Today we got back to Michigan after two and a half months of being on the road. I feel weird. Shannon’s family has been kind enough to allow me to stay with them for the next couple of weeks before we go out again. But being in a house and not playing shows everyday is an uncomfortable feeling for me. I know it’s strange to feel at home in the back of a van. But I don’t really own too much. Even if the only house I own is the back bench in black Ford, I feel a sense of pride in my ownership of that bench.
Anyway, I guess it just feels strange driving my car again. It feels strange not really having anywhere to go in it. I know this probably sounds ignorant, but I feel like I can relate to prisoners who get out after years behind bars, institutionalized and confused. I don’t mean to paint myself in such a tragic light. I am happy and blessed. I have people who love me and people I love. That is what counts. But I feel an obligation to be honest with whoever reads this blog about how I’m feeling and what’s going on in my head. I imagine it’s therapeutic for me to some degree. I think maybe there’s a lesson in there somewhere. Maybe that it helps you cope with your internal struggles when you don’t permit them to remain internal. Maybe that prisoners should get more time outside. Maybe the only lesson is that I am self-focused enough to senselessly ramble on and on about the problems inside me without even acknowledging those outside of me. I guess the ending of this blog is like a Choose Your Own Adventure book. I always loved those.