This post has no evidence. It’s not about fitness or health or well being or communication. It’s about my fantasy.

I long to get lost in the world.

I want to follow train tracks on foot into the mountains with no assurance of where I’ll end up.

I want to enter random dive bars in strange countries and order ice-cold beers by pointing at the pictures of the frosty mugs in the otherwise unintelligible advertisements on the walls.

I want to have nobody depend on me for anything.

I want to sleep without an alarm, wake up naturally, then go back to sleep.

I want to take buses and hitchhike and never look at my watch.

I want to find coastal communities that nobody has ever heard of and read mind numbing fiction books on their beaches that I learn absolutely nothing from.

I want to smoke menthol cigarettes sitting on a ski lift, headphones on, listening to Ice Cube’s “Death Certificate,” a snowboard dangling from my feet.

I want to skydive for the first time in a foreign land where the language barrier is so intense, my only directives come in the form of gestures and countenance.

I want to camp in the desert, build fires, eat prickly pears, sip coffee out of a metal cup and not shave for an unreasonably long time.

I want to get in my car and drive without a destination, stop whenever and wherever I feel like it, or just keep driving indefinitely.

I want to sip scotch and play poker until 4 in the morning, then purposefully get in a fistfight if I lose my money.

I want to be totally irresponsible, mindless and selfish.

I long to get lost in the world.

I won’t for now. Instead, I’ll stay my course; I’ll be comprehensively fulfilled and content anyhow.