Today I kicked it in a friend's car for three hours. Stopped. In the middle of nowhere. Waiting.
A "WRECK AHEAD " sign baking in the heat of an uncharacteristically hot Oregonian summer day.
Impatience. Going crazy. Dancing by myself on top of the car. Impersonating Neil Young. Trying to instigate a revolt
"STORM THE BARRICADES!!" Uncomfortable families. "OR I WILL KICK A BABY IN THE FACE!" Nervous glances from alarmed fathers, the inquisitive gazes of small children.
A fatal wreck. A person reduced to a big crimson stain on dark, hot asphalt littered with smoldering upholstery.
I return home, finally. Yesterday, I was told I had till the 15th of august in this wonderful place.
Today, they told us we have to be gone by the first. T-minus 10 days and counting.
My dear friend fractured his skull. I totaled my car. My dream house gets yanked right out form under me after a mere three weeks. No jobs. Nightmares. The echoing silence at dawn's first light. I feel myself slipping. Do I just let it go?
It feels like the universe is trying to tell me something.
Either that or my brain is weaving patterns from senseless chaos in a pathetic attempt to make sense of it all - as though any sense was there to be made or understood.
I don't believe anything happens for a reason. I believe things happen the only way they can - and that's usually in a completely idiotic fashion.
Irony is a neurotic lover.
I am faced with a dilemma .
Before me are three options
1. Stay in Portland, tough it out. Wait till the burn, get a job. Quit in 3 months to return to UCSC
2. Travel home to Glendora. Stay there for a while until I get a car. Bum off my parents
3. Go back to Santa Cruz, live on the street and try to scrape enough money together for a deposit.
None of them really seem all that promising.I'm beginning to wonder if I have enough caring left. I'm kind of over this pretty little hollow heart i've got.
Too tired to even deal with this.
I think tomorrow I'll shave my head.