Escape From the City!

     Story:
     I wake up the next morning after about three hours of sleep. I don't want to do anything else than continue to cuddle on that couch that's way too small, but I promised Caleb I would make him my specialty, my vegetarian chilli! It takes a while, but I finally rip myself up. I couldn't find my bag with my sweater in it the previous night, but now I instantly know where it is somehow. I grab it from underneath the table that I didn't think to look under and head out in the crisp morning sunlight to Norristown. It's way too cold for late Autumn, but that just makes me pedal a little harder.
     I finish the chilli just in (that's me!) time for Caleb to wake up to. We enjoy the meal together until he bids me adieu and leaves for work. I resupply from his expansive food stock and get on the trail back to Inner City (that's downtown Philly). I have some plans, including meeting a published poet at the University of Pennsylvania! But before I've ridden a mile away from Caleb's, Lionheart's left pedal falls off. Fuck.
     Unable to ride (except down a hill) I hop on a train to downtown. I met a man on the train named Rick who had worked there for 26 years. He had just a couple more to go though and then he was going to retire. What really struck me about Rick was how personable, cheerful, and kind he was. I asked him how he could be so expressive after 26 years of this same train ride. He told me about his two daughters that he was putting through college so that they'd be "put on the path that they want to walk." I was a bit inspired by Rick. I could not do what he is doing. He is driven by his duty and he accepts that. In doing so, he has gained a strength beyond what I am capable of. I tried to write him a poem but I didn't finish before my stop came up. The stop that Rick helped me figure out I wanted. Here's all I got:

     Train Man Train Man everyday
     You ride back and forth, but never your own way
     Are you bored? Frustrated? None can say
     For you are noble and kind, never saying nay

     I get off the train and it's too late now to get to a bike shop to fix the pedal, just as it's too late to meet the poet or anything else I was planning... Except taco night. Some cool dudes I met at the show at the Batting Cages invited me to their Taco Tuesday! I really wanted to meet that poet so I told them maybe after that, but I already missed him so I decided to swing by. Proving once again that it all happens for a reason, this encounter was meant to be. Over tacos, the five residents, their guests, and I totally vibed. I told stories, gave advice, and we all laughed. I was actually on my way to some other place to crash (which was good to have, 'cause the back up plan was sleeping ina park) but they invited me to stay there! The five of them were unanimous in inviting me on their couch and I was happy to be there!
     I ended up staying six night with Connor, Josh, Brian, Jason, and Alex. Through observing and interacting with them I got to know them pretty well! They frequently turn their apartment into a music venue and have house shows, which are awesome. They call their place The Petting Zoo. They all attend the nearby Temple University. Over the next five days I had several wild adventures, some with them and some on my own. I enjoyed a party they had, I cleaned and cooked, I made it to a poetry reading, I read a poem to my favorite band and sang along to their songs, I went to the art museum, and I escorted a lovely young lady through the city. But all those stories will have to wait for another time. There's fifty miles from here to Susquehannock state park and I gotta get going! I'm timing it so I can check out a dumpster along the way as the market closes. I'm learning so much, and there's so much more to learn.








     Reflection:
     Ever since learning the possibilities of dumpster diving, I've realized I don't need money as much as I thought I did. I ended up giving about $80 away to the homeless this week, plus more in food. I expect to be giving a lot of my money away in this fashion. Now before anyone thinks I am being ripped off or something, allow me to assure you I am not. Allow me to also question your perception of acceptable behavior. During my time in Philadelphia, I noticed many people on the side of the road, often holding a discreet little sign, asking for some donation. Most people walk by, looking forward with little white dots in their ear, looking intensely at their phone, or suddenly thinking about the weather (looking up).
     At one intersection, I also noticed a man in a pretty poorly designed printed T-Shirt (with words claiming to be a jersey). Every red light, he'd run out with his bucket and go to every window to deliver a very brief, uninspired, and emotionless spiel to donate to _____ High School Basketball team for new jerseys. When the light would turn green, he'd put the bills in his pocket and move to the front to do it again. I watched him do this a couple times, admiring his good idea, though questioning his sincerity and wondering how doing this routine made him feel, when he saw me staring and yelled at me, "Whatchu want!?" I'd seen enough, and rode off.
     Contrast this scene to Menor, a young Hispanic man I saw sitting to the side of traffic being largely ignored as described previously. See, Menor is 23. His birthday was on Wednesday. He moved up from Florida about a year ago. His three kids are with their mother somewhere. Menor got a citation from a police officer to appear in court. He doesn't speak a lot of English, and he thinks the citation is a fine. He thinks he'll pay able to pay it off in monthly payments. It's not a bill though. They are going to arrest Menor, and they are probably going to deport Menor. He has been trying to check craigslist for a jobs, but they won't let him on the computer at the library, because he doesn't have an ID, and in the city you need an ID to use the computer for your allotted one hour a day (as I write this, I am in a small town's library 30 miles or so out of the city. A please, smile, and thank you got me all the time I wanted). I learned all this by just talking with Menor. I just sat down next to him and asked what was up. He stopped asking for donations when he saw that I was genuinely interested in his story. Nothing dangerous about it either, busy street in the middle of the day.
     Not that anybody is actually paying attention to Menor—and that's the weird part. Everyone is just walking around, completely oblivious to this man's suffering, completely caught up in their own little world, they don't even look at him asking for help. I tried to help Menor by dancing for some change or by talking to people. Not a soul responded. Now I don't judge anyone—I used to walk by too, and felt rather uncomfortable when people got in my face about asking for money, but now that I know Menor's (and many others like him) story, I can see just how fucking crazy it is that everyone is pretending they don't see him. They're just pretending he's not there. They just walk by. Just the fact of this situation in our society worries me. Just stop and think about it for a second. If you're in trouble on the street no one will help you.
     So when I see someone, I stop and say hello. I ignore their sign or plea for money and just start talking to them; y'know, make conversation. At some point I'll offer a banana or an orange. It becomes really obvious really fast if the individual is just trying to panhandle money, or if they really need help and don't know how to get it. People that need help want to talk. They want to share their story. They need advice, help, or maybe just someone to talk to. People that are just seeking free/easy money don't want to talk. They don't want food (unless they're hungry). They are annoyed by your presence and would like you to give them a buck or scram. Preferably give 'em a buck and scram.
     I encourage you all to give food. Imagine if every person on the streets was given just a slice of bread or even one piece of an orange from every passerby? They would be showered in food. Additionally I can not image a single reason, both on a micro or a macro level, that this would be a bad thing at all. Anyone who is going to beg for food on the street probably really needs it.



     Poetry:
     Two this week! First, A poem I wrote on top of my gracious hosts' roof, observing the city pulse and breathe.

     "Assurance"

     The system beeps and blinks
     Helpful hums as the light man appears
     Red Green Red Green—interchanging forever.
     Metal dots—stop move stop move.
     Where are the people?
     Hard to see but
     they're still there
     They're still getting out of their holes to interact
     They're immerging from roof tops and balconies and windows
     They're living, and the city is their playground
     At least, some of them are.
     Some aren't listening at all.
     Some just follow the system.
     The system tells us where to go
     Wait, walk, wait, walk—don't disrupt the flow
     Fleshy dots—stop move stop move.
     Come here eat this! Go there buy that!
     Come here eat this! Go there buy that!
     Come here eat this! Go there buy that!
     Go there buy that!
     Go buy that!
     Go buy that!
     Go buy that!
     Go buy that!
     Buy that!
     Buy that!
     Buy that!
     Buy that!
     Buy that!

