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Journal 3
THE BLACK HOLE OF IMMANUEL KANT
Day 45 Socorro to Bernardo
today: 26 cumulative: 861

I have been stalling today because the wind is blowing. Get used to it, this next few months are going to be windy, but today is a little more than windy, today it is tearing the roofs from houses and tipping over Semi’s on the Interstate. Hiding out in the University trying to write down a few more days but so behind and I will be walking this whole day in the dark. Alissa’s voice is still ringing in my head, that one song. I will take the Interstate, a dirt road goes through the badlands but it wanders and adds many miles and it is a washboard that will make it hard for Cosmo to pull the cart, so I will walk the dreaded Interstate again.

Plastic bag flags stuck to tree branches and trains to the east, leaning into the wind, blowing straight South while I walk straight North. This will be a night of work, but my legs feel strong. There is nothing in-between Socorro and Bernardo except for a woman in a pickup truck who gives me a taco, left over from her dinner. My mind is totally blank today, it really is just a loop of that one song and of her face and of her in bed before she wakes up and going back in my mind to the first days, and going forward to July, will I see her? Everywhere but here, the first kiss, the last kiss, the next kiss. The journey is nothing if I am not here for it. What will I find in the darkness tonight?

Watching a blinking radio tower far I the distance, it never looks closer no matter how long I walk. That’s how it works when you can see your destination, it is better not to look, to crawl inside your mind, to meditate on something quiet, to search for some peace.

To focus on things out there tonight will only make you weaker and frustrated and don’t think about the warm wind tonight, think about ways to hold your self up alone, because you are alone tonight, alone in this landscape, alone in your self. The visible and the invisible. Perceiving of the center of the universe here inside, not out of ego, and don’t think I want to be the center of your universe, but because this is where the senses are, and I have never seen through another’s eyes.

I think Kant said it best when he said,"Space is represented as an infinite given quality. Now, every conception must indeed be considered as a representation which is contained in an infinite multitude of different possible representations, which, therefore, compromises these under itself; but no conception, as such, can be so conceived, as if it contained within itself an infinite multitude of representation. Nevertheless, space is so conceived of, for all parts of space are equally capable of being produced to infinity. Consequently, the original representation of space is an intuition a priori, and not a conception." And I think that sums up tonight’s walk on the dark Northbound lane of Interstate-25.

And when the walk is over it is time to find a place to rest, and it is very, very, cold. "The smoke of my own breath, echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers... my respiration and inspiration....the beating of my heart....the passing of blood and air through my lungs..." Whitman is much easier to process than Kant, but neither Kant, nor Whitman, have quotes about setting up a tent though so here it ends for this day, with me and stiff fingers and frozen breath all sucked into a black hole.