diary 47 (july 16)
spend time in la but not much. visit my sister and the ocean. everyone on the street looks like they’re in a heat daze. go south to my favorite part of the trip, hundreds of feet below sea level and over 100 degrees year round where people live in another world along a lake that is receding full of rot. one night we drove toward a hillside covered in wind turbines, hundreds of blinking red lights in the distance like a skyline or something. make it to mexico on a train and to vegas for the fourth of july again. in colorado we stay along a creek and bathe nude, drink a bottle of prosecco in the afternoon. visit the friend who’s been in my life the longest, and the home i lived in til i was 7 that i have hazy little kid memories of. drive along the river though villages in valleys and big ski town resorts. after that most of our destinations are abandoned towns and national parks with lots of nothing in between. endless empty land and passing through tiny highway towns, i wanted to drive in it and space out all day, so much nothing is what i wanted the most. drive to calgary through big neon yellow fields of rapeseed, the city seems like it shouldn’t be there. spent a week on a lake in montana, visited our favorite small town there twice where deer roam around, the community center is abandoned and the yards are full of garbage projects.
