From My Window To Yours

I left home for a little while. Where I’m from we never lock our doors or windows.
“Locks are to keep people in.” That was the philosophy.
Nothing has ever been taken from me. But that’s not to say that nothing was lost.
Not nothing—everything.

I left home and when I came back it was gone. All the peace I once knew was gone. It is not the place or the things, it’s the people and it’s the time. Places and things do not change while people and time cannot hold still.

I stand on a familiar coast and I cannot feel anything nostalgic.

time drags on
this is no tunnel
(their ain’t no lights at the end (and there is no end))

"the first duty of life is to live"

tacks

I can see stars tonight
I can but when was the last time
I looked?

A ghost sings to me
through miles of pine
and thorns

I hate this
I hate this
I hate me and when was the last time
I breathed?

I see stars tonight
I see them but how far away
are we?

a strange but comforting static
relays the pine needles
and the stars are dead

just a ghost
just a ghost

This blog is two years old today.

One year ago today I hopped my first train.

twists and turns on the longest coast

I found myself
lost
and I seen the sun
cold

there aint
nothing
but
miles

on this desert

I seen the
coast
and I’ve found
the land

there is
nothing
ain’t gonna
stop me

(from burning or freezing or stagnating)

the camera on my phone is busted. I bought a disposable camera and am documenting my travels with that. May be some months until I am able to scan the photos and upload them here.

I’m in Northern Maine currently. 30 miles shy of Canada. Got me a job harvesting blueberries for the next few weeks. Not sure what comes next.

Trying to get back in to writing.

That fear that you will be alone forever

overdraw

I’ve sold ‘em millions
of lines of lies
I’ve used the truth
to spend the sky dry

what do I have to
leave ‘em with now?
black asphalt
where the grass once grew

I said I’m sorry
too many times

Maine:

Jumping off a dead train bridge in to a lake.

Spacebags of twisted tea. In fact way too much alcohol. Very liberal laws concerning liquor. Blessing/curse. God help us.

Really really really really good weed.

Feeding cows, goats and sheep old rotten fruit.

Building a fence today. But first: twisted tea.

Currently reading: The Man In The High Castle (PKD)

Nursing a broken heart, still.

Tomorrow: 3 mile bike ride to the coast to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic for only the second time in my life.

In a few days: hop a train, Portland to Bangor. Then the Black Fly Ball in Machias.

where the pain used to be constant, it is now coming in waves. maybe it will be a long long time until it is gone completely. but I think I’m starting to feel better.

Made it to Maine

trains that never come

a past that wont get out of the way

a 137 mile mystery

doors that open to bricks

"am I as forlorn
as a leaf stripped off
the branch on the first
day of summer?”

multitudes of coloured strands

a hold on the earths rotation

I am going nowhere

until I am gone

I didnt take this picture.  But this is where I am until tomorrow.  I have been feeling so so so much better since I got to New England.

I didnt take this picture. But this is where I am until tomorrow. I have been feeling so so so much better since I got to New England.