I’m pretty sure when I’ll be back again. In about two weeks I’ll leave and be back in about two weeks.

Green pickup doesn’t have the same lyrical flow as a jet plane though.

Anyway, I recently decided I needed a long drive and have taken off two whole fucking weeks, the longest time I’ve not been working in two years. I’ve got to get away. Got to get away from this godforsaken hellhole that is Tucson.

[note: It's not that a bad place and the winters are spectacular but it's never clicked with me. Yet it still feels like it was a place I had to be to move on and lordy lordy how I wish I didn't have to go through these previous few years even if I needed to do so.]

[note to that note: I don't know really what "had to be" means there. Without it were would I be now? Would I know what I know or would my previous pattern have ruled? Would I have grown faster and farther if the world was arranged in a different way and I had met someone different? Would it have been better? Would it have been words? Would it have made me itchy? At least a constant exposure to cats made me non-allergic to them over the past few years. Whatever I got out of the past four years I got the ability to pet a cat without being itchy.]

I’m going to see the ocean. I’m going to see real trees. I am so sick of this dessicated wasteland with the pointy angry plants and the grabby bugs.

I’m heading north to Oregon and maybe lands beyond if momentum permits. I’m going to see stuff again like I used to in the glory days when I was free and flushed with movement. I’m going to camp. I’m going to be dirty and cold. The constipated life I’ve lead here in Tucson has been not much fun.

What really struck me as odd and amusing in a grand perspective kind of way was how I was telling a friend I was heading north and asking for a place to sleep for a night. I mentioned my vague itinerary and ended with “and then…” That should have been “and then home” but I realized that I have nothing here anymore, if I ever had anything here. Tucson is not home that’s for damn sure. It’s just been a place I’ve been for 4 plus years.

Now that I’ve lost all my significant connections to people here since most were through the “Recently Lost One” as mentioned much earlier on this crazy mess of a mental spewing, I’ve only got an apartment and a lot of cooking equipment and a great big box of spices. Lots and lots of spices.

That realization is a tad depressing. Four years and all I’ve gotten out of it is spices. I should have tried harder.