Believe it or not, it’s a disease

 

     I watched the movie into the wild last night. I watched it alone, out of loneliness and out of boredom. I liked this story. It scares the shit out of me to think of someone with so much freedom. To see this country in all of its glory, to do all of this completely alone… Sure he had met some very interesting characters along his travels but when it came down to sleeping at night to eating to dancing to talking this dude was in fact alone.

 

     I like that idea, I probably think about it a lot less than I used to. But the prospect of no one bothering me or harassing me seems dangerously orgasmic. I used to have these dreams or visions if you will of me alone living off the bank of a mountain deep in the wilderness. A large log cabin: with open spaces and windows overlooking the trees somewhere lost to everyone else but me in Canada maybe. I’d have dogs; Newfoundland‘s their breed name strangely synonymous to the life I would lead.

 

     I used to dream about discovery much like that movie I wanted to see taste and interact with this world in a way that was not manufactured, political or humanity centered. It seemed like the life for me. I could sing loud I could dance naked I could build rustic looking art; I could paint the scenery in a moose hat if I wanted. I would be freed from prying eyes. I could do whatever it is that I wanted.

 

     But all of these things neither negate a certain amount of courage. You have to be ruthlessly ballsy to do anything in the first person. Maybe the rest of us don’t think like I do. I think that every single act requires the ability to lose fear. The majority of humans are crippled by fear, we refuse to take any sudden action because of it, and we sit around and plot around it. We walk into the problem looking for the exit signs. “How can we maneuver around our fears?”