I have a job. Such as it is, anyway. I'll be going all the way to Jacksonville to work for $4.35 an hour. It's not much. It's nothing, actually. But it may be a stepping stone on to other things. Maybe I can find a part time job in the mornings. Or maybe the job at Beacher's Lodge (that of desk clerk) will stay available long enough for me to acquire proper attire.

But however things work out, I'll need to find something part-time to supplement my income. If I am going to leave here, which I may or may not do, I'll need extra cash. And regardless, we may need extra cash to keep our asses afloat. Neither of us are going to be making the kind of money necessary to stay here. Not with each of us just working one menial job. And since Faith can't very well take on another because of the girls, it will only be me who does this. Yet I'm keeping my eyes and ears open for options.

As for the idea of leaving, it has nothing to do with the prospect of working two or more jobs. It has to do, simply, with Faith. As of Monday, I'll have been back for three weeks. Our situation hasn't changed. We've made love once and haven't slept together yet. I think of her exit, just a few minutes ago when she went to work, is a good indication of how things are here for me. Faith left without so much as a glance or a “bye.” She simply walked out the door, got in the car and left, without saying a word. I might as well have not been here. In one way, it seems that she doesn't want me here, and at other times there are little things she says which make me wonder.

If I stay here, can I, or will I have to, live my life taking her feelings as something already understood? Is it enough for her that we are together? Was there ever anything there to begin with? Jesus. I don't fucking know. I never have. I never will, most likely.

All I know is that I am ineffectual. There can be no writing or music. Not now. How can I write a story when all I can think of is Faith? How can I relax into the music when life here is so cold? This is draining me. I find myself here, in this house, with this woman, the very same emotions which had me so goddamned fired up to leave home in North Carolina. There are things to see. There are things to do. There is life to be had, by God! And yet ... here I am ... in Florida ... far from my friends and loved ones, whom I left in search of a better dream.

And I am alone. I sleep alone. I work alone. When I am sitting in the room with them, it's business as usual with the girls and I, but with Faith, you wouldn't know I was in the room. She doesn't look at me. She doesn't talk to me unless I initiate something. And it pisses me off that I am even sitting here dwelling on it.

I'm tired. I am so goddamned tired. I just want to be alone. I want to be left alone. I want to write and to play and to just be. Without regard to what someone else thinks. Without forethought as to whether or not I might be stepping on
someone's toes. Basically, it's this. If I'm going to live in isolation, then I would damn well prefer to be by myself.

Oh, well. Time will tell. I start work Monday. Mom has sent another $100. I had asked her to talk to my Dad, since he had said he would let me borrow a couple hundred before I left, but she changed her mind and didn't call him ... sending the money to me out of her own pocket. A pocket which I have already dipped deeply into. It kills me to take it, but I simply have no alternative. I can't afford to get to work and back everyday without it. But the thing that worries me the most is that I don't know when I'll be able to repay it. At it's best, I'm only looking at bringing home $175-180 a week. With a rent of $750, plus utilities, plus phone bill, plus food ... only God knows how I'll pay her back.

I've found the pictures of Gene Land and his mother which I was supposed to draw. I'm going to finish these and send them to North Carolina for my mom to give to Preacher Land. I'll ask her to keep the $50 fee as a payment on what I owe her. I'm also supposed to draw a picture of Mark and B.J. for Sherry, which I will finish and send up....proceeds of which, of course, will also go to Mom. And who knows? If I play my cards right down here, I might even get a little something going here artistically. Just as things had started to roll in Kings Mountain, maybe I could get them to do the same here or in Jacksonville.

Jesus. I don't know. I don't know or understand anything anymore. I feel like it's time to do something at last, but living here just seems oppressive. Faith is like a shadow sometimes. And there are times when I am relieved when she goes to work. That's sad. It shouldn't be like that. But damn it all. It is.

Still. I hold my head up. And I feel good. About the future, if not about the present. I am here in an interesting state. And possibilities lie before me. So I suppose the only question which remains to be answered is if I will try to grow here. Or I will try to grow elsewhere. Who knows?