since i was sixteen years old and i made my first trip west to visit my cousin in california, i have believed that travel is one of the most important aspects an individual can foster in their life. but what good is travel if, in the end, we are left only with our thoughts and memories of the places we have visited and the one life that remains to be lived is inside of us, venturing to find out who we are? this is a question that i could answer myself by simply realizing that quite often, most people take the lump sum of their experiences once their days have expired and they look back. if they've traveled or if they haven't, those decisions were their own and they must decide whether or not the life that they led was enjoyable. however, as i said previously, i am most often unable to simply accept the things that are put in front of me so travel, experience, a life lived must inevitably have some point. i wonder if i'm not in the vast minority.

i left missouri in july of this year hoping that i would find something in myself that i had been missing since college. my tumultuous two-year relationship had finally ended and i believed that i needed a complete break from my surroundings, so i paid my tuition and headed to chile to learn how to teach english as a foreign language. i hoped, simply, to lift the veil of inactivity and depression that had been plaguing me since the day i moved to new york some three years prior.

to put faith in running, though, is about as useful as putting faith in your lucky lottery numbers--there inevitably comes a point when you have to stop guessing and accept what is in front of you. travel is a suspension of belief. hoping to find yourself in another country is simply naive.

chile is a beautiful country that has helped me relearn the language that i invested ten years of my formal education into learning. santiago is teeming with life and overflowing with art. the people, once you crack their thick exterior and let your warmth seep into their lives, are quite welcoming. but in the back of my head, i've just never felt that i've belonged here. i can't bring myself to leave, though.


lately, it isn't hard for me to fall into a fit of tears, worried about what the future will hold. when i left missouri i had very little and when i arrived in chile, i sold it all. i have almost nothing here, save the ties and collared shirts that i teach in, my ipod and some shoes. i can't afford to have anything here. when i stop to actually consider my reimmersion into the united states, i am overcome with fear. the hours of an english teacher are not steady, the pay hits just at the poverty line and the hours spent walking from business to business are exhausting. i didn't expect any of this.

people keep telling me, though, that it's a part of life--an adventure. nothing here is stable, not even for the natives. at least i have something to run back to. it's just strange to be working in a place that under normal circumstances i would visit as a tourist and not think twice about once i had left. i'm trying to function, though, and it isn't always easy. it isn't easy to be the best at what you do (after all, i'm a native english speaker) and to receive almost nothing for your efforts save a meager paycheck and the promise of summer. travel, this time, isn't just for fun.

i guess, now, it's accepting the challenge of being a living human being in a place that is, for all intents and purposes, completely foreign and doing my best to make the most of what i'm given. writing costs very little and my thoughts, which abound with the overwhelming amount of freetime i'm given, are free. it would just be nice to know that none of this is in vain, that in the end my struggle will amount to something. for once, i'd just like to stop holding my breath.

i made my first attempt at publishing myself via the blog system nearly five years ago. with a new laptop and a high-speed internet connection in hand, i wanted to supplement the writing i was already self-publishing with musings, ramblings and general banter. besides, many of the other aspiring writers i knew and respected had one so i figured it was only right that i should join the club, too. my one and only attempt to begin a livejournal was short-lived, though, and amounted to one entry.

so as i sit here in chile, waiting to teach my final class of the day, a little hungry and a little bored, i thought that i should deliver my mantra, the reason for starting this blog. it's the right thing to do, right? dispell the myths and say something about how i'm feeling a bit nervous, a bit hesitant. i may or may not keep up with it--it's just something i wanted to try out. not really at all.

the truth is that, after nearly three years of inactivity and a general apathy for anything that i even ventured to write, i've been falling back into a groove. i like the writing i'm doing and people have asked to see it. the only thing is, i can't really go around showing off my journal--it's just too personal. so as i expand my thoughts with the idea of finally writing a full-length, novel-type work, i thought i'd share a little of what i'm thinking. basically, i hope to use this as a venue for fine-tuning my ideas, for getting feedback on the thoughts i'm willing to share.

and whether or not you enjoy it or simply don't care, thanks for reading.

hey joni, put it all behind you.
hey joni, now i'll put it all behind me, too.
these times can't add up, your life's such a mess.
forget the past and just say yes.

tell me joni, am i the one, to see you through?
in this broken town can you still jack in, and know what to do?
i remember our youth, our high ideals,
i remember you were so uptight.
that time in the trees, we broke that vice
we took some steps and now we can't think twice.

tell me joni, am i right by you?
tell me how're you gonna lose this hard luck?
hey joni, when will all these dreams come true?
you'd better find a way to climb down off that truck.

shots ring out from the center of an empty field, joni's in the tall grass.
she's a beautiful mental jukebox, a sailboat explosion, a snap of electric whipcrack.
she's not thinking about the future, she's not spinning her wheels,
she doesn't think at all about the past.
she's thinking long and hard, about that wild sound, and wondering will it last?

kick it.

hey joni, put it all behind you.
there's something turning, turning right to you.
my head burns, but i know you'll speak the truth.
hey!
hey joni, put it all behind you.
hey joni, now i've put it all behind me too.
forget the future, these times are such a mess.
tune out the past, and just say yes.

it's 1963.
it's 1964.
it's 1957.
it's 1962.

put it all behind you.
now it's all behind you.

"hey joni"
-sonic youth

it would be much easier to go through life believing that we are impervious to our surroundings. ignorance, denial, equivocation--there is beauty and simplicity in not knowing, in simply not wanting to know. but i am a hunter, a collector. i seek the why behind the how, the perpetual "because." okay isn't enough for me. i don't just want to get it.

so i demand, i ask, a lot from those that surround me--the select few people in my life to whom i choose to open my doors. to those not asking or to those that i cannot grant access, it seems unfair, my system of expectations. but it is mine, and i stick to it. i give truth when truth is warranted, ask questions when i want to know.

ignorance, for me, is a slow death that i have chosen--for the most part--to eliminate from my life. i may cast people--good people--aside in my process, my quest for knowledge acquisition, but it is only right. i would rather be alone than lie to myself, or to others, and say, simply, that everything is okay.

and i apologize to those that i have left behind, to those that i have hurt in the process. it was really no one's fault.