So, I was supposed to be writing in this thing more often. Geez…
Anyway, today brought the realization — or the solidification of the realization — that the only thing I want to do is travel and write. I’m not interested in working in an office and watching my unrealized goals fade into memory. I want to write, read and travel. That’s all.
Is it realistic? I think so. As long as I set manageable goals in the meantime, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to peace the fuck out of here in September… and perhaps stay away for a few years.
There’s just so much to see and do. People to meet. Mountains to climb. Rivers to wade through. Sheep to shear. Life to live.
And then, you write about it.