What I do is write, wander the country via US Airlines, avoid as much that can anchor me to one place(after five years in transit to where-ever the tides take me I've come to almost fear the idea of being static) as I can, and talk about myself. It's not an intentional thing, I do suffer from a smidgen of arrogance but apparently what writer doesn't? At least that's my nice little way of rationalizing it, but in all honesty it's more that I suffer from the inability to not analyze myself constantly. From my emotional and mental stability all the way down to why I desire to eat what I did for lunch.
It can be easily understood now why I think of my sanity, suffering two near death experiences in the span of two weeks tends to make one wonder(also makes for some decent writing material to draw inspiration from). I've already faced down a gun and knife so I'm guessing sooner or later a car is going to come careening my way...or maybe a rabid animal*muses*.
 |
| It'll probably go down a little like this |
But if any curiosity has been peaked my past tends to leak through my rantings, which I'm sure I have alot stored up. Spending time over one's self can lead to a leetle bit of anti-social behavior, or it might just be the underlying mental trauma I have no clue.
But where I'm at now raises many a question about the direction things will go, I started out in California and, thirteen years later I'm in beautiful Spartanburg-Greer South Carolina. And the moonshine is good, tastes just like apple pie and engine degreaser! Only downside is the vision in my right eye has gone a little blurry but I blame that on habitual snorting of Viagra.
Viagra and homebrewed liquor aside I've somewhat settled down here with a trailer(my old bedroom in Phoenix is half the size of this thing) to get a feel for the southern country life(Nothing to do with bad decision making or planning). And have already run into a snag, besides the fact I haven't gotten the power or water turned on after a month.
You: But then however are you talking to us Oh wonderful Kyle!?
...fear not, the answer lies in the power of not telling you. All I will say is that urine and old car batteries are a powerful combination, and not just for that 'extra kick' in the stil. But why would one of a more northern and intellectual leaning move to a place such as this?
Love dear listener, sweet sweet love...or tax evasion, excellent mountain ranges out here. My lovely Michelle decided to move home late last year and I followed, then left for Arizona and Texas(there's a story involving vomit and a little texican cantina I'll tell you about sometime), then came back, then left once more to California and phoenix only to return again(Hey, I ran out of sourdough bread and peyote. They're great with a little red wine on the side.)
Understandably my Southern Belle got a little fed up with this, especially the almost dying every time I went cross country part, so half ways settled I am. Luck has not been on my side the last twoish weeks, securing work and home was no problem but the work part turned out to be a problem. No one likes a minimum wage critic.
"Its gonna taste like shit, just a heads up"
The Audience: Surely not thou! *look of overwrought surprise* Minimum wage, I can't fathom!Ah gentle reader, knowing me as well as the fictional audience does would bring about the same reaction. For being the intrepid traveler I am I have lived off strange wages and donations to my cause, never failing me before...until now.
In the event you are still reading it comes now for us to depart, but only for the moment! I shall duly return again and pander my innermost thoughts and stories as a street beggar does his most unsavory bodily functions.
"I will masturbate your cheeesssee!"
