the death of dean moriarty
march 10th, 2000

i am no longer dean moriarty. some part of me sits back and wonders if i 
ever really was, except in the most abstract sense of the idea, that for 
all my pretense of freedom and wildness i was always, in reality, just a 
tame and docile creature who spent more time at home locked away in her 
room than i ever did on the road with my world packed away in plastic 
bags. there were moments - there are always moments, and moments that 
still exist - but the lfestyle i always craved before completely irritates 
me now, with the total lack of responsibility, or thought for others, or 
shared understanding.

this week...has been amazing. i've learned the value of silence, of 
sitting still, of clean houses, of a certain amount of order, of true 
friends, and of new ones. irresponsibility in spades annoys the hell out 
of me now...those artistic, musician, dreamer friends of mine sadly too 
much absorbed in substances with utterly trashed houses being a fatal 
obstacle course for a little one - with beer bottlecaps, guitars and 
chords and amplifiers loosely propped up, nails and screws and marbles and 
pins - with not one of the six people living in the two bedroom apartment 
thinking to try at least getting the more dangerous objects out of harm's 
way, or to lessen the intensity of their drunken revels to show respect to 
a young mother and her six-month-old baby. and in their heads, that is 
perfectly acceptable. i even would have thought so not very long ago. that 
the creative madness, that all-consuming chaos, was the real reason for 
living. and now, it only disgusts me. i couldn't even sleep at Doug's. i 
left at the crack of dawn, hoping i wasn't offending anyone, but unable in 
good conscience to expose my child to any more of that. i won't be taking 
her back there.

it never ceases to amaze me how much i've changed. going back to 
greeneville is like waking up in the middle of the nightmare anymore. this 
town that used to be the center of my universe is just a place where masks 
have to be worn again, where i would be taught to be ashamed of being a 
single mother, where most of my friends would be ostracized and condemned 
to hell and my beliefs about the universe would never be understood and 
would instead cause myself and my family to become the target of hate 
crimes. i never realized just how totally backwards and in the dark ages 
greeneville was until i left for college. and i realized that as much as i 
love my mountains and my homeplace, i could never go back and live there. 
i could never raise my child in that kind of hate-soaked environment.

and in other lessons - Chris is totally awesome. he is, has always been, 
and will always be the mad professor to me, filling my mind with all sorts 
of metaphysical and philosophical ideas and questions with single 
conversations. and nothing makes me happier than to know that he's finally 
discovered some degree of happiness. and Vernon is a very cool guy. i sort 
of knew him from high school...he had pictures of Eric's baby. the boy's 
named Austin, and totally adorable. i feel so much better about the entire 
situation with Eric now that i've "seen" Austin. apparently Eric has 
changed a lot, anyway, and not for the better.

going to Amber's was just amazing. to finally be able to share the 
experience of motherhood with another new and young mother, to see our 
babies "play" with eachother (or attack eachother inquisitively, as the 
case may be), to be able to feel fully comfortable and relaxed in a social 
situation, knowing that if a thought has to be interrupted to tend to a 
crying baby, not needing to explain, or make excuses, or any of that. and 
there really are so many questions you want to ask other mothers. so that 
was incredibly neat.

and here i am in murfreesboro. which i would go into more detail about, 
but the starfish has just gone back to sleep, and i really need to catch a 
couple of more hours. so...i will expound more on these adventures later.

my days of being peter pan have ended, if indeed they ever existed. and i 
watch the boy who never grew up all along, the man whom the title "peter 
pan" rightfully belongs, watching his games and his wars be painfully 
shattered by the harsh lights of reality. after all, peter pan was never 
supposed to have kids. wendy, tigerlilly, and tinkerbell were never 
supposed to learn how to play together. and how's a pan supposed to stand 
up to any pirates, when he can't even knock another lost boy down?