I’m back in Rhode Island now, having just departed New Hampshire where I’ve lived for eleven years. Aside from the recent hospital visit and overall surge of difficulty, a lot is, for better or worse, intuition, stern observation, deduction, extrapolation, forming a picture of what’s really going on, why precisely it’s been so threatening of late. Emotions smolder greatly, yet I was fast eroding, and all the wild and extreme endeavors of the past months, perhaps got dismissed as insanity or something else unfavorable.

 

In any case, it’s all soon to render me mute and immobile then lead me atop the nearest mountain on a frigid and windy winter night for some space and privacy and to weigh options, considering certain women I’ve grown to like and love, among other factors. There I could also survey the city from above without having to hear anything except the really big stuff, intuition arguably well-honed from countless hours spent in natural surroundings over the years, perhaps attuning to the fundamental firmament, the underlying fabric of the world. Was it good, what was going on, or was it bad? One particular piece of news would be exceedingly hurtful to hear, and it appeared to be true, and I truly didn’t need to hear it firsthand, having experienced entirely enough pain and bad news of late. Clearly I needed a vacation and that didn’t involve camping every night along the way.

 

And so I’m here, after a wickedly strenuous trek nevertheless, appreciating the relative calm while also haggled by fears and doubts, was it wise, should instinct and intuition be trusted to such a degree, what if I’m wrong, what if it was conversely good news instead, what if I’ve burned all bridges to greener pastures beyond and locked myself into eternal solitude inescapable, or what if it’s all been up in my head, emotions irrational absurdity alongside?

 

Well it’s been done, there’s no going back now, oh yes I can return, but it will be complicated because, once again, and like a lot of my fellow bus and train travelers, I don’t earn much money (whether this factored into the sudden pariah distancing, even tougher to answer than the previous questions). I can only hope it was the right decision, and make the best of it. It’s temporary, I will be back, and hope for better things when I get there, things that don’t so hound, haunt, consume, overwhelm, hit upside the head in a time of need.

 

I may be able to move here longterm, but to instantly abandon a place I’ve called home for so long, especially when mere instinct and intuition are so heavily involved, is folly and anyone knows it. As for the climbing endeavor, sufficiently justified I hope, tough finding a lot here in the Ocean State, where the highest point is lower than two mountains within ten miles of where I live. And venturing back into the indoor climbing realm, well it’s kinda absurd to do alone, plus instinct says give the place a bit of time, it’ll be better when I get back. Yes that’s the intuition and hope, but as for the realest truth in it, the nitty gritty great and pretty or conversely grotesque and gruesome underbelly, or perhaps something really good for once, time will tell and we will see.