Nothing really.

Alex Supertramp

He sang with a girl who lived at the slabs. He climbed a mountain with a old man. He canoed the Colorado river. He crossed the border. He made it to Alaska only to die in a abandoned bus. He did what his heart told him to do. He lived life in a original way. 

I bet he didn't think that bus would be his coffin. 

ENTER

I read a book that made me think about life. I cried through the entire book if that tells you my condition. 

I have been trying to post something for two hours but cant think of how to tell you how utterly unordinary I am, in a ordinary way. 

My life is a collection of failed attempts to make my own way. Live by my own code. And not follow the mold my fore fathers have made. 

The only rule I ever broke was a rule I made for the purpose of breaking. 

I spend to much time planning things I never would really do. 

I have a rock in my backyard that I stand on and pretend is the peak of some distant mountain that I summited.  

I am a green tree among a black charred forest. 

I have others that love me, yet I never have felt so alone. 

I am who I am. But how do I tell you about me, when I'm still trying to figure out myself.