Planning a road trip

Around this time last year, I wrote a poem. It's beautiful and so real. Every so often a bunch of words come together in my head and find, beautifully, a way out. The poem I'm referring to is titled "Oda al fuego de la vida" and it is, to date, the most sound conversation I've had with Love. One way, but still a conversation. But enough of that, because I'm tired of thinking of Love this weekend, or the absence of it.

Let's talk about a road trip. A road trip heading West. Finding libertad. It's in my head and it won't leave. The road has taken over my day dreams, my night dreams, my writings, my drawings. I see open roads and dream of open deserts. I see sunsets on the road and the moon rising. I see myself alone and my bike on the rack, just waiting to touch ground. I don't see the destination. In fact, when I think of a destination I get anxious. Because I know no one is waiting, not really, no. No one has a bed for me, or a place to leave my bike. No one has a job or an interest in me. But that makes me stronger and makes me want to take off soon. But there's too much to do before I take off, so for now let's organize, let's teach, let's photograph, let's talk and laugh. I'm enjoying my friends while they're still next to me. Before I say good bye.