I am headed for Arizona by way of train. I am sure I will be forced to travel through many cities that are not anywhere near Globe, but I suppose that is how it will be regardless of my destination. I am fortunate to have a budget that I can use at my disposal. Jonathon was gracious enough to speak to the department for me, and this has alleviated my mind in some way. If I must be homeless, I might as well be so while on the road. There is little left for me anyway. I must seek out Farragut.

I have become befuddled in my situation. While thinking closely on how I managed to get where I am, I realized that my dependency on the outer world has turned me into a monster, a true Hyde to my Jekyll. I want to be rid of my desires, and to set my feet alight on the path best for my health and sanity, but I am a weak man. As I write this, I am smoking the beginning of a hashish cube I have been able to procure through unusual channels. It is a refreshing air for a man once clean. I wonder if my soul calls out for filth.

I have been perusing several titles that are unusual, even for me, and have found no evidence of Farragut being anything more than a cattleman. I dearly hoped to find some shred of ill-repute about him.

Dear journal, my train leaves in a matter of hours, and I am not certain that I will be in position to write once on-board. I remembered too late that I can rarely do anything while traveling but sleep without suffering the woes of a queasy stomach. All the books I am carrying with me will simply have to wait until I arrive.