You can never quite imagine how anything will be. The actual event will always supersede or disappoint your previous ideas. Nothing is how we imagine.

I am surprisingly or not surprisingly quite happy here. As happy as I could hope to be after leaving behind everything and everyone I love to live alone in a place I have been only once for no more than an hour and work my ass of at something that requires far more discipline and skill than I currently posses. hahaha. but true.

Boise is a great place filled with wonderful and gracious people. Everyone smiles and drinks and laughs and it all feels very natural. Boise Erin cares far less about things that California Erin cared about. I feel generally more at ease. I feel like I don’t have to try as hard. I feel simple. I wonder if loneliness and liberation are linked somehow. No one cares what I do with my day. No one needs me. It makes me sad and then quiet and then a sudden peace comes. The sadness is like a storm. It blows over me during stupid mundane tasks like eating or rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. I cry. I allow myself no more than five minutes of dramatics and then I pull myself together. I finish whatever I was doing. I pick myself up off the floor. I turn on a record. I pour a glass of water. I write. And if all else fails I leave the house and walk to a bar and order a nice beer and talk to a stranger. This at least keeps me together. I refuse to fall apart in public.

I am all tanned skin, blistered feet and hungry. Hungry for food I can’t bring myself to make or afford to buy. Hungry for words. Hungry for human contact. Hungry for adventure. I am all wide eyes and Huck Finn.


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