Some sentimental notes

This trip, while having been planned for a long time, is one of the scariest things I've done. The months weeks and days before I left did not feel any different than the years and decades of the rest of my life, but in my head I knew my life was about to be so different, even if my heart didn't comprehend it. On Sunday, though, everything started to come crashing down: it was so hard to pack, so hard to say goodbyes (I'm not good at them anyhow) so hard to go to meditation, so hard to eat, so hard to finally make myself leave my friends at the airport.

I couldn't help but wonder what I was doing. I have such a great situation in Seattle, with so many people I love, and such comfort. My trip began to feel like a crazy decision, and one that would last for a long, long time. (Reminiscent of Matt's apartment with Peter and Matt, or the long walk down 14th Ave. where we didn't quite make it to the park.) More than anything the anticipation of such a desolate feeling of isolation began to haunt me. Despite all those feelings, despite the surreal day I had, I got on the plane. I immediately began to feel better. Instead of seeing everything I know vanish before my eyes, new experiences would now be coming to me. I continually felt better through the bus ride, the train ride, and the car ride from the train station. But as soon as those new experiences stopped, as soon as I laid down in Louis' apartment for a rest, the feelings of sadness, longing, isolation, and a degree of insanity came back - though I think not as intense as before. I think this emotional vacillation will continue for a while, but I also think my emotions will eventually converge to a more stable state. I'm sure these first few days and weeks will be tough, but I think I will learn an exceptional amount, and grow in ways that didn't really avail themselves in the oh so comfortable United States of America.

Technically speaking, on the other hand, everything is fine. The roads seem exceptionally dangerous, but the people are equally harmless. The electric outlets are the same.

For those who are aware that I lost it, my camera was found, though a bit run over I think, in front of Alison's apartment. At least the pictures are salvaged of that wonderful breakfast.

My backpack is very very comfortable.