Leave the house? Why fucking bother. Create something new? Bleh I have nothing inside. No, I will not answer that fucking phone call or that text or that email or that notification or that anything. I will sleep though…
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It has been 12 months since I began this venture of carving out a section of the interwebs; 12 months of extreme highs, painful lows, crises of faith, depression naps, carb binges, crying jags, paralysis… and I wouldn’t change a thing.
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Does anything ever feel complete? What counts as success? Or finished?
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I love to travel, and more than anything, I love to travel ALONE…
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What’s the point? Why bother? I ask myself these questions often. And yet I keep going...
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