in my 31 plus years on this earth, I can say, I'm not quite sure where my wanderlust completely comes from...my balls and utter asshole persona comes from my mother and father. I've lived, at least in my head, a fulfilling life before the point I even reached 30. Two houses owned, a husband by 20, divorced by 26, a zealous love for pills at 18, first drunk at 14 and bringing food home to help feed the family before 18. People have lived far worst and people have lived far less; none of which is unimportant, its all on how you learn the lessons...
I wander. At some point around 26-27, I had this fantastically lame brained idea that buying an RV and exploring my home country working odd jobs for fuel and food cash, would be a fabulous idea. Being a nomad sounded so romantic and exciting. Bring it on back to the now; me, bored shit less working a desk job at head cellular company, writing over 600 reviews on Yelp.com and starting up to 3 blogs, all to sustain the mind numbing self consuming brain deteriorating rot that had become my life, all from my desk at $20 per hour rate. the point of all this babble? I realized my life is dull and unsatisfying. I enroll in an art school i drooled over in high school, shit hits the fan with the family and i pack up and leave Seattle for the familiar confines of California. More shit hits the fan in useless boring details that don't really matter, suffice to say...I am now...a nomad.
Long story short, I must live the simple life of poverty and do school online until I can get full funding. I am sleeping on couches and floors. Don't cry for me Argentina...er Riverside. It was rough at first but after a few months, you get in a groove. I am embracing this life of nomad, no home, go where I please(literally randomly getting off an exit to drive through a random cute town), see what I want but all for a price...and there is no longer a hurry for me to be in one place anymore.
Life from your trusty modern day steed, the car, is one of long in depth conversations with your soul. You notice more...fresh cut fields through Oregon; the way life coats the green in Washington, a wet organic smell you just want to soak through your very pores; having the ocean's scent carried through a breeze and hitting your senses; randomness on every corner of your ocular view. I've had friends say I'm lucky to have the freedom to up and go, as well as the balls to leave everything behind. This life in a car becomes a rolling motion picture on all four corners of your metal steed. 80+mph becomes the norm, 55-60+mph becomes a crawl. You for tell the best spots for cops. You learn that baby wipes and an iPod are your best friends and you wish that you had a better camera with an amazing lens to capture it all on paper and not just your mind's eye.
Heartless Bastards "Into the Open" has become my nomad theme song:
I just want to go
But I didn't wanna let go
I just want to go
But I didn't wanna let go
And I find myself
In a fleeting moment
Traveling far and wide
To the great big open
Things are coming into focus
Things are coming into focus
I've got wind in my face
And it's getting me on
I've got wind in my face
And it's getting me on
On
All of this time I was searching
Searching for my home
And I discovered
Home is where I am
And I find myself
Here in the meadow
Of a great divide
And in the moment
Things are coming into focus
Things are coming into focus
I've got wind in my face
And it's getting me on
I've got wind in my face
And it's getting me on
On
All of this time I was searching
Searching for my home
And I discovered
Home is where I am
