IDK what the fuck I want from my life, with my life, or about the meaning of life. First I believed in God. I even worked for Him. Altarboying, collecting money for the church, you know the regular, born in Christian hinterland village gig. Wasn’t considered underaged working, it was redemption, because You Know Who ate the apple. But then highschool happened and God slowly faded away. The emptiness was slowly filled by God’s biggest enemy, Woman. I bit the apple and my salvation will now come from pure Love (in other words: I decided to put vagina on the pedestal). No surprise almost every woman I met quickly became The Woman which made approaching them impossible, too much at stake. Combine that with my overthinking nature and you have a result that is closer to zero than infinity. One rejection after another, the abysse slowly creeped back in. This unhealthy view of love was finally broken by meeting that crazy woman (she says I am the crazy one — not sure who is right). This encounter demystified love, however the big philosophical question still stands: What do I want with my life?
A few summers ago I was cleaning bungalows (you don’t wanna know how it is to clean the toilet after somebody had diarrhea and “forgot” to use the f-ing toilet brush) in Yellowstone national park. When you are situated in the seemingly endless stretches of pine trees sitting on the edge of a canyon and listening to the roaring waterfalls of Yellowstone river under the stars shining as bright as you ever saw them, you cannot be anything but awe struck. And all this nature is within your grasp to be explored (when you are not cleaning shit). It is nothing short of majestic to roam alone on barely recognisable trails where the sense of time dissipates. You could very well be a 18th century fur trapper. Nothing, but chemtrails on the sky, signal that you are in the information era. It is just you and the unforgiving wilderness. And if you get lost (which of course did happen to me and my friend on the trail with the highest bear presence) there is a good chance you will not return. Those moments of aloness were also moments of happiness and freedom. For me where there are no humans there is no anxiety, and that is relaxing. This summer I got a job in Banff and I am looking forward to what I perceive might be a similar experience. Maybe this is what I want. A simple, anxiety-free life, with a simple job in untarnished nature. In search of freedom.
Freedom is something you cannot quell and she loves her freedom. Me being around all the time visibly started impairing her in a way that began to make our relationship strenuous, and most pleasurable aspects of our life were fading away or were completely gone. I had a hunch that if I went it would free her and she would be able to enjoy life more. She also, as anybody would be, was displeased with me procrastinating day after day. And I didn’t like it either. Not having something to do sucks. Specially when you know that the main reason is your own lack of engagement. So the optimal solution to both problems was to leave.
Is Canada just escaping from my problems? Maybe. Partially. I like to compare my travels to respawning on a different map location after you have been killed in a video game. If you learn from your mistakes and do better second time around restarting your life is positive and even necessary. (until life headshots you again and you rage quit, and go play the Sims).
