I am in a strange mood today. It hasn't been long since I talked to Faith. As has been the norm the past few days, there is something in this equation which bugs me. Perhaps it is just me. I should hope so. I can't identify exactly what it is, but there is something within me that has become somewhat nervous. Even paranoid.

But at the same time, I don't think this has so much to do with Faith as it has to do with an unsettling realization that my life, as it is, has become a farce. Now it is truly time to move on. It's time to fly. It's time to officially stand on my own. And whether I do that here or in Georgia, California, or New York is irrelevant. I have to become a man. That creature I am not, here.

Yes. New York changed many things. I liked being alone. I liked being in a new place. I liked having things to discover. I almost lived up there as if I was on vacation, but it wasn't exactly the same. It was simply being free. Freedom has it's own rewards and brings it's own giddiness. So I've been considering my options.

Faith is an intriguing option. Georgia is an idea....but I can't function on the assumption that everything will work out fine and dandy. There has to be a dose of reality. For right now, at least, Faith is almost a fantasy. She's an interesting lady and I ache to know her and be near her, to touch her and caress her and make love with her, to be her companion and lover, if only for a short time in June. But for now, all this is conjecture and may never even come to pass.

I can't fashion of my life no more than a dream. I have followed that road for too long. Things with Faith will just have to work out of their own accord. And they shall in time. As they were meant to.

But what shall I do in the meantime?

Well, I must still sell my equipment. If and when this check comes from Faith, with which I'll get my phone turned back on, I must have a way of paying her back. I would be able to do this, as well as get my Ampeg bass head working, with the money I would receive from the sale of my gadgets and my 4-track. This would free me from the immediate concerns. I would have a phone again, would owe Faith nothing, and would have a bass amp at last. I could start playing again, and that, in and of itself, would provide a certain security. I've never really made any great concerted effort to achieve the “alpha plan” that I've so often spoke of in the past. I have a little interest sparked in the portraits I'm drawing. That's one phase. Playing would be another.

But even this is just a quick fix. The future would still depend on many different factors. A studio is a pleasant idea. I've mentioned government loans. Maybe I could sell some songs. Maybe I could write some stories. The possibilities are there.

If nothing else, Faith has instilled in me a sense of hope. In blessing me with her pleasure in my music, she has renewed my desire and ambition. She has also made me realize that I really need to be away from all these nay-sayers. I need to be free of the negative jibes. And whether that turns out to be here or in Georgia, or even in some other place, everything will work out for the best.

If I only hold my head high. Call myself a man. And do as my heart guides me.

These aren't all the options considered. But I've found as I've written that I've lost the desire to write. Talk is talk, I suppose. Only time and whatever small determination I might muster can reveal how things may be. Only patience and diligence and save me. And I find that a most desirous thought!

In the final analysis, I must mark that, through the sale of everything non-essential, gadgets, 4-track, keyboards, etc., I will have in my possession a sum of money which would allow me the freedom to set up wherever I pleased. As I've figured, I may be able to put around $1500 in my pocket, after catching everything up. That's not a bad sum to begin with. That would set me up with all the little amenities and allow a grace period of, perhaps, a month or more. In that time other things could be worked out. Who knows? I may even be able to get a loan or a grant from he government.

The point is ... my options are open.