27 December 1998

(Light Green Journal Excerpt 4: Spain)

My dad is busily wiping away unimportant streaks on the window of our rental car, saying he can't see. My mom opened the door as he pulled away. 11:42. We should've been gone a long time, but [oops! I forgot "ago"- it should've gone after "time." "Time ago." OK, but back to "but":] people have to pack and people have to wipe the fuck out and crack their nuts on a ramp's coping, or jump off of ski ramps and watch as the snow comes closer and closer to their plastic boots; it's probably yellow through their goggles. On the plane to Madrid, I thought too much. I got caught up in future-thinking. Thinking like this discourages other thoughts, like "gee, I can't fade out a sample on an MPC, oh no, now I can't go into music." I get stupid when I am tired. It looks like I am not going to take the semester off. I guess it doesn't make sense to. I love New York even when I'm tired.

My mom said it seemed like I've outgrown some of my friends. I'm sure that's true for some of them. Parents (well, mine, anyway) are always right. You are your parents. They know you better than you know yourself since they have distance from what makes you who you are. It's like not knowing something until you've seen it change or until you've gotten distance from it. You always see things through whatever spectrum you are using at the moment, and your parents see you change those spectrums. They have seen you grow through all stages- through them. It's hard to write when you are listening to music with words. Your attention is only half-there. Okay.

I thought about after college. That's only a year away as long as I have my shit together and graduate on time! I thought about a couple of things: staying in New York (which is most likely what will happen), moving to San Francisco (less likely), moving to London (likely, but I have no fucking clue where that idea came from). Well, maybe it's from getting so much distance from America to understand it, and wanting to leave because of what I understand. Maybe it's just my desire to keep traveling. London is supposed to be dope, and it is so close to so many interesting places (in Europe and northern Africa). I think I might never be able to settle down. I've got the so-called "traveling bug" - that Sagittarius complex.

I wonder if I'll meet someone this semester. I don't mean someone to go out with once, fuck, and then never talk to again. I mean someone. I think of what that man in India saw in my palm. I wonder what he saw that he didn't tell me. I guess what he didn't tell me is what I'll figure out; or, it could vanish in a wrinkle. I think one thing the trip did for me is shrink the world. The world is tiny- I could be anywhere! Like what I scribbled on red, permanent Sharpie on that lined page while tripping: We are wherever we want to be. Right now, I am with my family- the three people I love the most- winding through tree-coated mountains of Spain.