     So you do.
     And it feels good.
     Because you wanted it.
     You wanted that Big Mac, right?
     You wanted that vacation, right?
     You needed that medicine, right?
     Now you have everything you need and want.
     So now, you're happy, right?
    
     And here's my (currently) most recent one. Rather than tell you the how/where about it I would love to get some feedback to this one. I don't care if you like it or not. I want to know how it makes you feel or what you see (if anything). I will, however, tell you that when I read it I have a very very cheerful tone, and that I think this is my best poem yet. More to come!
Thanks!

     "The Courtyard"

     The murky tarnished penny bronze water
     looks clean and white as it falls.
     The well maintained shrubbery shows no signs of brush
     Instead, the fresh mulch shows signs of recent upheaval.
     Flowers exist in neat little lines
     Organized by color and height and type.
     Five young trees stand intersectionally spaced from one another.
     Each enjoying the abundant water in the ground that it need not compete for
     They are adorned with cords and wires
     Electrical energy travels unendingly up these tubes
     far faster than transpiration could ever hope to match
     to power the artificial lighting
     thousands of fireflys, held in place
     wrapping around the trunk as if a vine.
     The trees are aligned perfectly
     in a proportionately three by one rectangle of vibrantly green grass
     about as large as four small homes
     from the nearby neihborhoods.
     A clean and flat gravel path
     Winds predictably around the sharp 90°corners
     inviting the lunch goers to explore
     and perhaps inspect the four potted pine trees
     placed at each point.
     Well dressed men and women emerge from the presiding structure
     Sipping lattes and indulging in frappuccinos.
     They never leave the shade of the building.
     They just enjoy the peaceful control of this place
     and the gentle crashing music
     from the fake waterfall.


      Pictures:
     I was so fortunate to meet the awesome dudes at The Petting Zoo (and stay under their room for six nights)! These guys really know how live!

 As thanks I cleaned up that mess ^ Along with some others.

    House shows are just like, the coolest thing ever. Local and underground, it's all about community, supporting the art, and having a good time. Probably that last one the most. Nothing wrong with that!

Cold Noses and Warm Food.

     Reflection:
     I can not believe it hasn't even been a week yet. Every day is just so full of happenings it's hard to believe that. I compare this to my life of years ago; work, video games, eat. Maybe some comic books. I wasn't bored, but a part of me wanted more, though at the time the world was far too large and scary...
     Now here I am, writing about the first week of my adventure in the Philadelphia Free Library. Describing how I feel right now is difficult. My emotions throughout the journey so far have ranged from, "I can not believe I am here right now oh my gosh this is the greatest thing ever" to "I have no idea what I'm doing I might die where the hell am I?" That first feeling happening when I arrived at my current couchsurfer host's house and, after being greeted like I was family and fed delicious food, retiring to the room they provided to me. The later being camped on the side of the road on some random stretch in New Jersey, unable to move my legs after cycling for about 80 miles that day down the Jersey Shore, as water condescended and pooled inside my tent, making my rest rather uncomfortable.
     Certainly, most of my time has been and will be me pushing and pedaling endlessly on Lionheart. At the worst of times I most certainly question my decisions. Connecticut wasn't so bad right? There's people that love you there. It's easy. It's safe... But I don't want that. Not now. I want to adventure, while I can! I know nothing. I need to learn more before I can know for sure what path I want to take in my life. Who will I be in ten years? Who will you be in ten years? Either of us could be that downtrodden person on the corner, asking for change. How did they get there? How could we? Or maybe we could realize our dreams. Figure out just the right decisions to make to get to where we want to be. That's all life is. Decisions. I decided to be here. I'm deciding to push my body through whatever to get to where I want to be. Sometimes it sucks, but I made the decision. That means I'm awake. That means I'm free.


     Story:
     There are already so many stories to tell, how do I decide? I suppose I'll start the story of Philadelphia. Still in the midst of living it but I'll try to get it down here. It is everything we could have hoped for and more.
     I wake up at my host's place Saturday morning rarin' to jump into the city. This is my first city to explore along my journey and I am really pumped. I did a bit of exploring yesterday and got some leads, so I'll continue those today. I had gone to a used bookstore to ask about poetry readings/open-mics. They pointed me to another used bookstore, and they pointed me to The Kelly Writers House on the University of Pennsylvania campus. 'Twas getting late so I had headed to my current location after that, but now I hope to continue the adventure. Additionally, I plan to get to the library as there's that gal on okc that said I'm cool and wants to meet up maybe tomorrow... And there's the museums to go to.
     My host, Melanie, awakens with her dog Thor, and we chat a bit. Melanie is extremely kind and very interested in everything that I and the other couchsurfer here are up to! Her and her husband Rudy are extremely generous and really go out of their way to see that my needs are met. I scarf down some carbs in the form of a bagel and the left overs from last night (I cooked penne with a buttery Parmesan sauce with spinach, onions, and broccoli, which everyone seemed to appreciate). Melanie gives me plenty of knowledge I need to know about the city, and suggests I take the trolley in and leave my bike and bags here. A lovely suggestion!
     The trolley takes me on a tour of the outskirts of Philadelphia, specifically the South-Western area. It's a sunny and perfectly warm day as the trolley makes it way out of the lower income outskirt of the city into the clean and bustling downtown area—though for some reason the people taking their daily commute don't seem quite as excited as I am. The trolley enters an underground tunnel, making it feel very Subway-esque. I have no particular stop in mind to get off at, but when I see "University of Pennsylvania" on the wall I think of my mission to find The Kelly Writer's House and hop off.
     I emerge from the underground station to an academia in bloom. Cherry blossom trees line paths which maneuver and direct traffic flow around the many academic halls; some modern, some much older than I. Some students are setting something up on a table in a small grass clearing and, hoping at the chance for some free calories, I go over to investigate. I meet Anika, a beautiful college student who tells me she is setting up a pig roast for her student group. She introduces me to her beautiful friend Briana, who happens to be from Connecticut. She's impressed I know where her town of Granby is (thanks traveling science teacher job haha). At first, I'm really thinking about how I can not let them realize I'm not a student there and just some random dude wandering around so that I can get some food... But then I remember my mission to find The Kelly Writer's House, and that seems noble enough, so I admit my story and tell them about my journey. They are impressed, and give me directions to the place I seek. I say I'll come back after to chat more (and I mean it).
     Walking along, I reflect on how I felt about my exchange with Brianna and how once I was more honest with my intention (I stopped caring about food when I remembered The Kelly Writer's House) I felt a lot more comfortable. If we are independent—if there is nothing we need from another—we can focus on Just the exchange of ideas with them. We can connect. Taking care of ourselves and overcoming our desire to satisfy our needs and comforts immediately is the key to being genuine with people. As I cross a land bridge over traffic on Rt. 13, I am suddenly inspired. Being back on a campus is nostalgic, especially standing atop a bridge over traffic. I sit right in the middle and write two poems. The many college students and their youth is distracting, so it takes a bit, but I felt satisfied with my product in the end.
     The Kelly Writer's House has an energy to it. It is almost an oddity; an actual little two-story house across from and next to much more large and much more modern academic halls. Yet the small and densely shaded front yard leading to the front door is nestled in cozily where it resides. Walking inside, one feels the pull this place has on those such as myself, wishing to share their ideas. I ask a helpful student about the reason I am there; for a poetry reading, and she gives me a calendar. There is a speakeasy open-mic night coming up on Wednesday. Well, no idea where I'll be staying after Sunday, but I am going to that poetry reading and nothing is gonna stop me, so cool!
     I head back to the field where Anika and Brianna's picnic are in full swing. I am fortunate enough to look a bit younger than I am, so no one questions me when I begin helping myself to cookies and carrots on the table. I notice Brianna walking around and decide I aught to share my poem with her. She helped inspire it after all. She expresses her interest and I read away.

