Not feeling like much of a writer these days. Feeling like everything I try to say has been said before…or the stuff I think about isn’t really anything I feel like writing about. Mostly, I just like being a hobo again. I haven’t brushed my hair in like two weeks. I have a sunburn. I have sand in all the places it doesn’t belong. It feels so right to be on the road, not knowing where I’m going or what I’m doing, fully accepting of the offer of any adventure. That’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about, just not being too rigid about things…The best stuff seems to happen when I say “yes” to something I hadn’t thought of doing before…or at least something I didn’t see coming.
I don’t feel like writing like they told me to do in English class anymore. I don’t feel like using the thesaurus. Don’t feel like being all careful and deep and all that other stuff. I feel like using the word “stuff” a lot. I feel like being redundant and repetitive. I feel like letting go of all the phony bullshit in general. Tired of retarded politics. Tired of shitty songs on the radio. Tired of commercials. Tired of everyone taking pictures of their “gains”, abs, and butts. Tired of cameras being pointed in the wrong direction, fucking selfie sticks and all that. People who litter. Tired of scumbag guys and hoochie girls who rarely see the beauty in things beyond themselves. Tired of all the pretend shit. Tired of doing things for some kinda payoff or expected outcome, instead of doing things for the pure joy of doing them. Tired of missing the moment. Tired of being told that the sky is falling. Tired of being told how to live my finite and fleeting life. Tired of being expected to be everything that I’m tired of. Just looking for the genuine stuff. Probably sounding all Holden right now, not trying to, just how I feel.
How many times have I heard that “life is short” or to “live each day to the fullest”? Huh!? But most people don’t do that. They just do what they’re told, they suck it up, and all the sudden they are 65 and can’t do half the shit they wanted to do 30 years ago when they got their big career break, or whatever. Fuck a career, fuck school, fuck degrees, fuck voting, fuck all this bullshit money sucking waste of time waste of life shit! I don’t want it. If I did…that would be one thing, maybe it would be worth it. But I don’t want it. I don’t want a mortgage, I don’t want a marriage, I don’t want “smart debt” or “an investment in my education.” It’s all a scam as far as I’m concerned. I am small. My problems are petty. With the recognition of that comes a certain kind of freedom that I’d be no good at trying to explain right now.
Today, I feel GOOD! Today I woke up at 4 am on a sand dune in my bivy that some mountain lion tracker gave me last year. In the past week: I climbed Mt. Belford, I camped by Clear Creek Res., I played on the Colorado Trail, I ran away from a stinging windy rainstorm, walked the streets of BV with a group of deer late one night, I explored Leadville, I visited my aunt and uncle, went for 2 runs in Moffat, I went to the Sand Dunes, I went to Alamosa, I went to the Gator Farm, and I went for a run in Aiken canyon. I stopped to take whatever picture caught my eye. I made videos. I played with a tortoise. I feel clean even though I am filthy and smelly. I feel like I can breathe again!
My aunt took me to this thing called “ladies club” where a bunch of ladies in Moffat and Saguache get together and just tell their stories and help each other out if they need it. They treated it really official and stuff: “old business” “new business” “motion” “second that motion” with a president and a secretary and everything. They didn’t say it was a secret club, so hopefully it’s okay to write about it. They’re all older, health problems, and what not. A lot of them grew up not being allowed to play sports, or got married in a time where it was PC to call raising the kids and cleaning the house “women’s work.” I was feeling kinda depressed listening to everything they were saying. I mean they were all really nice ladies, but it seemed kinda sad. They asked me to share something, I didn’t know what to tell them, so my aunt told me to tell them about climbing peaks. I told them about wanting to finish my last 14ers this summer, and about the adventures I had last summer…And it was like they were breathing air they hadn’t breathed in years! It woke them up to all kinds of stuff they had done and were proud of. Lots of them came up to me before I left and asked me all kinds of questions, and told me how they wished they could give it all up and just GO do all the things they wanted to do. Ultimate freedom. One lady told me about how she climbed to base camp on Everest. Another lady told me about a hike she wanted to do, and how she might finally get the guts to do it.
I don’t have much else to say. Except that I am grateful to my family for being so supportive of all of this. I’m grateful to all the people who understand. They’ve been more than helpful and kind. I can’t give them any hope in regards to me ever living a “normal” life. But I’ll always be willing to get dirty and help them with whatever grunt work they’ve got for me. I know how fortunate I am, trust me, I know. That’s why I feel compelled to do these things and live this way. What a waste it would be if I didn’t!
Grateful for the genuine. Thankful for freedom, magnificent people, rare people, people who really listen, people who have something good to say, quiet moments that ask for no attention but deserve it all, all the things that make me laugh and smile, the accessibility of vast amounts of knowledge. Grateful for my beautiful home: Colorado!