One of my biggest problems is the ironic realization that I no longer feel the want to travel and see the world. It’s still there, but it’s more like an after taste, an afterthought. The idea of living on the road and traveling the states as a freelance writer/drifter, no matter how far-fetched it may have sounded, used to rule my mind. It was a constant obsession that lasted for a good six or seven years. I got as far as Yellowstone where the obsession reached its peak and then fizzled out, flooded and extinguished by reality. A shift in the tides, a shift in the Earth’s restless plates has left me without reason. I returned to the dreaded Houston, changed my major from Geology to Communication (a decision I will always regret) and blindly and almost braindead, graduated from college. And now, here I sit in some crack town outside of Galveston called Dickinson, looking for a job in my hated field of study and coming up empty-handed. What am I doing? I have to find something else. I need a plan of action. My mother told me to listen to my heart, that it was easy, but I seem to be having a difficult time doing that. It used to be easy, and maybe it still is, maybe I’m trying too hard.
June 23, 2005