I was so excited to come home, but after about five minutes I was ready to leave again. Truth is, I can’t seem to be genuinely happy anywhere but on the mountain. Away from everything and society. I hate the direction the world is going; it’s maddening. I hate the fact that my mother misses me, but hates when I’m home because I do nothing but bring her down because of my current lifestyle. I hate knowing the fact that I can’t do what I want to do, which is the following:
Quit school/work and travel the world with someone I care about. I don’t know who that is yet, but that’s what I want to do. I want to go build a house in the woods and live without technology. I want to live two hundred years ago.
I don’t want to live a life where I have to work every day just to survive. My mom hates the fact that I could be perfectly content being homeless, and the fact that it’s a thought that sits in the back of my mind. I hate how dependent everyone in this world is. I hate how if I try not be one of them, I’m told I’m going to go nowhere. I don’t want millions of dollars and to live in luxury. What I want is to be happy. In today’s America, genuine happiness is a rarity. That’s my life goal, to be the 1% that finds it.