travel day two. part 2.

so now i'm on the coast starlight train. it travels up the coast from los angeles to seattle. but i'm getting off at oakland. the sights are supposed to be an unbelievable experience. i used my girly wiles at the ticket counter to snatch a window seat by myself on the ocean side of the train. it's warm here. i can smell the warm weather. and we're passing orchards and vineyards on both sides of the train. outside my window, there are steep hills with deciduous trees sticking out on top. there are hundreds of rows of grape plants parting the hillside.

suddenly we're in a town. the houses are tightly fit together. i saw paul rudd on a billboard. "i am not a role model." in the distance there's a squat mountain. it's gray and blue from the distance. so many powerlines. so many farms. we're close to oxnard.

i think i'm looking at a strawberry farm. wow. it's amazing to see crops in november. i think it may be the effects of sitting in this sunshine but it feels like eden. i'm in a high. the dusty fallen peaches are amazing. wet. smashed. dirty. the palm trees tower over the buildings. the sparse amount of shade beneath them. i see a man reading a book on a mattress near the railroad track. it's touching. there's movement everywhere. i can start a life here! i wouldn't need to leave. i feel loved here. i'm full. i feel full. i feel happy. the train windows romanticize everything i think.

i'm going to look outside for a while now.

we're going through santa barbara now. it reminds me of a less dense santa monica. gigantic palm trees. thick palm trees trunks. like small lighthouses. the houses are all sitting on a hillside. there's sand covering the pavement. and the ocean! it's crashing. clear blue ocean. the rocks are sweating. it's still. the waves are thin green fins. they rise and rush into the small boulders. seagulls. smooth crystal water. i'm fortunate to be here with this rambling ocean. i'm sloughing off old skin. i'm light. i'm sun. my mind is clear. and i feel that fluttering. i'm falling in love. ocean. sunshine. i don't need anyone but myself. i'm in love. it's unbelievable to see california in this way.

now we're at a place where there's very few trees and the view is expansize. my train is traveling on the top of cliffs and hills. i see three large ships. fat gray ships. with thin wirey protrusions like fishing lines. there's one more boat but it's low and long. they're all very far away from shore. it's that time of day when the water is glimmering from the shore. a heron-like bird is fishing near a medium length pier and we just passed a hillside of cattails. they were still and a couple were broken open displaying all that beige fluff. the view is magnificent. i can see the trails of fast moving currents. dark brown seaweed banks float just under the green water's surface. and the current rolls shallow waves onto the sand.

amazing. now the waves are more vicious. angry crashing. the seaweed is left in piles on the beach. and it becomes a sexual rhythm. crash. pull back. hold. CRASH. it's heavy breathing waves. insulting. smashing. intoxicating. i see tire treads in the sand.

my thoughts feel smoother. i'm sitting here thinking about marc and myself. i keep telling marc that i'll be comfortable with dating just him one day. i tell myself the same thing. i'll be different one day! i'll be calm! i'll be another person one day. it sounds insane now. i'm not going to change. i'm not settling down. breathing. i can breath. i feel healthier getting that out. i'll talk to marc in the morning.

now the hills are covered with red and orange creeping plants. irregular patches of sand stand out from the bright fire colored twigs. the ocean below is untouched. it's about fifty feet below our red hills. a terrifyingly steep cliff. and my thoughts wander around the air. i feel like i'm dusting untouched thoughts. purging excess baggage. i hold feelings in too much. i don't say what i want enough. i don't tell people how i feel. something extraordinary is happening. i can't place it. my body is air. i'm glowing. i'm awake.

so we're thirty minutes past san luis obispo. and it reminds me of claire's family. i've come down from my great great high. i feel refreshed. born again. i'm back in my body. everything is new. feminine. masculine. i'm seeing differently. i'll give myself a few days to figure out if everything will sound silly when i re-read it.

my glowing skin. the sunshine was better than a hot shower.