jack kerouac, anyone?

The last entries from my journal:

5-Jan-08

I'm in a Greyhound bus, on my way to Texas to chill with Britt for a while. It's about 730 pm and I should arrive around 1 pm. Traveling like this for a long period of time reduces you to a strange, semi-conscious state. Oh well. I have my snacks and music and sketchbook. The scenery passing by is depressingly uniform. Towns are different only in the variation of chain stores and strip malls they possess. It's even more apparent at night with all their gaudy light-up signs. 21st century Americana, I guess. Some author or poet said that with the construction of freeways, it was possible to see the whole country and not really see anything at all. Sad, really.

I ache and I ache and I ache for something that I can't put into words.


6-Jan-07

7+ hour layover in St. Louis - finally left at 5 am. I can't remember if I slept on the ride to Tulsa, maybe a little, but not enough to make a difference. Oklahoma's a strange place. The weather's nice, but the landscape is absolutely desolate. It's as if someone set off a giant sadness bomb and destroyed everything's will to live.



That's about it for the journal. Greyhound ended up losing my luggage, I just got it back a few hours ago. That meant I was off my meds for about 48 hours. It was really, really scary. I would be really energetic and talkative and have random and brief fits of euphoria, followed by just as brief periods of deep sadness. I got really nauseous and even though I was hungry as hell, I couldn't eat anything. I started to get shaky towards the end, and my entire body felt like it had fallen asleep and was all pins and needles. And even though I was scared, I kept laughing for no reason. I finally got meds back into my system about 3 hours ago, and I'm starting to settle back down. But seriously. Fuck this shit. I am never, ever going to be dependent on anything like this again. I'm taking myself off of these things, and should be completely free in a couple of weeks.