     "Spring on Campus"

     Ideas emerge from buildings
     into grassy fields
     like the flowers on a tree
     a glimpse of something real.
     A cost has been placed
     to experience such
     For that which aught be free
     is the price not too much?
     We sell our lives for the chance
     to take a glimpse of it is
     What are you not seeing
     drowning in Jack and Jin
     The cost of simply living
     grows heavier every day
     But how can we simply live
     if we're simply living to pay?

     Now for anyone reading that does not know or may not be able to imagine, reading a poem you just wrote to a beautiful woman on a beautiful day, as wind blows newly blossomed petals between the two of you and into both of your hair, is an absolutely invigorating experience. Take into account that my mind is completely clear as I just breathe and feel thankful for the few special moments that I may stare into this wonderful woman's eyes, and the term "living in the moment" does not quite fully encapsulate all the emotions. And when she seems to like the poem that's even better. In return for my poetry, Brianna shares her passion with me about light and photons. She tells me how something that is completely invisible is what is allowing everything and anything to be visible, and this fact is a constant reminder to her that everywhere is beautiful, no matter where she is. I'm struck, and I think of how I felt just a day ago, cold and wet on the side of the road. Could I apply this perspective to my travels? I believe I can. I will try anyways. I bid Brianna a good day, knowing I will not see her again. Such is the way of the traveler that I have chosen.
     So from there I head into downtown and end up at the Science Museum, just as it is closing. The guard tells me there's a Lego exhibit that stays open though on the second floor that is still open, so I agree to check that out (though on the way I look at all the exhibits heeheehee). When there is no more exhibits to see without going off course, I notice there is some event going on with catering. I'd love some of that food, and I happen to be in my good looking clothes, so the idea of sneaking in occurs to me... But I chicken out and leave instead. Standing outside the museum, I felt intensely regretful. I'm on my adventure! I aught to be taking the jump! That's what adventure is! What am I so afraid of? I held on to that feeling and resolved that next time, no matter the situation, I'd go for it.
     The adventure of that day continued, and I continued to learn a lot and meet many interesting people, but those stories are different paths. The following day, I had to ride just 20 miles to Norristown to my next couchsurf host. There is a beautiful bike trail leading all the way there that travels along the Schuylkill River (it took me a week before I pronounced that correctly). Along the way, I see a small concrete island, apparentely a part of a dam, out in the water looking over a waterfall. There's a long narrow path to reach the island (technically a pennisula now that I think of it). On that dry patch is a group of people clearly smoking marijuana. I can see the smoke in the air and most people would not go to the trouble of braving the scary concrete bridge just to smoke a cigarette.
     So as I'm seeing all this and riding along, I think, "Awe man, that is the coolest thing to do. That is exactly where I want to be and what I want to be doing right now." As I think this, all five of the people on the little spot there turn and wave to me at the same time. I wave back, and think about that feeling of regret from the other day. I decide, despite the social oddness of the situation, to ask. We only get what we ask for, and here's a great example. If I just kept riding, I would have regretted not stopping, and I definitely would not have met any of these folk. Instead, I hit my brakes and yell, "You guys seem cool, can I come hang out with you!?" They all kinda look at each other, and one girl responds, "Have you ever heard of stranger danger?" so I just below, "Faith!" and she yells back "...alright!"
     I secure Lionheart to a tree, make my way over the narrow bridge to the spot, and discover I was right; this spot is super chill. I tell this group my story and they figure out I am not a police officer and offer me some smoke. I tell some stories and am feeling pretty happy about what I'm doing with my life. One of the gals there tells everyone about a 4/20 show the next day at some batting cages. If I didn't take the jump I wouldn't know about that. I am SO there...
     I miss my turn on the trail and ride into the darkness for nine miles before realizing I'm going the wrong way (don't ride your bicycle way high at night time kids). I eventually get to my hosts house and am met with a freshly prepared delicious meal. This host's name is Caleb, and he is awesome. There are several bicycles hanging on the walls from the ceiling, a functional and very cool aesthetic Some nice looking guitars also hang to the side, though Caleb admits he does not play too often. A respectable shelf of books, a table equipped with lighting and water basins ready to grow plants inside, paintings of plants in cardboard frames elsewhere on the wall—everything points to Caleb's values of sustainability and preserving nature. After I finish eating, with consideration that I may be tired (it is almost midnight now), Caleb says he was planning on going Dumpster Diving. I perk up at the idea. Dumpster Diving is something I've been greatly interested in but had not explored myself yet.
     Caleb and I head out to behind a Trader Joe's where he shows me how this works. The results are amazing. We secure two days worth of food in five minutes, then we leave. I'm elated! Truly this changes everything! Rather than money slowly dwindling away as I sustain myself, I can now secure my own sustenance from the environment! If I really need food I can just hang around and wait too. Unlike most functioning members of our society I have nothing better to do haha. Caleb and I head back with grapefruit, greek yogurt, a jar of peanut butter, a crate filled with slightly browned pears, a box of macaroons, bananas, and some shampoo. I do some writing while I eat the macaroons and go to bed.
     Next day I head to the Batting Cages. As I expected, it is a collection of cool music types. I meet many awesome people and have a great time just doing that, writing in my journal, and listening to music. The show was in/very near to downtown Philly, so I had to ride my bike the 20 miles back up to Norristown. Not exactly the most fun trip at 2am in the rain (and without my rain gear ffff). I see some gals from the show walking their bikes and ask if I can walk with them for a bit. We end up talking on the corner for like 20 minutes until they invite me to the after party at Big Mama's House. I go inside and see a vision that I do not believe exists in the state of Connecticut. A large warehouse has been turned into an art studio/living space. Paintings adorn the walls, both on isles and painted right on the brick. All manner of projects lie about in different corners, from costumes to sculptures. Some people are playing on a pool table in front of me. Mostly everyone is on the couches in the center of the space, which are cordoned into a square, creating the social space. A simple swing hangs from the ceiling waiting to be used. People stand nearby smoking, drinking, and mingling. This... is... the coolest place. Ever.
     I sit on the swing and am overcome with joy. I've somehow stepped into some movie. Events are rolling by so fast I can barely keep up. Nothing isn't worth remember. Everything is exciting and rich in meaning. Perhaps life has always been this way, I was just too asleep to notice. My consciousness moves back and froth with me on the swing, between a state of disbelief that I am where I am and being so completely alive and in that moment in that space at that time. I may never be there again, I may live there for years to come. My path is completely up to me and I can choose any direction I want—nothing is in my way. I choose to write another poem, my seventh one since leaving. I read it to Hannah, one of the lovely women that invited me inside. She seems to like it. A lot.


