I went on the road and found loneliness buried in the sand./I watched my tears evaporate off the sun soaked asphalt./I found something beautiful I never knew.
Finally a thousand miles away from what I know, I struggle not to fall into another well, struggle to not fill to the brim with despair and turn around.
Lost among what I do not know; amidst people who know nothing of me; I try. I try. I try.
I am not some travel blogger here to give you ten tips on cheap travel. Though those people are a godsend, whom I turn to many a time.
I am a poet just trying to tell the truth as my pockets run dry and I live from my mothers funds while ignoring her calls all the same.
Every life has hardships, has setbacks. I try every day to chase the fun, the high, the wonder. I’ve had such an amazing time, but now I have to choose what hardships are worth it.
I am done subscribing to toxic positivity that tells me everything is going to be peaches and cream. But I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying to live in a dream. This marathon I’m running has moments of breathlessness I wouldn’t trade for anything.
So as I sit here and think about cutting my trip short and turning around, going back to the east coast (I’d say going home, but truly there is no “home” to return to), I try to weight the options. weigh the hardships against the beauty. Is it worth sleeping in my car to spend my days hiking mountains through the desert? Are the amazing views just as great when I have no one to share them with? I enjoy my own company more than anything, but after two months alone I wonder how much longer I can live inside my own head.