Incipient Vagabond--Verily

Well hey there!  It's been a while hasn't it; I've got plenty of news to update.  I could regale with every detail, which could be appreciable because it's so different than anything you experience in most life, but it'd be way too long and boring, especially in such a dry forum as this with no color.  It's a bit awkward to write here, because I want to say everything, and this thing has a double identity as a blog and a journal; so do I write for an audience or is this merely a memory book?  When you write down memories, they tend to transform in the process; when you think about it, you can include images, and sounds, and you don't really imagine in words; but since every word has different connotations, even for the same person in different times, let along for different people, you automatically set an ideas fate with the way you say it.  Perhaps the most important thing here is that I get a record to work with in the future, and to develop my storytelling ability, so I will focus on tangible memories and keep the concepts and abstract tangents to a separate, private document.  In fact, I'm going to take all this out now and put it there, and I don't really know why I'm still typing this.  I'm very bad at being prudent, but this is good practice. 

AWOL for more than a week; lots to say, I just hope I haven't forgotten much...
I read in a book about a fella (that's my new word, just got done with Grapes of Wrath--that's what I like about education, is that along the way you pick up these little tidbits that help add flavor and color to your life.  I hope I'm as interesting as I feel.) who had done a few trips before, and he tried journaling, but his brain punished him by losing all the memories; and the next trip he took photographs, and he was again punished because the places looked nothing like what he remembered, so the one he was on in the book, he recorded nothing.  I'm going to continue to record,

Last week I was settling into the nomad lifestyle, picking up each day, doing what it demanded of me, taking what came, and settling in at night.  It's comforting to know that you can have a place to sleep no matter where you are.  I got a ride from this woman who looked completely clean-cut, but talked about how her husband had been in a maximum security prison and how visiting him was a pain in the ass, and smoked in her car from the carton of Marlboro's in the back, and then bought me a whole fuckin' chicken and big jug of water at Safeway, plus two half sandwiches and a bunch of granola bars.  I was faced with a major moral dilemma, because I didn't want to offend her, but I also felt obligated to self-respect and because I believe that in simply sharing my personal beliefs I can open up others to consideration; instead of telling them what they are doing is wrong, you simply tell them that personally you don't partake, and then they may inquire or simply be inclined to readjust their opinions of people who do those things, or who they expected you to be, or simply to think about something they'd never heard before, possibly because they'd closed themselves off to the people preaching it to them before.  Anyway, I took it all from her, because she had been so hospitable (and besides, I was famished), with graciousness and geniality.  It was so debasing, though, because I had set myself on being almost vegetarian, and I abhor bottled water, and individual-packaged items, so the whole thing was blasphemy to my own moral philosophy.

Then I got a ride from some guys in King's City (which is hardly a city and certainly not a place of kings) and they said they could get me as far as Paso Robles, but after some real good congenial conversation they proffered that I come with them camping in San Simeon, as they'd be passing back through by  PR on the way back the next day.  I was absolutely for the idea, because I was eager to have good company finally after several days of only minor, superfluous conversation.  The guys car broke down, their friends picked us up, we feasted like carnivores, we got stoned and drank and were gluttonous and went to the beach for hours and I swam in the ocean with this fella who'd just got out of the navy (Omar, my favorite one of the whole group and obviously the most alpha, though they were all on pretty equal terms, respectful of each other, they'd obviously grown up together and I was glad for the opportunity to be a part of it, if even for only two days; these were the kind of healthy and deep relationships that I find myself yearning for when I am out or looking for company or a conversation buddy online... I realize that I have no long relationships, not many people who will go far out of their way to share in my pain or to sacrifice other things to do something for me, at least not men who are peers.)  Anyway, we got back to town the next afternoon and the guy who had so graciously offered us a tow to his friend's shop, took us to a place where the guy wanted a week to work on it and 1500 bucks.  No way.  That meant, however, that I was stranded, because they were headed the opposity direction.  My spirits would have been on the floor, if it weren't for the fact that I had picked up money earlier in the day that my sister sent, $150 woohoo more money than I've had in 6 months!!  I invested it wisely, all but a 5 i gave to this black girl trying to sell me cologne, a horrible salesgirl but persistent, no nuance, just crudely answering my declination with her yes's, and who got me to give her the 5 because she had already asked me for more, playing the can-i-have-a-car-no-then-can-i-have-movie-tickets game.  Anyway, I crashed in Salinas River that night, and hitched the next day down to where the gas station was that the timing belt had gone out on the car, and went in and chatted with the guy who luckily was working again that day, this turned from "hey what's up I saw you the other day you'll never believe why I'm back," to hanging out wasting time with him till I was tired to hanging out with the cashier at a gas station till midnight to go drink and shoot the shit to drinking and shooting the shit and spontaneously going and buying a hundred worth of cocaine and splitting it in his car until 4 in the morning.  Yeah, that's the best part of this whole update and I dropped it in four lines out of 60.  I know, I'm a great storyteller.

So anyway now I'm in SLO, I camped at the creek, climbed Madonna mountain, got sick with the shits and stunk up the backyard and got some CS hosts and found out that the regularly clean the hobos out of the creeks so I'm a little worried about my stuff but I'm getting it today, and mailing stuff home finally so i'll have a lighter pack, and biked thirty miles roundtrip to Arroyo Grande and Pismo Beach yesterday on this bike I stole, a great decision considering it an investment in my travel, but I'm feeling pangs of guilt as well as paranoia that the person who I took it from is going to see me on it.  I justify it by "at least I'm using the shit out of it" and that I had a way more valuable bike which got taken, and I hope they're not too hung up on material posessions, and fuck them because less property makes you happier.  Maybe I'm being immoral and jaded and angry because I know I'm wrong, and anger is a way of coping with it, really in humanity if we are angry it's usually because we are wrong or hurt, which explains why negative energy is so bad, because if you wrong somebody, they are angry because they are hurt, and you are angry because you are wrong, and maybe I shouldn't steal anymore, but dammit, I needed this and it's very useful and I don't take very much, but I've already told you I have absolutely shitty moral fiber.

Today: Hiking Bishop's Peak in SLO and going fishing at the lake. Tomorrow, getting a ride to Santa Maria and biking to Solvang, a dutch community. The next day, biking to Goleta, UCSB's hometown to mack on college kids.

How many days can I go without shoes?  I have flip flops but I'm trying to minimize their use; I wore them once yesterday, in the recycling center.  I'm going to carry them and some hiking boots, but I still want to count; I've been mostly barefoot the past few days but today will be the first official! 



I came up to SF for the Bluegrass festival, I went snooping around my neighbors things and found a bottle of like 25 Lorazepams, which are like Valium, which I shared with my surfers.  I had a total of 6, they were pretty sweet, just two and a beer and you're good for several hours.  I'm done with them now, though, it was something to try.  Now I missed my ride to SLO and have to finagle my way down there; we'll see how quick I can get there!  If all else fails I can at least go hitch.