I adore a life of wanderlust at heart, which seems incongruous to the fact of me. That fact is incongruous with what I’ve always imagined to be at the kernel of a life of happiness: life out of a suitcase, a wind-up alarm clock, all the things I have in the world at clutch. In spartan quarters. Dining from cans and old coffee shops, listening to a transistor radio from which vintage programming squeezes itself from a speaker too tiny to sound good, which sounds great. There will have to be rain. And a typewriter. And bottles of beer and Coca-Cola and maybe, though I don’t smoke, the sweet scent of pipe tobacco, which is nothing like the disgusting fume of a cigarette to me. All of this is my maternal grandfather’s life, how he lived as he worked greasy spoons and wherever else while on the road while his family waited or it was before my time, but my time is before my time, so I think about it a lot, walking home from work or walking to it, considering how the embrace of anything beyond simplicity has fucked me up. Things. Chotchkes. Collections of a tone of collective shit. I’ll never get out of this situation, I’ll lament. Or it’s me, worrying about all that garbage. Keeping it all together. And if I lose some bit of it, I spiral.
It wouldn’t be like this if I didn’t have all this shit to begin with, I’ll continue, thinking to myself as I walk toward wherever it is I’m headed. It would be so easy to just go. Anywhere. For anything. It’d be like hopping a train. I’ve never really wanted opulence. The ostentatious collection of things. But I’ve found myself there. If only a little bit. Certainly enough of it to anchor me into places and situations no good for me.
I could just go.
Yes. I think I could do that. I think I should do that. A suitcase. Nothing I can’t carry. But wouldn’t it be lonely, a life like that? I’m lonely now. Loneliness doesn’t- It’s not as heavy a thing as some people want it to be. Or it’s misidentified. Ultimately, you’ve gotta love yourself. If you can’t do that, you’re lonely wherever you go, in whatever situation. I’m just talkin’ about getting up and leaving when the show sucks. Loneliness has nothing to do with it. Necessarily.