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Even in Austin as the grackles cry I miss Austin

Wednesday, 22 March, 2006

Around 6:45 AM, March 22. 1996 I passed that silver cockroach which at that time marked the Northern edge of Austin. I didn’t know what else to do so I abandoned everything I thought I could live without, and piled everything else in my pickup truck and wandered into this city I’ve only read about. I had a place to crash, hope for employment and … I don’t remember how much cash, but it wasn’t an impressive amount.

While the first three digits of the zip code are the same, I now find myself unable to proceed from a city where the measure of a man is the debt he can withstand. I couldn’t imagine where I would be in ten years, or if I would find myself back in the boondocks in a few days.

And as someone pointed out to me, I’ve come full circle. My sole desire is to break the cycle of desperation and loathing I find myself within. Just like it was back home. Of course, I have much more stability and something not unlike security. It helps to be male, white and without legacy spouses or children.

Do I regret either coming here or staying so long? Not really. I’ve been able to explore myself and interests which are all but forbidden, actually forbidden not so much by law or custom, somewhere else. Of course, that’s all over now. I am what I am and I happen to know what that is.

The question comes again: So now what?

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