encinitas and the city of angels

i've spent a lot of time thinking about catalysts lately. what they are, how they work, the end result of the process they aid, and where they come from in general. speaking in an obtuse manner, 'life' in itself it a series of catalysts, what we call 'moments' that flare up and force the next one into existence. some are noteworthy, explosive things like the death of a parent or winning the lottery, but even the damnedest fool will tell you the the vast majority are unremarkable to the point that we forget about them by the next morning. 'get out of the road, you lunatic...'
right now i am laying across some very hard, hardwood floor in an apartment in los feliz, california. i have been traveling around this country, off and on, for the better part of a year, am unemployed, and am about one night of being a drunk asshole away from being homeless. i spend half of my time excited about the option of doing what ever i please, whenever i want to and under my conditions. i could hop a train to texas right this instant if i want to. i could sit tight until i wear out my welcome. i could wander out into the desert like a malfunctioning penguin on the ice floes and freeze to death. the other part of these days have been wondering what the fuck i must be thinking.
i don't know what i am talking about. i'm not a writer. i mean, i can articulate, i can string words together, but when i try to write, it just feels like i am 'trying' to write. i end up sounding like an unskilled dipshit. also, in trying to write this, i find that writing makes me feel like a dick. like i am hogging the entire conversation and you can't get a word in edgewise. i hate people like that. but, it's been suggested i document this, that somebody might care about what i have to say. maybe so i can look back on all of it. who knows? first of all, even though i kind of burned my life to the ground, and carry everything i own in 2 bags and took off for the wild west, my travels have been boring. i have worked a steady and completely unfulfilling job for a while until i decided to stop doing that. i caught a comfortable ride with good company up from encinitas and ended up welcomed into an apartment in east hollywood. i have no badass train hopping hobo stories, i haven't fallen in love or gone to jail or 'found myself'. most of my time has been spent hanging out with amazingly cool people drinking beers and talking about enjoyable drunk men topics. i feel grateful beyond words for how wonderful it's all been.