Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Prologue #2

We leave tomorrow on our
Really fucking long
In this notebook i will record my thoughts
And feelings towards anything and everything
That comes our way
Or enters my mind.
I need to clear my head and that is
Why i agreed to go on
This journey with allen.
Graduating from college is like jumping off a cliff
And trusting that somehow
Everything will turn out alright
to fall
you lose
hope that
or something
Well i’ve already digressed from
The standard journaling form
This will probably be my only
Entry that reads like
What one would expect it
To read like
That is fine with me
Because more truth
Can often be found
In fiction
Than in any nonfiction narrative
And the most useful information
Is found on the extra blank pages
In the back of a book
Or in the empty spaces in the margins
Or in a brand new notebook…….

My entire life can be summed up
In the preceding pages


And the digression always outweighs progress
On this trip i am hoping to find a way
To change that
I need to tip the scale
In the other direction
I’m not sure of what the future hold on this trip,
Nor do i care necessarily
I guess i’m hoping
That through this journey
Which as of now we have not
Plotted out a specific course for
I will gain more direction in my own life
Through the absence of direction in my journey
I will obtain one in my life
Or through the finding of a suitable route
On this journey
I will find that there are many
Correct paths i can take in life
Most likely it will be non of the above
Or else this journey will be in vain.
Our notebooks are supposed to help
Us apply meaning to this trip
No, they help us find meaning for this trip
No, they will show us meaning.
Hopefully we have brought everything
That we will need for the next
….period of time we will be in transit
At least until i can put a period
At the end of the last sentence
In the last paragraph
On the last page of this work,
Whatever it is, or will become, anyways

I guess we will put anything we need
On allen’s credit card,
It’s new and he has a pretty high limit,
I think,
But i forget how he plans to pay his bills
And i forget what address he gave them
Maybe his parents’
But he obviously doesn’t live there
If he lives no where
His goal, i think, is to find good reason
To stop moving
To stop traveling
To stop looking for whatever he’s looking for
Probably what i am looking for
And put roots down somewhere
But i am not sure
What he, if he has any,
Has set the criteria as
For what he considers a good place
To plant himself.
I clearly need this journey
Maybe more than he
Because i keep wondering
About him when this
Is supposed to be for me
These pages intended
To serve as my sanctuary
And it will become hard to enjoy
The peace and quiet
If his interior monologue is constantly
Slicing through the silence
And echoing off the tip of my tongue
And funneling itself into the ink
Of my pen
Until our thoughts are no different
And we’re nothing but two bodies
Riding in a cardinal direction
Pedaling in unison with two set of legs
But thinking with only half
Of our brain power.

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