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I’m on the road. I’m on the road. I’m ON THE ROAD. I did it. My lawyer friend, Bob (he’s not a friend, I actually hate his guts and I’m pretty sure he fucked Louisa when we first started dating, but he’s the only real estate lawyer I know), is taking care of the closing on the house and all of that. I sold all of my photography gear, a ton of antique furniture from the basement, and every god damn shred of Louisa she left behind. Her mother is gone. No, not dead, I’m not that lucky. I put her up in one of those 55+ senior living communities. Rent’s paid for 6 months, by me of course, and after that… well. Let me put it this way: I am never going to see that atrocious old bitch ever again.
Speaking of which, I did get a mysterious letter from Lou a while back. A few weeks, I think. She said nothing important. A few apologies, a few “I am doing well” type statements. I got the overwhelming sensation that the woman has lost her mind, just like I’ve been doing lately, and I simply don’t care. She didn’t leave a return address, so I assume she wasn’t hoping I’d write back or, even better, come by for a visit. So, what is the answer? Fuck Louisa, fuck her mother, fuck me, fuck everyone.
Me and the road. Goodbye, New Jersey.
I bought (sort of) a 2008 Itasca Navion iQ Mobile Home. I put down a pretty serious down payment, and once the house is sold, I’m going to be kind of rich so… I went for it. I am in love with this thing already! I set sail one week ago, after some neurotic preparations, and I feel like a new man already. This thing, it’s amazing. I’ve got a big fridge, a two-burner stove, full bathroom with a decent shower, queen-sized bed, great stereo system, two LCD TVs, DVD player, tons of storage… it is like home. Except I don’t want to crawl out of my own skin every time I step inside.
Before I left, like I said, I sold pretty much everything. I wanted to have a fresh start. So I went shopping. I did some major, major shopping. I got myself a ton of camping gear, so I can stop and spend a night in the woods anytime I want. I bought a laptop computer, so I can write more, and I can research where I’m headed on the road, and keep up to date with the lawyer. I went a little nuts and bought 73 DVDs (mostly old samurai movies, a few westerns, and everything Will Farrell ever starred in) for the boring nights. I also started drinking alcohol a few months ago, I mean heavily drinking, so I basically have a full bar in the RV now. I think my bill at the liquor store was $436.07 or something like that. I also bought a lot of CDs, but just the stuff that would be good for the road. I got a lot of The Eagles, Waylon Jennings, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Juice Newton, Johnny Cash, and under the recommendation of the nice lady at Best Buy, I bought a CD by some band called “Notorious BIG” or something? I think it’s space jazz, I don’t know. In case I’ve never mentioned it, I’ve never been a big fan of music. I listened to some orchestral music when I was a kid but, I don’t know, it just never did anything for me. I like some of the old country stuff because it’s better than silence, it sounds good on the highway, and it’s easy to tune out when I want to.
I like to look up things on the internet when I roll into a town that looks different than the rest. Right now, I’m just east of Amherst, Massachussetts. Camping next to the Quabbin Reservoir. On yelp.com, I found a bait & tackle shop in a town to the north and tomorrow I’m going to try fishing for the first time in my life.
I figured it’s a good idea to head all the way up to Northern Maine, and then travel across the entire country to Southern California and then up into Oregon and Washington, and who knows where after that? I’ve been to the south a bunch, as my family hails mostly from Georgia and Kentucky, and I don’t feel a need to travel down there anytime soon. I’d like to first focuse on the places I’ve never been.
Up here, I haven’t met anyone too interesting yet, but I sure hope to soon. I think once I get up to Caribou, Maine (that’s my starting point, when I will really start this trip), I am going to try and go through all of the big cities. I have no time restrictions, and money really isn’t an issue. To be perfectly honest, I think I will probably off myself at the end of this trip, so I’d really like to “Carpe Diem,” as they say. I will turn this trip into 6 months or a year or two years, I will make sure it is the greatest time of my entire life, and then I will die with some dignity. Maybe I will drive my Navion iQ into the Grand Canyon or off of Niagara Falls. Or maybe I will get piss drunk one night, throw gasoline all over the interior, light it up, and drive straight into a small-town gas station and make the biggest fireworks display those poor people have ever seen.
It’s exciting to think morbidly now. I was always afraid of that. Not really afraid, but it never seemed right. It never seemed to be what normal people did. And, since I’ve spent my entire life trying to blend in and do what is expected of me, it feels pretty good to stray from that. I’m still thinking about murder as an option, just because it seems like it would be a lot of fun, but I’m not sure. I really think my ass is too sweet, and I wouldn’t fare well in prison. Maybe right before the end. Right before it’s time for me to die, I’ll try to kill 1,000 people in one fell swoop. I don’t know. That’s a long time away. For now, I have to get some rest. The old man at the bait & tackle shop said I should get up at 5 in the morning if I want to catch anything good.
Is it wrong of me to admit that I really only want to catch a fish so I can slice and dice it and taste its blood? I’ve been fantasizing about it for hours now. I might eat it raw. I can’t wait!!
Trickster Syndicate 