I'm depressed again. Nothing really major, but its been present for days. I'm not sure what's causing it, although moving out seems to have something to do with it. Not the actual act, but rather the implications. I suppose once I get everything situated around here I'll feel better, but for right now its all a big mess.

Another thing is that I might as well be at home. I live beside Sherry, which is no big deal in and of itself. But I am still firmly entrenched in family. They know my actions. They've known
when Carmen has visited. They've known when she's spent the night. And though they've never really said anything about it, other than some ribbing, it annoys me that what I do is still being monitored, even if that surveillance has more to do with curiosity than interference.

I've been a serious grump lately. I haven't been getting a lot of rest and I haven't been accomplishing anything besides flipping eggs at the cafe. This move was supposed to be the prelude to a great artistic revival and all I've done is sleep and work so far.

But all isn't so bad. I think I'm just bitching a little.

I have a stereo now. That's great. I've really missed the simple pleasure of listening to music without having to devote my un-divided attention to it (as I had to do with headphones). I'm still without a VCR and cable (the TV doesn't have an antenna, so even free TV is beyond my reach).

I also have a little friend now. Beth is moving to Myrtle Beach, so she gave me her cat. He's part Siamese, but looks a lot like a tom. His name, oddly enough, is Simon, and he's made himself right at home.

I guess I need to get motivated. I should start submitting some poetry, at least, though I think that will have to wait until I get the Brother word processor fixed. Most publishers prefer typed pages to dot matrix, so I'll make the next logical step and move into the “professional” world. Of course, I'm also thinking about sinking the money, should I find it, into the daisy wheel printer which comes with that cheap computer system I found in one of the catalogs.

I was turned down for the Discover card I applied for, just as I expected and wanted, so now I can get a free copy of my credit report. That will help to understand where I stand in the grand scheme. Of course, it will take some motivation to get a letter printed and sent out.

I have to admit that I am going to be very comfortable here. I think once I get this place straightened out, and get back into some sort of groove so that I won't feel so bad, I'll get a lot more done, and I'll feel better about myself and the many possibilities.

Maybe that's it in a nutshell.

I came here in the hopes of finding peace and an environment where I could create again. The music is missing again. Or at least the ability to record it. But the desire is there, just as there is the re-awakening drive to write. I started another poem at the cafe the other day, and that fact is profound enough to mention. Its only the fifth or sixth I've written since returning from Florida. It's only a few lines, but there is a beginning in there somewhere.

Who am I,
Twinkling eye ...
The blushing child,
Adrift ...

I like that. For some reason. I've missed the words. I've missed playing around with them. And Jesus ... have I ever missed myself. Hopefully I can find what was lost here in this little world. Carmen says its peaceful here. I like that thought. I have found a peaceful place, if not peace, and that can only be beneficial.

So ... the first move has been made. Now it remains only to be seen whether I will be sitting here in six months, making a similar entry, just as I have made so many in the past. All I know is that things have changed. Rick and Cisie have moved out and I'm not sure where. I told them where I was at and invited them over, but they haven't come. Maybe they've had their hands as full as I, but I really thought they would come by.

Maybe we're all moving on. We all certainly need things which we wouldn't have five years ago. Galloway is a father. Mark is giving up on his music, or at least on playing, in favor of regaining his family. Chris and Gary have just recorded in a studio and are hoping to make a dash for the prize. We all have our little dreams simmering just beneath the surface. And we all understand the odds. But it just seems that we're all contended to exist within those parameters, without regard to the friendships and loves which got us to this point intact. And perhaps one day we'll answer for it. Ties aren't easily repaired once broken. And friendships, once taken for granted, will never be the same again. I'm as guilty as any other, but where I want to regress there is the promise of progress, and that is a paradox which I've yet to make peace with.