     Hm, dialogue. Quotes. What people actually say. I need to work on that.
     Maybe more brevity? Every sentence should probably have a purpose. Maybe there were some I could take out? Hmm...


     Poetry:
     On the eve of the first night, I came upon Pocomo Point, a little park and trail in the North coast of New Jersey. I asked a police officer who was yelling at some dude to put his dog on a lease if I could camp there. I told him my story, and after seeing my Renzo Gracie shorts asked,
     "Do you fight?"
     "Uh, yeah I trained in Muay Thai a bit"
     "Dude, you are my hero. You're uhhhh not supposed to camp here but you can probably get away with it..."
     And off he went. I found a little path and set my tent up on the beach. Somehow, this magic place exists, where there are no people, the skyline of New York City just visible on the horizon, the sound of waves on the shore... It was amazing. I watched the sunset which was magnificent, and wrote this poem:

     "Northern Jersey Shore"

     The New York City skyline
     Just visible across the water
     The atmosphere is shades of vibrant and electric pink
     with fantastic warming purple.
     It is alive! The world is alive!
     The panorama shifts before our eyes
     Incomprehensibly beautiful colors
     drenching the painting above our heads.
     Birds fly off into it
     A jellyfish floats by
     Lights from buoys and towers and buildings
     begin their silent blinking.
     They are all a part of it
     as are we.
     I can not move
     I can not look away
     The heavens hold my gaze now with a deep magenta
     reflecting off the water and waves
     more marvelous than my feeble attempt of words can describe.
     Will I remember this moment?
     The peaceful beauty slowly fading away into darkness
     The now fiery orange horizon
     being chased away by an impossible gray
     My troubles behind me
     Hardship and wonder ahead
     How long can I exist here?
     Who is waiting for me in the night?
     I pray I awaken early enough to see the sun rise.


     Pictures:
     These won't capture the marvelous sunset I witnessed there, but here's my first night camp site:

 A secret(ish) path from the parking lot to...

 My first camp site (:

Pocono Point, New Jersey.
There are many little places left in the world that still hold magic.
I intend to find more of them.

Let. Go.

     Journal:
     So I haven't left yet like I wanted... But it's okay! I'm leaving in less than two days, on Wednesday! With a day picked out and just about everything ready to go, we can really feel it down in our bones. This is it!
     I've been thinking about voice in writing, and how my Journal and Story sections are sort of being written with the same voice and that's not really what I meant to do. Journal should be talking candidly, as if to someone else (you, the reader). The story should be a narrative; important things that happened in mostly sequential order, and aught to be either interesting, humorous, or at least have some lesson in the end. The Reflection should be deep thoughts pertaining to the lessons learned that week. I think I've been doing a good job improving this blog and I hope it continues to improve over time (but I'd love some feed back! Leave a comment!!). If you are reading this, thank you. And thank you for being patient. I hope you are as excited as I am as I make my journey to become the greatest writer I can be. On that note, I'd like to share that I have started my first book. I wasn't going to announce that until I put enough thought into it that I was serious about it but I know now that this book is something I have to write. More on that in the future.
     So for most of this past week, I've really been stuck in this perpetual "about-to-leave" place. That is, I've been there for months, since I decided I would embark back in September, but now "about-to-leave" is going to swiftly and violently become "left" and I have to admit—I have hesitated. Now I want everyone to understand that no part of me is considering not going. That is simply not an option for me. I want and need this journey with every part of my being. However, unlike months ago, there is now another want as well. These past couple months have been some of the most amazing of my life. I have learned so much, grown so much, experienced so many amazing moments, met so many amazing people... It is hard to let it all go now. A part of me doesn't want this period of my life to end! Of course I still want to hit the road but now there's a voice saying, "Awe, it's over already?"
     See if I had left in September it'd of been easy. Connecticut was a sinking ship and I was sailin' away! But my perspective is different now. I still think Connecticut sucks and still want to experience living in another place, but now I know that I could have been happy here. There would have been a lot of things for me to figure out so that I could live the way I want to live, but I believe with time I could have made it work. This is a fantastic development! In September, among the many reasons I had for wanting to leave, escaping was definitely one of them. I had to get away from all this because it was killing me. However, with time and my new found knowledge which only continued to grow over the months, I conquered, and now I leave victorious.
     It's still hard though, to let go. That has been my final obstacle. Y'see my parents, they struggle with this. Our basement is, and has always, been filled with a bunch of random CRAP. Just things. Old toys, grandmother's chair, the dumb Rock Band controllers. Things only accumulated over time, and I see it plainly; this clutter is my parents' biggest problem. They can kind of see it too. They fight about it all the time and have for years. It's weighing them down and stresses them out every day. However, neither of them knows what to do about it. Now I have to admit, I'm the same way. My room in the attic is a mess and has always been. Even when I moved out I left a bunch of stuff behind for people to have to deal with. See, I never learned the lesson from my parents because they didn't (don't) know it to teach it to me. We have to learn to let go. Monetary value, memories, the off chance that we might need or want to use something—it's not worth the trade off for the space! And it is especially not worth the trade off for all the stress and anger it causes in our lives.
     The whole process is really draining on me though so it has taken longer than I thought. Lots of emotions and memories with every little object. Every pen, every bag, every dumb scrap I collected... Lots of tedium and organizing too, my weakness (and not a lot of space to do it in). So many distractions everywhere, so hard to focus on the task, my other weakness. I can open up just about any of those books/comics I have up there and just get lost in them until I finish it or break free. There goes a half hour! There was a funny moment where I was deep in emotional and logical thought (pondering where my small collection of music cds aught to be placed) when I suddenly noticed a tiny drop of some mysterious liquid. "Ugh what's that!?" I exclaimed! That kinda brought me out of my head though and made me realize just how much mental energy I am using to do this task. I look at all these things and I don't know what to do with them and I'm trying to figure it out but sometimes instead I just feel like I just need a fucking English Muffin y'know? It's too much stress and I'm out of energy so I need some sorta boost here. My recent experiences with Claire and Lili and Hayley give me so so much energy but I don't want to use that for this. However, with all the "awe it's over already" plus the "holy shit I am actually leaving forever" emotions I could really use the help. If any of you read this from the depths of my heart I thank you. With all this torrid of emotions constantly embattled in my psyche, at times the task seemed insurmountable—and in the past truly it was to me.
     I had been putting it off for a while, the inevitable cleaning and organizing that I would have to do. I have been putting this off my entire life. But now it is a true obstacle on my path—I cannot leave until I finish this. I can't just leave this mess behind for people to clean up after me. I can't pass on the burden of letting go to anyone else. I can't just hold on to every little thing because I might need it one day, or because it's worth a couple bucks, or because when I hold it I remember that moment we laid in bed together and everything was simple and right... My father even offered to clean the attic for me. He saw the stress it was causing me so he offered to help. 'Twas very kind of him, but I knew right away I couldn't accept that. I have to do this myself. Plus, my father was just being kind. He is not able to do this, not yet... See I can't solve my parents problems for them, but maybe, if I show them what I have learned... If I learn how to do it right in front of them then maybe they'll figure it out too. Maybe when they see how much shit I throw away and how much of my old self I let go of and how fucking clean I make that attic then maybe they'll figure out how to do the same to the basement.

