Leave no trace of your existence here. My footprints will be swept clean by a strong gust of wind and my scent will be over-ridden by native animals reclaiming their land. The painted cliffs just ahead are making faces at me, and impressed by their ability to frequently change character, I return the favor with a smile. Rain clouds are gaining on me, but instead of making my way back home in a steady pace, I stay seated upon this rock watching the storm roll in.  This morning when I awoke with a mild hangover, I had no intentions to hike into the park by myself, but three hours into…

The stars appear to be passing me by somewhere between here and there. I am laying low in the backseat looking out the back window trying to keep up with the Milky Way. Radio frequencies throw us out of bounds but the grooves in the road keep a constant rhythm hypnotizing my mood. The driver in the front seat is miles away from me until her window cracks and the flick of a Bic breaks my elusive trance. I join her for a cigarette but few words are spoken as she too has drifted away into the depths of our midnight highway. June 4, 2000 (2:32 am) Moon journal

Shake me off like a bad dream, unwelcomed in the early morning hours, a distraction in the quest for sleep. I’ll make up my time in the unsuspecting hours of tomorrow, and you will see me again when there is no one left to see. I’ll be biding my time in your cloudy reality. October 2006, The Black Book