Jittery.

So this nervousness is all too familiar. Every time I pack it up I start out gung ho and set out a nervous wreck. It's good to recognize it, and in the end I value my courage to cast off when my legs want to move the least. One in front of the other is the key.

I have felt so stagnant the last few years, unable to shake this feeling of my life ending on such a boring note. I think this exact feeling may have been what drove ancient people out of their grass huts and into the fresh and new. However, what drives me nuts is the knowledge that on any given day I have 100 fold more things to do that entertain me and all without ferocious lion-bear-mammoths trying to fuck up my performance. Yet I have this hole in the pit of my stomach, it pulsates and reminds me that somethings missing. It's not, money,family,friends, or material things...the hole is me not living up to my potential. I may be naive but I after a lifetime of trying here I feel that perhaps the train isn't stopping for me here in The Twin Cities. I feel the plane took off and the airport was shut down for good, the bud departed and the station closed it's doors to the public. I don't like feeling as if I've missed out on my opportunities but everyday I feel more and more of them slip away from me, right out of my own two hands.

No longer will I sit idly back and watch life hand fortune and adventure to those willing to step forth out of line, no I will redraw the line in my favor.I will cheat a bit if I have too...I just consider this outsmarting my opponents. It's not my fault I can count better...don't play poker with me,unless you want me to have your money...second thought playing poker with me is good.

Next Friday. 6 days from now I board a plane. I take a fraction of my possessions (mostly clothes) and I fly off into destiny...or in the very least I land and start collecting stories to regale my friends if and or when I return. Also I will photograph the ocean, sexually. Jokes help me prepare mentally. Jokes are how I have handled many of the great unknowns. Though Jokes don't help you when your psychedelic trip gets out of hand, they don't stop fists or elbows, they don't prevent death. Jokes just set me at ease as all these negative things pummel my brain, they stop the torment for a split second, they make me smile and laugh amidst the screams and howls bellowing forth from the inner most reaches of battered mind.

A heavybag and some boxing gloves wouldn't hurt right now either...but all I have is a bowflex.I better get on it.