I’m in a random library on the outskirts of San Antonio, waiting for Joshua to be done with that silly work thing he does. I’m doing better today than I thought I would – I checked out only reasonably late from the resort, and then headed over to the Witte Museum, where I learned muchos about South Texas history through the ages. There was also a Leonardo Da Vinci exhibit currently being displayed, and that was darn interesting, as well. The main point, however, was that it passed three hours of my time in a cool, intellectually stimulating climate (and I didn’t really care either way about the intellectual part).
I’ve wanted to write something lately – something fictional, I think. But I’m afraid that’s mostly because I’m terrified about writing anything non-fictional or autobiographical, since even these blogs seem to somehow get me into trouble.
I understand that the life of a writer, if I decide to choose such a path (and is it really even a choice? without it, I fade away), is a difficult one – a lonely one, and oftentimes one where honesty only results in becoming ostracized. I need to somehow accept the fact that although my words may have a positive effect on the world in general, they will most likely have a deleterious effect on my own life.
That is, unless I surround myself with people who understand my needs, my soul, and my passions.
So apparently this writer’s life truly has no positives. Other than relieving this desperate need to create.
Tzahi (who wants me to call him Zach) is a young man from Israel who is currently traveling the United States. He was in New Orleans just as I was leaving, and although we never met, I believe he is heading to San Antonio as we speak. His hopes are to join me on my way to California. No idea how I feel about this – but I was honest with him and told him that my plans are completely up in the air right now, and he shouldn’t rely on me. He was undeterred and said that he will find his way regardless, but would like to think that I would enjoy a companion on the road.
So we’ll see. At least it would be a nice twist in the storyline (isn’t it morbid that as writers we think that way?) Not sure whether morbid would be the right word to use there, but it seemed applicable at the time of typing.
I also wanted to point out that the main person to cheer me yesterday was Kiran, my friend from Hong Kong. He is usually callous and cruel to me, but with a few drinks, lots of sunshine, and lack of sleep, he can apparently be quite wonderful.
Out of respect for, well, everyone, I will leave out some of the more flavorful parts of the conversation, but these are his words (words which I wish to remind myself of):
Kiran: no, seriously, don’t you think you’re yummy?
well YOU ARE loveyou need to hold on to that truthif i were there, i would follow you around like a love sick dog









