The Looking

I was driving down the Coast Highway (east or west, I don't rightly remember), listening to the Smiths, thinking about all that I've missed..."time is a freight train, it moves too fast," (as per Mr. Dylan), life seems to be a process of remembering and forgetting. I know I lived through the 80's, (plus the 90's and the 00's), but so much is a blur, some key events sort of stand out, but so much, the day to day process of living, is buried deep. You figure it's been recorded somewhere, but most of the time, it's just not available. For some reason, the west coast brings me back to a previous version of myself, when I was 19, I hitchhiked from Chicago to San Diego. I don't know what I was looking for, I was just on the move, when I got to the ocean, I basically just turned back, but, it looms as some kind of significant time of my life. Going back there now, many years later, kind of re-connects me with that confused kid, wandering the highways and byways. I'm still confused, kind of in awe of the world around me, but I'm wearing a few more lines and scars. Again, I basically just turned back, returned to the heartland, sort of changed, sort of the same. I sit here thinking there was some kind of rebirth. Maybe I reconnected some kind of fuse, something I lost along the way. I can't really pinpoint it, but listening to the Smiths now, sort of leads me back to another part of myself that's been in the shadows. I don't know what I'm looking for...maybe I'm just here to do the looking...