Journal before Greensboro move
8/1996 Sun 2:50am, Texarkana
So I’m here at Denny’s, again. I guess this is where the nightlife is. I guess. There’s some goofy drunk motherfucker to my left; fucking with everybody.
My move is coming from over the horizon. Greensboro and/or bust, I guess. I think it’s overdue, but I’m not sure. T-town seems to be warming up. Meeting chicks around the place. Don’t mean shit though. I keep “meeting” women at Walmart – that’s damn funny. You’d think normal people would meet in bars, malls, etc. I meet them in Walmart! There’s this girl there; keep forgetting her name. For strangers, we made an awful long initial eye-contact. 3, maybe 4 seconds — short, but long time to look in the eyes. A little smalltalk — nothing bad. But, see, I’m tired of first meetings. I’d like to go beyond, and I can, but it’s all grey. I need to move. I want to move for a getting-together, but I stop myself. Why?! Am I shy? Am I afraid of loathesomeness? I’m an O.K. guy. Not bad, not good, but OK. Why can’t I allow myself to be me?
The move sounds promising. It sounds promising. Maybe, it could be the same old shit up there. I don’t know, but it is a change. A change of scenery. I’m up there. I’m on my own, still, but not alone. If I’ve got to talk, there’s someone there. If I need to run, I can grab someone. At least, that’s the way it seems. I’m scared, though. What if I can’t keep rent? What if I fail my responsibilities? Home is safe. It is secure. I could keep my job; they love me (if, in fact, it’s not lipservice). I could grow my cache of friends here. With more motivation, with more intent, I can do that. With a proper sleep pattern, yeah, I could do that. I love late night, but it’s so barren. The world sleeps; I’m awake. The phone rings so little for me. I’ve got a roof over my bed, but no one to share my bed with. I’m not complaining — I mean, it’s a single bed, but I still hunger for partnership. I’m tired of coming to Denny’s late at night by myself. Family aside, I’ve not had a woman in my room in a long time. EH! Enough of that.
In search for the Promise, I push and better myself. I became someone new by going to college. Would I be writing in Denny’s if I just quit right after high school? My tastes have changed. My styles has changed. My needs have grown. I’m stuck, without finally standing upon my own.
God, this place is full of Flo’s and Jethro’s. I feel like leaving.