Rolling, II

In Denver now, looks like I might be here for a couple days trying to earn money to get to Boston. Things are pretty interesting, to say the least.

Sarah headed out to the airport this morning, with all the money we made from busking last night and the account that the money donated for the purpose of getting me to boston was just about to be transfered to, leaving me with a little over $5 in change and a half tank of gas.

Don’t think I did anything wrong, save for the fact that most of everything didn’t go exactly as planned. Last night we were fine until it was time again to sleep in the van…

Hoping desperately that I can get the DD pay by Western Union. Otherwise…

I don’t know.

Fuck – I’ll make it to Boston, this ain’t shit. Just a different situation, no worse, no better than any of the other adversities I’ve faced.

Bean is rocking, enjoying the ride and all of the different places we get to stop – all of the different smells – the countryside, the deserts…

God, it’s good to have her back.

More later.


Van problems, necessary repairs before the journey. Good thing they happened before we got on the road. Sleeping in the van on 24th & Duboce because of a bad coolant leak. Got it fixed, belt broke, got it fixed, finally dropped off the postcards from Marie to Whitney, picked up Bean, The Best Dawggy in The Whole Wide World from Patty & Shawn who have been caring so wonderfully for her these past few months, and just arrived in Vegas.

A day late & 270.00 short, but we’re on the way.

Found a place to park at a hotel, set up the tentby the van, made certain that Bean is FAR more comfortable than us, and now are about to collapse.

Busking in Vegas had better pay if we want to make it…

the email is off to Amanda. We’ll see what happens now. Don’t fuck with me, little girl. All or nothing. I’m not fucking “admin”. You can find a thousand other people begging to be only that. I’m not one of them. Open your eyes and make your decisions carefully.

tomorrow, I’m off to Boston. We’ll see what happens then.

it’s as if time has suddenly been compressed, two days left and my, but hasn’t it come and gone quickly?

I try not to let on, try not to let her see how nervous I am. Business. Take care of what needs to happen between now and Friday morning. Once I.m moving the fear will be left behind as it always is, but now it swirls around making certain that every tiny thing that can go wrong is played out in vivid color in the hours where I should be sleeping, eyes closed in desperation and hope but the scenes keep playing over and multiplying. No, just take care of what needs to be done. Easy during the day…

I need to get on the fucking road.

Still so much to do before I leave…

Sacred Songs / The Brigade, my Children

From a recent email, typo’s and all:

The deluge has begun, and i find myself being brought out of a slumber
laced with ennui and remembering who i am. The blood is pumping again,
and I love it.

I think I’ll start my next LJ entry with that.

No one needs to tell me, but I am always appreciative when I hear it.
The emils I’m getting – people who have been limping along finally
breaking down their wallls and becoming incredible, that’s what I
need, that’s what I thirst for, that’s where I fine my passion. My
gods, girl – sometimes I find tears of happiness falling as I see what
is happening.


It has begun again, and reminds me of who I am, of why I am. It isn’t the necessity or intensity of the move in eight days, it isnt the worry that we might not make it, it isn’t anything but the way I see people grow around me. From a tribe that I needed to start to this, I find my calling. The old black man sitting on a ramshackle porch smoking a corncob pipe and offering eternal wisdom comes in many ways. That is what I wanted to be, that is what I am. I light my last cigarette and watch the smoke curl. It’s not a pipe. It doesn’t need to be. i’m that man I wanted to be. I live my dreams. My wings unfold and I fly, I fly in the Sea. I need to get back there before I go. Alone or with someone who knows that they shouldn’t talk to me, shouldn’t be around me. I loathe the trivial and mundane. Leave me with my thoughs at this time or be like her and her singing on my birthday last year. I will never forget that, the song that washed over me as the Ocean did. One with so many years behind has so many memories.I wish I could remember all of them.

A new breath and I find it humorous as i lose it so easily, but when it’s time to step up and the need for me comes again I am there and I am who i am. I thirst for this, and it comes to me. There is nothing that could ever replace it. You haven’t seen what i have, These people growing, reaching inside, becoming like I always need to, becoming more.

A difference will be made. Having no blood of my own, they have become it, and they are my children. Strange how things happen.


I need to try to sleep. Much to do tomorrow.

I leave in eight days. Sarah arrives tomorrow night. I leave? What the fuck am I thinking?

I know I need to. I have been reassured.

Good night.