     We have to let go. I am leaving and I have to let go. I am leaving and everyone has. To. Let. Go. 


     Reflection:
     Well my first reflection is that this is the best blog update yet haha! I am adequately expressing my feelings and I have high hopes that a reader may understand how I feel. Hmm, someone who doesn't know me at all might have a harder time, but I'm getting there... This blog was such a great idea. Yup, feelin' pretty good about it!
      As we go through life we establish all manner of connections with people. Parents, teachers, friends, lovers, neighbors, coworkers, acquaintances. Of course there's more specific connections too, like the bank teller you see every week, or that guy you cycling down that road every day, or the lady at the grocery store... When we establish a strong enough connection with someone, as I was writing about last week, we can begin sharing ideas with them. When we are with someone that cares about us, they should be seeking to understand us and learn about us as best they can. By understanding someone, we are more able to synch up with their energy and connect with them to a greater degree.
     I said last week that this connection creates energy, and that is love. But why?
     We are all on a path. The path each of us travels is unique onto us—each with its own unique challenges and lessons to learn. When we exchange ideas with another person and create that energy, it helps us grow! Wisdom changes us. Anyone can say, for example, "live life to the fullest" or "take care of your body" but that doesn't mean they'll understand what that really means, or how to apply it to themselves. However, when we see someone living in the way we want to live, or just having traits that we wish to have, we come to admire them. If we get the chance to observe their way of life, we have the potential to learn from them, and apply their good characteristics to ourselves, if that is what we want to do. When we do this, we change and grow. We become a different person; a better version of ourselves. When someone helps us along our path like this, they become a part of us. We cannot unlearn what we have learned from them. This growth is love.
     People come and go in our lives. The more people we meet, the more we grow. However, we can't hang on to every person that we encounter. We all have our own path to follow. We can't shackle those we love to ourselves and drag them along with us. If we want to continue to grow, sometimes we have to let go.


     Story:
     I awoke today groggily, as was the norm this week. I'd been staying up all night long and sleeping just around four hours. Too many things to do, too much time wasted already. My efforts had paid off though, as my attic was finally cleaned. Aside from the few things I still need to access, such as a bag of clothes and a bad, everything is packed away into a cubby for a life beyond my current challenge that I can not yet see. However, a giant pile of stuff was sitting downstairs, either in a garbage bag or stacked haphazardly, waiting to be dropped off at the local library or Goodwill. That and a few other errands were all I have left, so after loading the car up I set out to accomplish them.
     First, the dentist. I've been pretty sure that I've had a cavity for a while, and with no insurance I was really hoping I'd figure out some way around it. It's not like I don't want to pay, but medical costs are just so outrageously high, I feel like I'm being robbed. There are few things I hate more than being ripped off, and I will choose to suffer before I give up one of my hard-earned dollars for anything over-priced. For instance, I will never pay more than $1 for a bottle of water (and even that's too high really) no matter how thirsty I am. I will probably feint from dehydration before I let the injustice of over-priced water be abetted by me. Anyways, I want to be able to eat nuts and such when I'm forty, so I paid out $210 to get one tooth worked on (and that was apparently a deal). The drilling was a good experience though. I opted for no shot of numbing agent as I wanted to work on my pain tolerance. At first I winced and clenched my hands I usually do, but then I applied the new technique I've been working on of disconnecting from the feeling. It worked. Our body is a vehicle. Pain is just our brain communicating to us. It is the same as any other feeling. I relaxed my muscles and just laid there, letting the Dr. drill away and the pain move through me.
     This dentist I had been recommended to happened to be in West Haven, though I was probably drawn there for just that reason. I went to the post office and said goodbye to the nice worker there whom helped me sell much of my things the past couple months. I ran over to my credit union and said goodbye to the nice, albeit bored and asleep, tellers that helped me with my account there.
     -Note: I hit Undo and for some reason the last hour and a half of my writing was deleted and is just gone. That's pretty demoralizing, especially at 3:30am when I'm falling asleep at the computer. It's regrettable but here's just a quick summary of the rest of the day.-
     Went to Renzo Gracie to say bye again. Hit the bags a bit, skills have not waned. Cool. Gave massive comic collection to library. Librarian was really happy. Cool. Goodwill took all my other crap and I got some high-cal food at Trader Joe's for the road. Great. Got some cupcakes for Sandra and I, but she disappeared or something. Oh well. I've always sought solitude in nature to reflect. Rob and Janny had come by during the week to see me again and give me the gift of a special moleskine notebook. With notebook in hand, I headed to a special spot on the West Haven beach to be there one last time. I reflected, wrote some poetry, took in the moment, and watched the sunset. After that I trekked back to my mother's car and said my last goodbye to West Haven as I drove off.
(I wrote like two elogent pages so mad).


     Poetry:
     In my mad organizing I found an old Tanka I wrote (a longer version of a Haiku).     I wrote this years ago in college.
     It seems appropriate to share this week for that reason, even though it doesn't have anything to do with what's going on in my life now...
     Hmm... or does it?

     A duck among goose,
     eating and flying with them.
     Is it a real duck?
     White wings against brown feathers;
     for where will the hunter aim?


     And here is a new poem I just wrote today. I think it needs work but whatever! This is a space to share ideas not publish stuff:

     "Youth"

     People tell me I am young
     and I believe them.
     I believe them because I see those who are not
     I see those whose dreams are dreamt
     Whatever they had wanted from life
     lost
     never achieved
     given up upon.
     It is them whom I dread to become.
     I would die tomorrow, thankful
     knowing I did not fail the calling of my heart.
     To be old is but a state of mind!
     Our bodies decay
     but our spirits do not have to.
     I believe this because I have seen it.
     The Path is long and arduous
     but those who walk it and reach their end
     a place where they are satisfied
     without letting the world and all its trials
     weigh down their hearts
     find something there.
     We are born in a sunrise
     unique, brilliant, miraculous
     As the day goes on
     there are skies of clouds and of storms
     Skies of peace and blue
     Skies of wind and rain, too
     And finally, we have our sunset
     as unique and miraculous and brilliant
     as the day we lived.

If you need something, ask.

