I had a bad day, and my protein cravings have been getting more intense. Trapped on the university campus during the hottest part of the day, seeking the strength to battle beauracracy and get back into a school I hate in pursuit of a degree I really don’t care too much about, aware of my limited funds and impending journey, I bought a cheap turkey sandwich. I doused it in mustard. I inhaled the thing.
I haven’t even had fish in months. I can’t tell if it’s the meat or the coffee playing my intestines like a set of bagpipes.
I am leaving the flatlands on Sunday for the hill country to live on the ranch and pitch in on festival preparations. My best friend is getting married there just before the festival and I am officiating the ceremony.
I am surrounded by blooming wildflowers and singing green trees, yet the major elements of my life are trapped in Autumn, crumbling back down into the earth. I realize that room is being made for some new phase, but the awareness does not ease the pain.
I might go back to college. I might go back to Alaska. I might damn the whole mess and hitch hike to the Rainbow Gathering, which I hear is back east this year.
I can see flashes of lightning in the darkened west, and the wind smells like cow shit and despair. And I am fantasizing about medium rare beef steak, and the addictively sharp taste of blood.
