I have found that the car is a tad cramped to write in for long periods of time. And the parks, while open and airy, are full of bugs. Eat N Park seemed to work well, so why not a real diner?
Sadly, the closest I can get, without going downtown, that is open all night: Russitano's. Small, smoky, and their coffee sucks. What more could I ask for? None the less, this is my base camp for the next few hours. Probably for the 1st and last time.
While the place has a dingy charm and life at this hour, it also has a 40 cent refill charge for java. Eat N Park has them beat on price and taste, but at the moment, I just need it to keep me awake. So bring on the bitter brown water.
Tomorrow will bring more of the same, trying out yet another place to burn the earlier hours of the day. Just a booth to fill and wait for the sun to rise as I write. A place to be other than in the car or on the road. It seems that the the police don't really like idol cars between the hours 1-4 am.
Most of the time there is nothing technically illegal about sleeping in a car in a lot, or public area. But the boys in blue like to check in and its rather hard to get any rest. Learned that one the hard way. Not that I'm bothered by it, I have always been more of a night owl anyway. Ironically the cops also seem to haunt the late night eateries that call to me as well.
Baseless mobility is an interesting experience, and I'm at best, only 2 days into it. Not start. No end. Everything I need, at least in the short term, is at hand, on board and travels with me.
I guess its is just a side effect of packing and leaving. The plan really isn't a plan at all. It develops in front as you make it, random to the highest possible degree. Turn here to stay close of "home"? Or keep going in the other lane - the road out of town in any direction. The questions become complex when one realizes that the reasons to stay tethered seem to be fading.
As bold as it all sounds, little things become major beacon-like issues. A place to sleep is not really a consideration for most. We grow used to the idea that there will always be options. When they disappear we are forced, however reluctant, to make our own.
Now its just my thoughts and I. As tempting as it is to lay blame, one can only be accountable to self, no matter how others may have contributed. However, I left on my own accord. Seeking a mix a escape and redemption that is nowhere in sight, but still the goal in the end. All the while, avoiding the mess of an ordered and heated expulsion. My own weakness saved others the trouble.
All of this gives me time to consider my past and future. Hopefully to see where I have been and how I worked my way into the tangled hell that is now. The result of which has me sitting at a diner in the early morning.
Time to finish this post (written long hand, hours before it will ever see the net), this more than greasy food and gulp down the crappy coffee. After which, a thought problem faces me, that has nothing to do about how to actually upload this post.
The thought is a monster at the core of my nature, that grew in the shadows of the smiles for years. I failed to face it time and again, working only to cover and not to fix. The fallout worse every time. Complicated, yet common but all my own.
How many days to reach a coast?