Chapter 1

I wake up on the edge of town. I dunno where I’m going or where I’ve been. But I’m here. I can see the haze of the morning. I look at the telephone poles. I think to myself I should call my mom.

This road is so long. It doesn’t really end and it never really began. A car goes by every hour. Nevermind hitchking, I prefer walking. Hitchhiking requires communication and I’m terrible at that. I prefer to write. The things I like to write about involve myself. I don’t like to share ‘em — no. Too many eyes looking at me, I think.

I keep on walking. I pass a gasoline station. It looks deserted and sad. I look up and see a bird. I wish I was a bird sometimes. Flying around. Taking shits on people’s cars. That would be the life. At the gas station I look for the bathroom. There’s a big metal door that looks like it hasn’t been washed in years. I pull the handle. Locked. I go ‘round front and speak to the clerk.

Bathroom’s locked. You need to buy sumthin’. I ain’t got no money. Sorry.

Fuck. I’m surprised I even have to shit. I haven’t eaten for days. Except for garbage diving. I wish I could be like the birds and shit on people’s cars. Like that gasoline station clerks. Right on the windshield.

Chapter 2

And so I walked out the store. It’s not my nature to speak up. Maybe it oughta be. I dunno. I always expect the worse. Say me and gas station man got into it. I wouldn’t know what to say. I never know what to say. I wouldn’t know how to fight with my words. I don’t want to fight with my words. I just want to outsmart people. I just really wanna outsmart people. Sometimes I really just hate people. They always ruin things. Or maybe I’m the one who ruins everything. I’m tryin’ to think of what to do today. Nothing on the agenda. I feel so lost. Like in my dreams I’ll be driving my station wagon and just crash the damned thing. Right into the brick wall. I feel nothing when I die. Much like I do when I’m alive. I haven’t had a good dream in a while.

Chapter 3

Much like in my dream I wanna have a station wagon. Travel along dusty roads. Go somewhere. Let the wind in. Put my head out the window like a dirty dumb dog.

I walk along the road. It’s much like every other road I’ve ever seen before. It doesn’t end and it doesn’t really begin. I feel like a drifter. A floating thing. That never seems to come back down. Like a birthday party balloon when you were the tender age of four. God damn where did my childhood go. I dunno get your shit together. It feels like I never will.

Chapter 4

I finally get to town. It’s rusty and ragged. I see a bridge. I see a cross. I see a diner. I feel nothing. Why am I so fucking paranoid. Or empty. Just empty. Like a hole in the ground. Like the sky. Like nothing in the Universe ever existing. Like an atheist’s beliefs of God. I gotta back down to Earth. I gotta feel something real again. I wanna.

Chapter 5

I get this sigh of relief. Kinda like a feeling like everything will be okay. I’m not sure why I feel this or where it’s coming from. But for a moment I feel okay. Like my life will turn out okay. Like I won’t be wandering. Like I won’t be drifting. But just living. I’ll have a pack of smokes in my hand. And a real feeling of purpose. And belonging. With this feeling I head to the church. I think about God. I think about me. I think about my place in the Universe. What my mind is trying to tell me. How my consciousness exists. I get all existentialist. I feel like a poser. A low-life. Almost everyone believes in God or some kind of equivalent. I wouldn’t call myself an atheist though. Or even agnostic. I feel something sometimes though. Like when I think about death. I think about my death bed. It’s why I need to do something with myself. But am I? No. I’m just a lonely soul not making nothing.

Chapter 6

I’m outside the church. Looking up at the cross. I look further up. At the sky. At the sun. At God. I am God. I am alright. I am a kid. I am a son. I am no one’s son. Except God’s. I wanna Rest In Peace. Under the heavens. And stars.

Chapter 7

Inside the church I see a piano. I sit down to play it. The bench creaks. It’s so quiet in here. Inside the church it’s so quiet. I rest my hands on the piano keys. I close my eyes. And for some reason I’m able to see it all. I hear a voice. I feel an angel. I feel myself grow wings. My eyes open. I swear I see a spirit. I play a song for them. It’s just me, my hands, and the hands of God.

Chapter 8

I go to the bridge. I walk under it. Where the river is. I look inside. I see myself. I feel like Peter Pan.

Chapter 9

I walk to the diner and sit down. Waitress asks if she can get a drink for me. Coffee. I take out a notebook and pen from my bag.

Chapter 10