March 1st, 2000
It’s early March. The air is thick and the sun is hot. I’ve been on the ramble trying to keep it together. Mardi Gras is only a week away but you wouldn’t know it for the streets are as hollow as the eyes of these tourists. I’ve been having Nicaraguan dreams that have been scattering my force and driving this emptiness home in a crooked line. I think it’s spring magic. I’ve got rent paid until May 1st then I’m off on the western road to try and keep this dream alive and fill up my Pacific love reservoir which I’m depleting trying to keep it good and steady down here without getting vacuumed into it’s darkness. It’s not bad mind you, just another challenge spilling into adventures of various sorts. My mind has been out of alignment with my heart lately. Black and white. I could give the facts without the feeling or the feeling with out the facts but one is too cold and the other too abstract. How I feel about the facts?.. they bore me. I couldn’t tell purely of yesterday with the feelings I have today, which is why all my letters seem to ramble. I could just say it’s the same ol shit here, everything different so nothings changed. If only my personal history would truly repeat itself I might feel some sense of security. But what joy could possible be found hitching your horse to the illusion of security? I’d much rather hunt the horizon.

May 30th, 1995

In Eugene. We went around trying to bum up some cash to get a part for the bus. I like the way the trees smell around here. All the same characters as before and now we're headed to San Francisco then on to Colorado. Should be there by morning if we don't break down again.

Change of plan, Farrah is going home to god knows where, so we’re gonna get dropped off in San Fran and figure it out from there. Got no money, got no compass. Nothing makes sense. Not sure it needs to at this point though. I have a strong sensation of feeling and knowing everything, and in that I'm feeling and know nothing. I'm ok with that.