A highway of diamonds with nobody on it

I'm on the 180 bus again after plenty months of not riding.
I think maybe having no wheels to borrow is a freewheeling of it's own kind. There's some kind of release that comes with knowing youre no longer behind the steering column venting your frustrations towards the humanity of the streets and highways.
Sitting on this bus, I can smell driving into Arizona at midday with my mom and Joey, half-drunk mountain dews and candy wrappers strewn beside us the red sands and 110 degree heat just outside our bubble of the car, stretching in the sun long roads that never curve but touch a white house on the horizon. Then running at night towards the lights of Jack in the Box over sagebrush in t-shirts, my mind stuck with thoughts of girls who's names I barely knew...the precious innocence in mystery of foreign love. One girl back home, one up ahead, one to rule them all conquering my young heart. a warm afternoon rainstorm. Downpour of heavy hot drops. Wet jeans and wet hair, rain plants under a grey sky branching out in the daylight of a passing thunderstorm. This is freewheeling. Total obligationless freedom.

I haven't let go of myself in a while. Ive been very contained. and Happily. Elegantly ruffledly happy. it's funny - I wouldve died for freedom not a year ago, and now nothing feels better than to put your shoulder to the wheel and grind away with little thought for the ends.
Something about running to this bus just now at 215 made me let go for the first time in a while and feel free.. and it's a freedom that is rare, useless, frightful, invaluable to know. one I already know.

I've learned that freedom isn't always a good thing. Lately I've cherished having limits - the moment I chose to finish the second run of Elevator, I allowed there to be limits on my freedom; I built walls aroud myself. And you know what happened? In my new jailhouse I got more work done than I had in all my years since college.. I think because I didnt have the freedom to leave I turned inward like a creating rat caught in a cage just grinding away at what I put on my plate in front of me, of what i could get my trapped-up
hands on.

And now? Do I need a break? Maybe. Maybe a taste of freedom is necessary to get back to getting work done. My getting angry the other day is a sign that I do need mild escape. BUT a brief sweet one, so that immmediately after i can trap myself again and be even more productive under all-new pressures. Entrapment again, and again and again. Removing freedom is key. I've known freedom my whole life. I never thought not-being-free would be just as important, if not more.

Still, sitting on this bus I'm instantly free - and since I gave away Princess tonight (the Saturn I've been driving) I officially have no car again for a spell, and this bus ride is likely my first of may new jaunts.

Here's to a good end of the entrapment, a blessed freedom to follow, and even more terrifyingly productive entrapments beyond!

Peace

Mikie

ps- congrats to Joey and Emily. The best kind of entrapment :)