     Story:
     Lili had a class thing to go to, so I had to get going. There were two more people that I wanted to meet Rudy though, so she left with me. When I say goodbye, I guess I reflectively steel myself a bit. It doesn't matter in the end; I always return to my feelings and sort them out. We remember that moment though, something about it at least. The light, the sounds, the look on their face. It never fades—at least I pray it doesn't.
     It was a beautiful day with few clouds. Birds were about and 'twas only a bit nippy. The rain the previous night had continued the cold streak, but with weather like this it truly felt that Spring had come. In other words, perfect riding weather! My mind cleared, aside from generally worrying about little Rudy on my back, and I was very inspired to write some feelings down, which I planned to do on the train. I arrived at the Greenwich station and was soon approached by a man whom gave me a tip about sneaking a bike on the train during peak hours. He said he was a cyclist too, so I asked him a number of questions about bike care. I am amazed every day how openly some people will express themselves to me, simply because I listen. His tip didn't work though as the conductor stopped me from entering the train, so it was just Me, Rudy, and Lionheart hanging on the platform for a while.
     I took out some paper to write my thoughts down but I realized I did not have a pen! I then remembered a lesson that was just retaught to me: If you need something, ask. I start asking. "Excuse me, do you have a pen?" Usually only to someone who looked like they might though, such as if they were carrying a bag. No one has a pen, so I just keep asking away and petting Rudy until a train comes that lets me on. For half the ride I'm just crammed in the corner holding up Lionheart to minimize my space usage, but as the train moves away from The Big City the people aboard dwindle, until I can finally sit down.
     I had texted Sandra in the morning about maybe hanging out as I'd probably be around, but I guess she made plans. She was one of the people that I wanted to meet Rudy, and this would be her only chance, so I tried to convince her to work us in. She sent me one of those Icy Kisses that I've seen her blow on occasion, and it chilled me to my bones. I savored that feeling, then put it away for later and wished her a wonderful evening. I'll miss you Sandra.
     As Rudy and I descended the stairs from the train platform in New Haven, I notice at the very bottom, sitting on the floor as if left for me, was a blue pen. I picked it up, knowing that this pen told me everything that I needed to remember that day. I put my gift in my pocket and rode Lionheart into the streets of New Haven.


     Journal:
     I decided to head straight home. I needed to reflect and be alone. Rudy and I made it a bit after darkness had fallen. I played with her a little but then let her get some rest; her adventure with me was finished. I was fatigued but far too inspired to sleep. After I got some of that energy out I faded away, only to awaken the following morn to continue where I had left off! I was so filled with energy from the previous days events I wrote five poems that day! That's a new record! So I'm not saying I'm some totally amazing poet now or something, but just speaking objectively about my own writing, I feel that it has improved since I started. That's a good feeling!
     So I had this magic card, a Shiny Damnation, which I got in a pack years ago with Kara. I remember Kara grabbed it and ran off as I chased her around the Student Center cafeteria. She licked it and I really freaked out. I sold the thing on ebay but ended up getting it back (the only card ever returned). So Friday I was seeing my ol' mentee Ben for the last time, and I really wanted to give him a nice gift. His mother has been so generous to me, and they really love me over there, I wanted to give some of that good energy back. Still, I hesitated. The Shiny Damnation was probably my most valuable card, worth about $100. I could totally get away with just giving away some $20 card or whatever—he doesn't even know about the Shiny Damnation. I want to be a more generous person though. I don't want to think about monetary loss or gain all the time. How people feel and what we learn is far more important, and we cannot put a price tag on that. When I handed Ben the Shiny Damnation later after a game, I knew I made the right decision. He squealed, he jumped, he laughed, he said he'd enshrine it in a case forever, he gave me a hug. After a nice dinner and some of the usual witty banter from Ben's mother, I raced home becaaaause...
     Hayley was coming over! After I got my phone back from the Shakedown show, the beautiful gal that had returned my scarf texted me and wanted to hang out! We talked about life and the universe and ate pizza and french fries with teriyaki ginger sauce and played with Rudy and went for a walk. In this world, we ask not with our words but with our actions. I want to build meaningful relationships with people and have lifelong connections. I seek this through most of my endeavors, and I believe that by focusing on this goal with people it creates the utmost positive energy. Hayley and I had a wonderful time together and we will always be friends.
     I went into Easter morning on less than four hours of sleep from the past two days, but I was so charged up from energy it didn't even matter. I packed up my computer for good along with all my stuff—I've got a lot of organizing to do before I can leave. If I really want to get out of here by this weekend (that is the goal!) then I've really got to stop wasting time. After a nostalgically stressful holiday morning with the family, Claire arrived with her promised pie, and was soon followed by the uncles. Dinner was nice and I connected with my uncles a bit and talked about my imminent journey. I took a short run after dinner to gather my thoughts and reflect on my feelings. Looking over the lake, I recalled an image of the ice melding into the fog and into the sky, and I wept. I returned home but had to return to the fresh air right away; this time taking Claire with me. I showed her a Weeping Willow tree that I've always loved in this neighborhood and we joined its sorrows, then wrote a poem together and walked back. Unfortunately my uncles left before I returned. I'll miss them too.
     To my surprise, Lili was in the area with some friends and wanted to come get Rudy right then! She said she'd be around by five but being predictably unpredictable, I was not surprised when she swung by around nine. So I, along with Claire, Lili, and her two friends Jen and Ashley, hung out upstairs with Rudy, sharing a couple stories and poems. When it was time to go I said goodbye to Rudy. I was not sad however, because I knew this was right. I said goodbye to Lili again, and felt the same.
     Claire and I spent Monday eating, sleeping, traveling a bit, running an errand, and of course, connecting. My parents needed me to witness some mortgage signing so, being inspired by my uncle's stories, and seeing a rare opportunity to embarrass my parents, I walked to the table only partially clothed muttering, "So what'd you need me to see?" Heehee it totally worked! Mother's friend Ellen showed up and, having just stopped by at the Marijuana dispensary which is apparently in the next town over, Branford, she smoked me up! Waah!
     Tomorrow morning I will see Claire off to work. I stayed up all night writing this though so hopefully I can pull my act together in coming days. There is only one final thing stopping my departure...


     Reflection:
     I am in constant search for truth and understanding, so I am constantly questioning and revising my beliefs. I call this Free Thought, and I believe it is essential to our growth as a species.

     There is matter and there is energy. We are matter, but to move and to think, we use energy. In order for our synapses to fire and make connections, our brain uses energy. Ideas, then, are energy.

     I don't believe in some sympathetic entity that will punish the wicked and protect the good for us. But there is something that can not be described with words, at all, which has some form of observable action in space and time. We can call it a name, like God or The Universe, but that is only to help us conceptualize it. We can claim it exists or argue it does not, but our understanding of existence is questionable at best. I do not think we have the ability to understand "God," at least not with our current level of understanding of reality. In example of that, just think of how knowledge of the Spherical shape of the world and celestial bodies changed the way people understood the universe! As we learn more about the universe, we'll be able to understand ourselves more as well.
     This goes back to what we are. We are the energy being constantly sent to Earth from the Sun. We turn that energy into everything we do and feel. Our emotions and ideas are energy that was once inside the Sun. In this way, we are all one.  Our matter comes from the Earth and when we die, returns to it. Our energy comes from the Sun but does not return to it when we die. Where does our energy go?
When we have a desire or a need, and we put forth energy by thinking and asking for it, could that energy have an effect? When we take action and work towards obtaining our desire or need, could that energy have an effect on the world around us?
     If two different people are each searching for what is within the other, can they each not help but find each other? This is serendipity. This is "God."
     When we communicate with someone, we experience and express emotions and ideas. Words, too, are energy, in the form of sound. Communication is literally a transferring of energy. When we connect with someone, we have established some pathway to allow that energy to flow. The more connected two people are, the more energy can ebb and flow between them. This mixing of energy creates new energy. This is love.


     Poetry:

     "Hardship. Love. Wisdom."

