Society

Society is one hell of a drug. It feels impossible to have one foot in and one foot out. One drag leads to another drag...and another...and another...and before I know it, I’m worried that I’ll never have enough or be enough...and all of a sudden I’m worried about money and need more of it and contemplating getting a job and stressing myself out about the meaning of life and then morbidly relieved that suicide is always an option if shit really hits the fan. (Not to worry though, shit has hit the fan plenty and I’m still fucking here and plenty grateful enough to make it through a few more rock bottoms.)

But out here, I don’t worry about money...or not having enough or being enough. The contrast between the two feels like coming off an acid trip. Out here, all the worries of the mind aren’t worries anymore. The thoughts flow like children’s chatter at recess. Free to say and feel whatever and nothing really matters for too long before the wind blows it away and the sun sets and wipes the slate clean on the next rise. 

Off and on grid for the next few days/weeks/months/years...who knows...good to be home.

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