I've spent another month away. Maybe traveling is starting to actually
get to me - and maybe I don't really crave the road. Maybe I crave a
home. Maybe I desire all that I've secretly been running from - and
maybe the path is beset before me in a technicolour burn.
I make money. I lose money. I start all over again. What's the point
of it? Disconnecting completely from the grid seems to be more
of a viable solution than living in the pangs of debt and stress.
The summer is almost upon us. May is here. More friends have
disappeared and hermit-ized...but more have emerged. I long for
the dirt road and the oatmeal mornings. I dream of lakes. I wish
for family and friends and campfires - and lifting the weight of
guilt from my tired soul.
The road calls, once again. I beckon.
I go.
