Water.

For No One,
This is the beginning and the end all at once. I've been crawling out of the darkness taking the smells of the soils and injecting them into the marrow of my bones. I'm going on an adventure, beyond physical, more sensual, euphoric relief away from everything that's polluted me. Because I'm tired of waiting for someone to dream the way I dream, waiting for permission to really feel things in a much deeper way than just skimming the surface of what could be oceans. Because I'm fed up, enraged, impatient, passionate, affectionate, idealistic, and as mad as hell. Because I've been tied to Sisyphus' rock. Because I've been rotting, because I've become the worst part of me. I want to feel things passionately, I've wanted it so long. I want to have sex on beaches and on mountains. I want to feel cold, naked and at the same time full of life in dew grass, I want to look at the stars and remember how young we are and imagine seeing the whole world.

I want to make love that really means something, not have it taken for granted, not have it taken away but rather evenly spread out. I don't want the city, I want the trees and the hills, and sunrises, and laughter that echoes through canyons deep. I want to sleep at the base of mountain lakes in Idaho. I want to hear old people tell stories and write them down. I want to travel and not settle. I want so much more than to just move away, I want to be a nomad, the way I always dreamed I would. Why? Why does everyone settle to dream pragmatically when there's so many incredible, beautiful things that call out for something different, something much more than just a room to sleep in? You can see it in the infinite roots of Argentine banyan trees, I can feel it in the moment we were both really alive and acted like animals, because we are animals and we should follow feeling, not logic, we should risk everything on a long shot and not be ashamed of holding that hope in our hearts. Because I truly, madly believe in the love between beings, real love, that goes against the current, that doesn't settle, but burrows deeper, deeper than the idea you think can work. There's so much more than that if you're willing to take it, if you're willing to steal the universe's chaos and live inside of it. Because it's more than a normal life, because it's better, because it can dig deep inside and infect you with only good. But you can't miss the launch, you can't miss that one moment in time that can change everything before it splits and becomes disappointing and leaves everything to denial. You are a tight-rope walker, but only on the rope.

That was love on the beaches and the small, cold shack and the glorious bedrooms. That was love; unabashed, unquestioned, unjustified, confusing, exciting, and risky. And I want that, to rub the back of a sleeping human and have no doubt that it will wake and turn and want to feel in that second the way I do, want me, want to live deliberately, unafraid, naked in a pool of sharks, the ocean in the middle of a new moon night. To take a real risk and fall (without stopping) off of that passion cliff and hope you won't hit any rocks at the bottom. That's what I want, what I've wanted, what I've waited for and I don't care now that I waited in vain for an unshared dream, I'm going to find it, I'm going to take it all the way to Portland and see the west, hop trains and buses from there to California, Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Montana. Ride horses barefoot through vast open spaces. I will shed no more tears and be alive, really alive again because I've waited too long and any more time and I'll whither and the most precious part of my being, my alien soul that cries out for the love of humanity and can do no more but to hope for it and hope that they one day realize will die without ever having the chance to know those sparkling stars in the sky.

I'm ready. I'm ready to really live, above everyone else's life. Because I understand what's really exceptional, and because I'm in touch with everything that has feeling in this place that people seem to have abandoned for imitations of something. I'm not afraid of it, I've just waited, waited for so long to find nothing, nothing existed in it. I want to be free. I want to love deeply without consequence or constant pain. Those things have stifled me, made me dream pragmatically and I can't live that way. I won't settle. I will die on a coffee farm in South America, perhaps alone, perhaps with no one around, perhaps without ever having known the contents of this letter, but at the very least I searched for it, I didn't give up, I didn't settle for less. That's what I want, it's what I've wanted to share but now will do in a way that I never dreamed I would before.

Water has made a new path.