While driving home from my high school, where I had briefly spoken about my gap year, I realized that I felt somewhat nostalgic about returning. In terms of raw agony and suffering, those years were unprecedented, but although the lows were lower, the highs were higher. [My gap year was better than high school in every way though.] I was also younger, more hopeful, more optimistic, less of a information processing tool. College has killed the young and hopeful thing in me. I have seen it all now. All the god damn systems and frameworks, all the lurking ghost forces that plug into the socket at the back of people’s heads. I’m even getting tired of my music. 

I need this little trip, alone (hopefully there won’t be many out on the trails) on the western-most slice of land in the US, more than I have ever needed it. I need a renewal on my lease. I need death to scare me. I need the cold to bite me. To feel its frosted lips working on the back of my neck.