>>2838159Thanks for posting fag. I’ll use your thread to tell my story because it’s somewhat relevant and it’s late and I can’t really sleep.
>be me, miserable urbanite, black pilled and working for the government >always loved the outdoors but felt trapped in the city>floozies, concerts, hedonism to escape my misery>this went on for years>cheat on my shitty gf with a troon and get syphilis >ah fuck me I hate myself>I hate my life>wanttodie.exe>can’t make mom sad bros>come up with a plan: go on a thru hike and “go missing”>”anon died doing what he loved, he was so brave” they’ll say>plan for a year, save up, buy gear, go on practice hikes>get GPS tracker and pack resupply boxes, whole shebang to make my trip look legit>put everything in storage, leave home and set off on the PCT, starting at the Oregon/Californie border going north>gonna find the perfect spot and jumpInstead I was awed, I was humbled, and I kept on living. I found plenty of beautiful places to say my goodbye to the world, places where it could look like an easy slip or misstep. I would even stand right on the edge, ready for it to crumble underneath me. But it never happened. At first I would keep on going because I wanted to see what was over the next ridge. I had to see the next waterfall, the next peak, climb through the next snowfield, swim in the next alpine lake. I was hiking by myself the whole time. I gave myself the trail name “crybaby” because I would break down sobbing at how beautiful the Cascades were, or how beautiful and simple life could be, and that I took it for granted. I had played around with the idea of being Christian before hiking, but God showed me life was worth living out there. Somewhere between Three Sisters and Mt Jefferson I crested a ridge and fell to my knees weeping and thanking God for my life, for the beauty all around me, and for all of creation. The fact that nature exists and its beauty is evidence of His love for us
