So its been four years. Four fucking years. A lot has happened. A lot of shit. Pretty much all shit. That's not true. Like 50% shit. That is more fair. I am going to use this as sort of a stream of consciousness/journal so if anyone is reading you have an idea. If anyone in my family is reading this, please don't comment or mention that you read this. I would be too embarrassed and it would ruin the authenticity if I decide to write more than this one post, which I hopefully will do. You are welcome to keep reading but I just don't want to know about it as I will think you think differently of me even though I know you don't. Not sure if that makes sense but whatever.
Anyway, a lot of shit has happened and 2015 really sucked. 2016 has been markedly better but I still get extremely depressed sometimes. I know she did me a favor by ending it, and even though I was relieved when she ended it, there is still a part of me that wants that life back. Not that I want her back per se, but that I want to try to relive it before it went sideways to see if I could save it. Most of me feels that I did my best to save it all, but there is still that small part of me...I want the house back. I want the happiness of being a newly wed couple with two dogs. I want that fucking linear life path that I strived for my entire life. I want the good times back.
This experience has forever changed me, as I suppose it should have. I sometimes have this irrational fear of dying young. I hear so many stories of people dying young, even close friends wives and family members. I often think, why not me? How have I dodged the bullet? Or have I? Will I make it past tomorrow? Or will I flip my car multiple times on the freeway? Or will I get a brain tumor? Are these the thoughts of a sane person? Do other people have these same thoughts and fears? I don't know. Its not really cocktail conversation so I don't really know if I am alone here. The only way I keep myself of having a panic attack is to just switch my mind over to something like music and try to not think about it.
This fear though, it has created a small fire inside me to see the world though. Not necessarily in a "travel the world" type way, although that would be cool, but just in a way of not wasting my life with bullshit work and bullshit activities. Or rather, non-activities like sitting on my ass and doing nothing. I want to go camping and hiking and back-packing. I want to take road trips and go overlanding in my 4Runner with Kingsley. I want to see the world. I want to experience the Earth. I want to experience....period. I don't want to look back in 30 or 40 years and say,"Well I had a good career. I'm so proud of all that I was able to accomplish professionally." Fuck work. I don't give a shit about it. I need it to pay for the things that I want to do and that is it. Nothing against those that find satisfaction in it, but I just don't. I want to work to live. Sometimes I feel like so many people work to pay for their cars and have their cars so they can get to work. As if it is some sort of awful wheel of misery. Its obviously more than that, but its all consumption. We work so we can consume. Do I need a 55" flatscreen? No, and I especially don't need the 42" in my bedroom. Not that its inherently evil, I just want my life to be more than that.
We all have to start somewhere I suppose, so I hope this is my beginning, or my recording of a beginning that began a couple months ago. More trips. More long weekends. More activity. More living. Its like a quote from one of my favorite movies. "Get busy living or get busy dying."