July 28. Hitchhiking #3.

Back in Europe. We try to catch a ride to Samara, Kazan, or all the way to Moscow. It has been enough for me. The 23-year old I am hitching with naturally takes the lead and decides what we do without asking me. I like him, but there is something missing. Why do I care? It is not power that I want, it is not respect that I want. I care because what I want is being perceived as…? No, that’s not it. I have other things to do and I’d love to find out what. I need to go on, my road leads to harsh places. I feel it now. I feel who I need to be. How does that sound? Pretty decisive, huh? But in life sometimes people are disappointed and decisiveness melt like snow on an overheated planet. It can be just a short conversation like:
“I want to breath my last breath between your breasts”
-“Your last breath ain’t worth shit.”
and the meter falls to zero. I must stop now: even the virtually infinite amount of space the internet offers doesn’t justify this. It goes on and on, and you read a sentence like How friends form strong knots in the cloth of meaning we drape around our world. Is that what you are waiting for? Impotent metaphores, language that wants to be strong but instead drags itself like a lame donkey from comma to comma. Meaning gets lost before that donkey can reach a period or even a semicolon. I like that picture of the crippled old donkey marching along on the trail of sentences, I mean it’s kind of lively don’t you think. You can almost hear and smell the donkey dung. But that imagination cannot be too lively, or we would be facing a contradiction right here. You might think whatever at this point. And I did it, I did make you yawn didn’t I?
Long story short. We get stuck in Ufa for seven hours, it seems impossible to get a ride. I take the train from Ufa to Moscow after having tea with a young father who is studying in a nearby city.

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