Overcome, as it were, by a sort of random sense of longing, desire for desire’s sake, an aching lack of nothing in particular, I resolved to discover the truth behind it all, the principles that make this thing happen. You know what thing I mean: this world thing, this maddeningly slow blur of universe we’ve all gotten caught up into. I found, in the back of my closet, a good, reliable jacket, the sort that would not disappoint you in a pinch, and I filled the pockets with the trappings of survival: something to read, something to make a fire, a knife with assorted tools and blades, a compass, a flashlight. You know, that stuff. I looked around in the garage for a length of rope, but I found none. Apparently I had been living, up to that point, a ropeless existence. This was another clue, I suppose. I tried on my old work boots, but they were too stiff and uncomfortable, so I donned my trusty sneakers. And I set out. I set out to find the answers, to locate the edge of the universe, peel it up and look underneath. I ended up at the coffee shop, sipping coffee and talking to homeless men. When it got late I went back home for a little sleep and found my pocket-stuffed jacket sitting on the bed. I hadn’t even remembered to bring it. This was another clue.
Hello, friends. I’m setting out again in the morning. Wish me luck.
Later. Love.
