June 10, 2013
We arrived in Seattle late Thursday night and got into a coed dorm at the Green Tortoise hostel. Friday we went on a walking tour about the city. Saturday we went to the underground passageways which was really cool. We also went up the Space Needle, which was unreal but freaky, again because of my fear of heights. Patrick and I almost didn’t go up but were convinced, and we both stood in the middle. It was awesome but made me feel like I was going to puke and it felt like I was falling even though I was on solid ground. We spent a lot of time at the water front and we went on the duck boat tour, like what they have in Boston. Seattle’s beautiful, but it’s not Boston. It’s smaller than I thought. Boston’s a small town too, when compared to some of the major cities, but it has a kind of European charm that is lacking in the others. I was actually beginning to miss home on this trip, which is unusual. I don’t usually get homesick. I think it’s because the entire time I’ve been struggling not to drink. There was even a bar crawl going on in Seattle and the idea of it…
One of my favorite places was the waterfall gardens. I’m finding that on my trip I’m just constantly trying to find places that make me feel peaceful because I have all this inner turmoil as I’m struggling not to drink. I keep getting this feeling in my mouth too like the need for cocaine. I keep smoking more cigarettes every day. I’m beat up looking from what happened in Texas, so I just am feeling like such a loser. Besides, by the time we got to Seattle, it had been a long time since I’d had sex, and I was kinda craving a blow job. I’d be looking at girls trying to figure out which would give the best blow jobs. I kept this evaluation to myself, of course.
On the way to Seattle, we picked up a couple hitchhikers. It was a male and female hippy couple, but they weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. It made me think of Sweetheart and I wondered where she was and what she was doing, and how the baby was. I don’t even know how many months pregnant she would be. It’s still hard to accept that she left and didn’t even give me a chance to help her or at least try to be a proper dad. What would be weird would be if we ran into her. I think she was headed to either New Mexico or Arizona, but I think Arizona, to stay on a Hopi reservation where a Hopi friend of hers lived. We’re swinging through those states on our way out of California on Route 66.
So yeah we picked up these hippies and they were high as hell and offered us some acid and pot, so that sucked. But when we expressed I was struggling with addiction the girl moved to sit in the seat next to me in the back and wanted me to talk about it. I was uncomfortable because she smelled like pot, and she had this kind of home made dress on made of scarves and she wasn’t wearing a bra. I could see down the dress and when she moved a certain way I could see her nipples. I think she liked that I kept glancing so she would lean to allow the view or so it seemed. She rubbed my thigh and was like, “tell me about your troubles, brother.” I wanted to say that I was horny and she was making me hard and ask her to give me a blow job, but I didn’t.
Meanwhile the guy hippy was snuggling up to Hasty, who at first seemed to enjoy the attention until it became too much. Especially once he told her she had beautiful tits. Well, he said breasts. He said they were beautiful and he went on and on how like nature they were and started talking about milk when I told him to give her some space and change the subject. He was like “yeah, yeah, you’re right.” We dropped them off at the next truck stop to get rid of them. By that time, the hippy girl was rubbing my thighs and talking about the stars and how they speak several languages and dance around in her head, now and again brushing the tips of her fingers over my balls and I was so hard. I kind of relaxed and let her go on and on expecting that this was her foreplay and I was about to get a blow job, but then we arrived at the truck stop. Everyone hopped out including her. She just said, “oh yay we’re somewhere” and hopped out of the van. I couldn’t even move, so I finished the job on myself before I came out. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m not a sex addict too.
In the coed dorm there were a couple girls in there from Germany and they were really hot, and not modest at all. They changed in front of us without any discomfort. I tried to avoid them because it was just too much to handle. I was getting annoyed that much of my trip has consisted of needing drugs or alcohol, or needing sex, and I am just fixated on these things. It’s like I am too distracted to be fully present during the journey. I called and talked to Snow White, Paula, and I even called Emma. Of the three I was least into the conversation with Paula, and that was reality hitting me. I have to end it with her because I don’t treat her right, I take advantage, and that’s obvious to me now. But I’m going to wait and tell her in person because that’s the respectful thing to do. Snow White is just so fucking sweet, definitely a princess, I hope she is really able to come visit. And Emma…yeah she’s my greatest fantasy, and another addiction.
Anyway those hippies were weird but hippies aren’t usually like that. I’ve hung out with tons of hippies. Well, I guess there are some, and these two were pretty out of it so who knows what they’re like when they’re not messed up.
Ok well I guess we’re going to get ready to leave and head to somewhere in Oregon. Hopefully I get laid soon because I’d rather write about our experiences than my fixations. I guess essentially I haven’t tried since Snow White, and with her I didn’t even try because I sensed she was a virgin. I guess I’ve just had no opportunity to try and maybe I blew it here in Seattle. Maybe I could have had the two German girls. Ah, whatever. On to Oregon. I’ve been to Portland before and it kind of reminded me of Boston, but still I like Boston better. “Love that dirty water, oh Boston you’re my home.”
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