On Starting My Tenth Year in NYC

I've kept a journal off and on for years, though since I've been writing for a living, I haven't been writing much journal stuff. I knew it was close to my ninth anniversary of moving to NYC, and I pulled out the journal from back then to check the date. This is the last entry into that particular journal:

Aug 20, 1996

So this is it --

John D, Johnny S, and J Sho dropped me off. A beautiful last look at New Mexico. As I descended down the ramp to the plane, the full magnitude of what I'm doing hit me.

Holy Shit!
This is crazy.

I realize that I am leaving all facets of security behind. No friends, no home, no family, no lovers, nothing. A dream, though. Some money ($9000) in the bank. My brain, my body, my ability. I am so excited. I am going to make it. This is the culmination of so much.

The plane just started pulling away. My life starts now. I am making my life happen.

24 years old, well, 23 years and 354 days.

So much in this journal is about other people, but suddenly -- yes, it's true, it's just me. Oh what a feeling. So liberating, so desperately scary. It's all about me. Me, me, me. This is how life should be lived.

So I guess I'm going to say goodbye to New Mexico and hello to life. "Hello, life." "Hello, Cody Willard."

I'm gonna' rock this world!

.

Oh, man, I still have so much to do.