the long straight lines that I try and stay within— the ennui— the need to satisfy it with food or drink (no alcohol)— the layers of sweat on the forehead and the back, the thinking empty unimportant thoughts made unsuccessful by the boredom— the lack of sleep or the little nugget of sleep we manage to grab— anyway, that’s that.