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I've been backpacking for about a year straight now, traveling the US doing the Vagabond thing. I've become rather acquainted with the lifestyle, several times now I'm told by random folk and even fellow travelers who remember me even when I don't remember their name that I'm one of the most recognizable travelers they've met so it's getting interesting more and more. As it seems, having a particular style and going as hard as you can, pushing yourself to get out there and meet people and take care of yourself. It's getting harder and harder, the police state slowly sets in and it's interesting to watch how more and more basic freedoms are affronted so often, while at the same time being supported and profited off of by the same who would condone it. Ah, I'm getting away from myself. Stealth camping in towns and cities or even getting out and camping innawoods onna mountain, it's all exhilarating. Once you get going you really only feel content when you're on the move. It seems my life has always been this way, always a constant coming and going. Perhaps it's meant to be this way. I can't imagine life any other way, yet too often the memories of my previous lifestyles creep and I understand the potential for the distractions to pull me under, but then always I'm reminded of the adventure that awaits just beyond the horizon, the constant worlds intersecting and the things I learn on the streets. You ever do psychedelics and feel like you're in a game? This lifestyle feels like the most grindy mmo filled with cats and zombies and tweakers and vampires and flailers and flockas and wingnuts, good times laughter bad decisions singers and actors and average musicians, mornings after and walks of shame- the bartender knows me by my real name.
Tldr do you even live /out/
