Mobile Home

This is how I'm going to start my blog. I'm going to not say I'm. It's difficult to describe. Why talk about it at all? It' hppens. The it. I am posted in a non descript motor home. There's a dog outside. Another dog, inside, is Lodo. My dog. Rex, outisde, is the outside dog. He used to be cool but he got buff. He belongs to Carlos and Maria. My dad and his girlfriend. There are noises about me. Proof of the life that I live amongst. Still I feel alone. I try to make myself invisible in this. People don't have to know me. I think I want to keep to myself. Candy might help me feel right. The sugar doesn't help, but the flavor does. I'm trapped in a conveniantly loaded apartment. I'm not complaining, I'm waiting for something to come and take it away! There are things. Seems like things can leeve* (leave, leave). I know a woman named Candy. Turned out I was related to her, through marriage. Candy. C-andy. My dog, Lodo's full name is Lodo-Loraine Toffee Foxie Candy Fox. Goes fine by Lodo. Barely fits the descript of a girl, but yeah, she is a bitch. Hard to go on. Anyway, candy. It might help do the trick: get out of this excuse to worry about nothing. How can I write without causing complaint? The candy is not helping. It's making me nervous and tense. I wonder is Maria has a Valium. Is that insane or what? I don't actually want to take it, I just wonder if it's in here like a thing that side swipes the whole situation. ...Feeling nervous? Here, take one of these! (A Valium). Anyhow, who wants to be that put down? I guess it's okay if you have lots of movies to watch, but I guess I don't remember how good it feels to just enjoy one. Not need it so much as just injest it like a good experience, something your body needs. I mean, it is medicine, isn't it? I'd take it as something to calm me down, not numb my body and mind. I'm not sure that people know what that prescription is for. What are people doing out there? Is anyone still drinking beer? I worry about the younger generation. Do they know what cool is? If I'm not cool, how can anyone after me be cool? I'm not good enough, and I'm what preceeds them. It doesn't make sense. People can't be cool if people like me arn't cool too. [When did I become that old?] Hi, how are you? I'm not sure that's the right way to start a conversation anymore. Where are you going seems more appropriate, and so does 'let me go with you'. The times are coming to jobs. Can I do a job for you? Let me get to know you, what do you need? It's not offensive, but maybe people have to pay to be friends. You can't just want to know someone, you have to. You have to get to know someone before you can ask to know them. How are you? Nevermind, that's a great start. What do you need? Take me with you. Let's work this thing out. Wait a second, do you want to work for me? Ha! Much better. Been sleeping on the ground for the past two nights. It feels good on my back, and I think it makes the night go by faster. I got up for burritos and donuts last night, just like the night before. Living in a motor home ensures close contact with the midnight highway. Two in the morning, donuts. Six in the morning, a great sun rise. Weather chill, bathroom out house. Silence, feels great. The dogs are sleepy, walking around with me. The day feels developed when you live somewhere that keeps you mobile. Ironically, I feel so anchored in. ..Can't wait to get my scooter back. Being out in the open road will be nice. I'll leave the dog and hit the road. I don't want anything to tie me down, but it doesn't hurt too much that something does. It's just the dog. We love each other. Where can't I go? I sure would like to have a two door car again. It's all I need. I could trade my scooter, I wouldn't mind. I like to sit in my car and take the dog around. I would love to move to Oregon or Washington or somewhere quiet and green like that. Humboldt County seems like a probable place. ... I didn't want to take my old car anyway. It was convenient, but it wasn't taking me anywwhere. It kept bringing me home. The scooter actually helps to get my out of the house, but a good sports car or something like that could get me out of town. I know road living is hard, but maybe with company somebody could do it. Where's that cute guy that wants to go with me? It has to be safe anyway. It gets cold at night. I have some money and I don't want a job, but how can one make a living off of that? Somehow, I wish I were going but... perhaps I'm more immobile than I feel. I am feeling regret. It kills, it doesn't go away. It just hurts and there's nothing you can do about it. Be honest, regret is inevited. In-evi-ted. A regretful action is always regretful. "Making up for it," whatever "it" may be, is never an actual correction of a mistake or descision that made you feel regret. It's an effectual cover up. Ultimatly, once you feel regret for anything, you can always feel it and regret it forever more, no matter what. ...Let's not talk about the hypothetical, where the regretful occurance results in something positive. ...Wouldn't something positive have happened if we wouldn't have regretted something in the first place? ... It's just hurtful. It's bad to feel regret. Seems like the feeling will never go away. I guess then, I'm sick. It's killing me. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. It'll be okay. This huge chunk of me has to live in wonder. Of, what if. Tear, tear. I' hurts. I' hurts. Where will going make me feel better? Crying, crying. Who can make it feel better? Oh, dear. It reads emotional, but really I'm singing and everything 's natural. My life feels like a desert and I'm enjoying it. Next time some one invites me to go search for a new home, somewhere on the frontier, I'm going to say yes. I'm not going to say no. Yes, we had a set up. Somewhere to live, something to do. I could have gone! There was no reason to hold back, and last minute, I did.. How can I correct that? I don't even keep in touch with him anymore. Our live's paths diverged so far apart. Who knows what it would have been like to give opportunity a try. Can't believe I didn't go for it. He moved to Wyoming. It could have been nice. I feel so solitare. Am I truely alone? Maybe I should have a beer. It's a long walk. I'll see what I can do. More day to go. Feeling good about it. *aware of the misspelling.