     The path before us is seldom clear.
     There is always an easy road-we don't even have to wake up
     But the greater the challenge the greater the reward.
     Thorns on the path pierce our flesh, and make it difficult to step
     So we grow callouses and walk on.
     Being alone on the path is terrifying, and weighs down our heart
     So we grow brave and press on.
     Traversing on the path less traveled, we can not prepare for what we do not know
     So we grow resourceful and continue on.
     But regardless of the direction we choose
     There will be times when we are brought low.
     When we are in need or want
     Our strength and knowledge having failed us.
     It is these times that we must ask.
     When you want something, ask.
     When you need something, ask.
     Ask and you shall receive.
     We only get what we ask for.
     But do not think to depend on this.
     Those who ask for everything
     Can hold on to nothing
     Those who always take the least painful turn
     Never gain the strength to carry what they need,
     Those who stay with others at every turn
     Never gain the independence to control what they need
     Those who follow another down all turns
     Never gain the wisdom to know what they need
     Those who make all these turns
     Never gain the freedom to decide what they need.
     They are doomed to forever ask
     for what they do not even want.

If there was a truth to the world, would you want to know it?

     Journal:
     A week anda half worth this time!
     My week started off with a ride up to see Rosalyn. I've been steadily saying goodbye to people throughout the month, while preparing to leave, and living and having a great time as well. For the most part I was getting people to come to me to hang out and say bye, but it'd of been difficult for Rosalyn to get from her place in Waterbury to me in Guilford, so I set atop the bicycle (besides, I think riding some obscene amount of miles just to spend time with someone is romantic, if ya'll didn't figure that out yet). On the way through North Haven I found on the side of the road a slightly damaged but mostly still functional leather whip. It really called out to me and seemed a gift from the Universe to Rosalyn so I grabbed it. The ride ended up taking longer than anticipated, but I made it eventually, and Rosalyn and I subsequently had a great time. We made veggie burgers and hung out with a stray cat whom I helped name Lutzwick. He was pretty affectionate, maybe even a little too much haha. I brought the Red Rooster cookies too as promised, which of course were amazing. The whip was well received as well. The following morning I walked Rosalyn with her bike to her new job at K-Mart and said goodbye to her there. It's funny how we can sometimes assign additional meaning and emotion to moments retrospectively. I rode away from Rosalyn a bit after noon and headed South to Derby to get my stuff I lost at Shakedown last week (See Story for that adventure).
     Adam came by on Thursday to hang out, which is about time I haven't seen the guy in months! We used to see each other quite often, but since moving to West Haven and moving away from video games and such, he hasn't been around much. Dude went to school right down the street too! He says he's busy, and I'm sure he is, I just don't buy it. When I want to do something, I make it happen, doesn't matter what gets in my way. Otherwise, I just didn't want it enough. Seems to me it's that simple. Anyways, Adam and I played some magic and caught up, and that was cool. I wonder if I'll ever see him again.
     Friday was a fun day! I ran 5.5 miles to get Lionheart from Zane's, but it hadn't come in yet, so I had to run back! Wake up, run 11 miles, no big deal. Actually, I was surprisingly unaffected by the exercise. Compare to just 1.5 years ago when a half-marathon knocked me out and made my whole body sore for a couple days. So after that I hopped on my bike and rode another 12 miles total to have lunch with Noah and Holly and Bill. Noah gave me his pannier bags that he used during our Montreal adventure, along with his camelback from the army. These useful and valuable gifts are incredibly appreciated by me. I feel as though Noah and I are on the same level just going down different paths. He is pursuing success, stability, and Justice, while I am pursuing freedom, expression, and Love. I plan on seeing him again before I leave so looking forward to that.
     Later on, Janny came by and we had a nice little heart to heart, so that was cool. She also brought like $50 worth of Mamoun's sandwiches, and that was extraordinary. Angelica, Glenn, and Rob caught up soon and we all had a great time hanging out and eating falafel and drinking tea. Now I gotta share something about Rob. This guy and I had our differences in High School. I think it was something about his humor, just rubbed me the wrong way. Every once in a while I'd feel bad and apologize and he'd offend me all over again! Well, that was high school, but I kind of hung on to that ugh feeling towards him for years (which I realize now was very immature of me). So Rob started expressing his ideas which he's fostered through his instruction into the world of accounting and his Tai-Chi group and that was all very interesting. I believe that one of the purposes of our existence here on Earth is to learn and grow as much as we can. I wonder if this has anything to do with my instruction as a teacher. Regardless, Rob had many thought provoking ideas and I was forced to admit that he's not a total jerk after all. So, sorry Rob, again.
     On Sunday, Claire, Rudy, and I went to Poughkeepsie NY to meet her family. Claire's mother's house was amazing! They had 3 dogs 6 cats 4 guinea hens 2 ducks and at least 8 chicken. Claire's mother has amazing taste and buried us in amazing food for the duration of our all too short stay. We hiked a bit around a frozen lake, got expensive chocolates, and had dinner with Claire's younger sister. The next day, after an amazing home cooked breakfast from Claire's mother, we took Claire's other sister and her boyfriend to lunch. They had hitchhiked around the country, and I was very interested in that for obvious reasons, so that soon became Claire and I just listening to their story, with a couple questions from me here and there. It is amazing just how much people will tell you when they know you're listening. The response is automatic, sub-conscious. People don't even realize that they are gushing all the wisdom they can. Even people that prefer not to interact or be social will express themselves to a surprising degree if someone just expresses general interest in something they know about. We all want to spread knowledge. Words are what most people use.
     After that, Claire and I walked on a large pedestrain bridge over the Hudson River, which was cold but lovely, then met her father. As before, after I showed some interest, he was very excited to give me a tour of his jewellery making business in his basement, and that was neat. We got dinner at a Mexican restaurant and that was nice. All in all the weekend had far too much food and driving. I spent most of the time full and car-sick. However, I wouldn't change a thing. I am so thankful to Claire for wanting to share this part of herself with me, and especially for making it happen! I learned a lot! About her and more!
     Next Monday will definitely be my last update before I depart. I plan to leave sometime next week. Once both myself and the weather are ready, as ever. I never did finish my taxes, so I should probably get around to that. I should get this cavity looked at. I need to pack my bags, maybe get two more pannier bags if needed. One last visit to the Credit Union to cash/deposit some checks. Just a few more people to say goodbye to.
     We are now in the eve.


     Reflection:
     In our civilization, words are truly put on high as the means to express ourselves most fully. Reading/Writing is taught (these days, crammed) to children in schools above all other modes of expression or thought. I do not deride the importance of words (after all, here's my written blog) but I feel that often times, words are inadequate. We use words to express ideas, and for that they are often enough, when we use enough of them. However, we also use words to express our emotions, and for that they are seldom enough. Scholars are people who work with words to express ideas most succinctly. Poets are people who work with words to express emotions most succinctly.
     Even among the greatest scholars and poets though, there are ideas and emotions that language is simply not yet at the level of expressing. Language is a tool we have, and it is still evolving just as we are. Perhaps one day it will be able to express our full range of emotions and potential ideas, but until that day, there will still exist mysteries buried within our minds and spirits.
     Beyond words, we also use art to express our ideas and emotions. Despite schools limiting art to "Art Class" and there being a general stigma against starving artists (among some circles); I believe art is truly its own language just as important and expansive as the written word. Are we on the wrong path as a society? Moving away from our emotions and towards a more robotic numeric existence? Business is business, and business is the pursuit of profit. Money has power in our society. What will our society be like when very few people care about expression, the environment, or our deep range of emotions?


