Silence creeps in.
All I can hear is the beating of my heart.
Thump, thump, thump.
Ringing in my ears from a loud day at work.
As I lay here, I try to quiet my mind but in the back of I can hear screams of distress.
If I let them swim to the surface it will just be one ******* mess.
Infinite thoughts race through my head and yet at the same my mind is clear.
Cannot speak, cannot think.
I’m blocking off all that needs to be thought about. All that I need to let out.
**** it.
It’s all the same. It doesn’t even matter.
As days go on, friends grow slimmer.
It’s okay. I’m okay with just me.
That’s how it’s always been and probably always will be.
Less people, less worries, and less problems.
Time ticks by I still think of living the nomad life.
Because why? Because why not?
Less responsibilities, less stress.
Less worries, less people.
Living life on the road.
That’s where it’s at.
I think of all the beautiful places
In this world that I could potentially encounter.
I sit here and wonder, do I wait around to see where this life goes?
To see if it goes where I want it to?
Or do I take the secondary option and live free and homeless.
Homeless and houseless but never heartless.
I want to throw my troubles away. Wash them down a creek. Like skipping pebbles in the river, I want to watch them float away.
Would nomad life be what I’ve heard of? Peaceful? Or would it be more difficult than the every day average American life?
Wouldn’t have to go to work.
Wouldn’t have to pay rent.
Wouldn’t have much to pay for.
It would just be me and freedom at the tip of my fingers.
Lonely? Nah. Not really. I’m not the lonely type. Dads the only one I’d really miss.
I sit here and day dream, oh, what would it be like?

#FreeSpirited