     Story:
     So I'm on my bike (as usual), returning from Waterbury. I am on my way to Derby to retrieve my things from the well-intentioned Ms. Corinne. It was supposed to take 2 hours, but a path I took was covered in ice and slush, so that slowed me down considerably and soaked my feet. Then, of course, I took a wrong turn and had to seek an alternate route. I didn't know any direct routes to where I was heading so I had to go a bit out of my way to avoid getting lost. As I rode down route 67 into Seymour, I noticed a box and a dead animal on the side of the road. Back when I was commuting around via auto mobile, I would sometimes see things on the side of the road that I wanted to check out, but would be unwilling to slow down, pull over, and get out (that's what cars do to you). Well those days were over, so I pulled over and checked out the scene.
     There was a large male rat, deceased. He was slightly crushed, but definitely not by a car. Next to him was a little carry-home box from a pet store. It said, "Please bring your pet home safely!" on it. I named the rat Jack and buried him away from the road. I didn't expect to find anything but I looked in the box anyways. To my surprise, inside was a very much alive little rat! Immediately, I decided leaving her here was not an option. It was cold, there was ice everywhere, and this is right next to the main road. This rat would not last the night. So after some brainstorming I repaired the integrity of the box with my sweater and figured out how to carry it while cycling. I named her Rudy and continued on my journey with a new friend!
     I stopped into an animal hospital along the way and they were able to confirm that the animal was, in fact, a rat, and that I should not feed her rhubarb or raw onions. Upon leaving the hospital it began to rain and hail a bit. Rudy and I pressed onward to my friend's abode, where we had a brief respite and I was able to re-equip myself with my preferred gear. A lady I did not know arrived while we were resting and mentioned that she was looking for a new pet rat. I thought about handing Rudy over to her but... I hesitated. I had just found this little tyke and had been thinking how I'd just take care of her until she ran off on her own, but I was already becoming attached to her. I didn't want to just hand her off to the first stranger that raised their hands, so I did not offer Rudy up. I fed Rudy a fig newton and we struck back out into the storm.
     As Rudy and I came into New Haven, I was wet and cold from the water falling from the sky and exhausted from carrying Rudy (not to mention the eight straight hours of riding). I decided it best to seek refuge with Claire—she'd know what to do with this rat! As a thank you for the aid Claire was probably about to provide, I stopped along the way to grab some cheese for us and a carrot for Rudy. The cute cashier at Edge of the Woods got pretty excited about Rudy, so that made me realize that riding around with a rat is kind of the coolest thing ever. Turns out Claire used to have pet rats, so she did more than help! She saved our lives! After a lovely impromptu evening with Claire and Rudy, I left in the morning with the rat.
     Over the next week, I created Rudy a little habitat in a box and kept her happy and fed. I sang her songs and showed her off to friends that came over! She even came with Claire and I on our trip into New York to see her folks! All week though, as I got more and more attached to Rudy, my worry also grew. I was desperately trying to figure out some way to take Rudy on my journey with me, but couldn't think of any way to do that safely. Most information I found told me it just would not be a good idea, so the other option would be to find Rudy a good home, but giving her away to someone I didn't know or could trust (maybe they'd feed her to a snake or who knows?!) was something I just couldn't do. On Tuesday, I spent much of the day worrying and working on a way to somehow travel with Rudy. I was so emotional about it, I revealed Rudy's existence to my mother and almost got her to watch Rudy instead, but a part of me really wanted to go on this adventure with Rudy. Maybe I saw how important it was. A cool lady I was talking to online also helped assure me it was possible. So, the two of use left to get Lionheart, with her in a courier bag with a metal tin inside keeping it spacious.
     Lionheart was beautiful. Sleek, metallic black. Fancy disc breaks. Front and rear pre-installed fenders and racks. Ready to ride. But the emotions of this most anticipated moment were overshadowed by the intense worry I had for Rudy sitting in her little bag. Was she comfortable? Too hot? Too cold? Hungry? Thirsty? Did she fall out?? Am I banging her around too much? It took some fanegaling but I figured out the best way to carry Rudy and still pedal. The two of us met Ma & Pa, an incredibly kind older couple that I had met at V-Fest back in August.
     Ma & Pa really wanted to see me before I left. They showered me with gifts for my journey! I just wanted to see them, talk with them, and learn something but they gave me so much! I accept a lot of gifts these days from people who simply want to give to me to help me out. I must remember this spirit in the future, especially when I am no longer in need. Ma even gave me a joint haha! She promised it was "really good stuff." After dinner and discussion with them, Rudy and I rode through the wet cold to stay over at Claire's again. This time she got a big cage for Rudy! Woah! Rudy seemed really happy about that. She kept popping her head over the ledge and looking at us, then running away and hiding. In the morning Claire left for work, and I left with Rudy to continue on my way.
     The train to Greenwich was a little uncomfortable, but I pet Rudy the whole way so that was nice. Rudy was doing surprisingly well traveling in the courier bag and I guess I had not needed to worry that much. Upon arriving at Lili's home, Lili was instantly taken by Rudy. It turns out Lili not only had a pet rat in the past, but really wanted another one now! Lili and I caught up while Rudy ran around and got into trouble. She helped me find a pencil though; good job Rudy! Later, Lili and I smoked the joint that Ma had given me. She wasn't lying about its potency either! Lili and I went inside to chill and I became aware that I should look at Rudy, but I was afraid of the emotions that would incur from doing so. I was right to be cautious.
     Do you think there are some ideas we are unable to conceptualize? Even if we were using our brain to its full potential, could we be simply unable to process the information? If someone one-thousand years ago spoke of an age where ideas and thoughts could be spread via metallic wires and light signals across the world, which was round of course, would they not have been considered mad?


     Poetry:

     "Point."

     I come from you.
     We three melded together with everyone.
     I can not create life!
     Every single organism
     Tree to human to ladybug
     Each a gift to this world.
     The Sun is our father
     The Earth is our mother
     We are all the same
     Just on different levels.
     So we made our own pets
     They're cute, right?
     This one can toast.
     This one can blend.
     This one can connect me to another on the other side of the world.
     But none of them bear more by themselves
     We have to create them ourselves
     with our hands.
     That's how we'll make life,
     with our hands.
     And the life we birth will make our lives easier.
     It will perform its task and go to sleep.
     The life we create serves us, but it doesn't mind.
     And we'll become just like it
     And we won't have to think
     We'll just toast some bread, here.
     We'll just blend some fruit, have a good day.
     We'll stay connected to everyone all over the world, talk to ya later.
     Connecting in person is hard.
     It's easier on the screen
     It doesn't hurt
     It's all numbed
     I can pretend I'm connecting with people.
     I can pretend I'm the hero
     I can pretend I'm making love
     and I don't even have to move.
     The illusion is better than the experience
     Is this the next level?
     Or a void we'll be trapped in foreverr??
     ...
     We haven't lost our ability yet
     to connect and become one
     the process that brings new life.
     Do we truly have the power now
     to decide our own path?
     to dictate our own fate?
     We are so small.
     How can we trust ourselves with this decision!?
     Making the decision ourselves
     That's the whole point...
     What will it look like
     at the end?
     I return to you.