I will be serious one day, and settle down. It’s inevitable really. In reality the odds are stacked against all of us that take life a little less seriously than most. Eventually our brains flood us with hormones and all sorts of other animalistic juices that tell us to live slower, reproduce our genes, and contribute to pensions. We take the safe option, squirrel away the digits that reflect our worth, and stop wandering so much. This seems like too much of a risk to me; gambling on the fact that I wont get hit by a bus, or develop a rare cancer before retiring and howling at the moon. I figure I’ve already won the lottery of life by having been born in the first world with a passport, and a great degree of opportunity. It’s actually all the incredibly fortunate things that I never earned, or even chose to have, that stir these rumblings in my heart. Youthful and noble tremors that have caused me to quit jobs, go to War, and buy dozens of plane tickets to somewhere else. There is simply too much strange shit out there in the world to not stir these emotions, and I am terrified of not being able to experience as many as I can. It was because of all this that I found myself making another rumbling induced decision last August. I had been in South America for 2 months, and I couldn’t muster the nuts to head home. I wasn’t done being a maniac yet. I called a friend, and told him to meet me in San Diego for a road trip back to Canada. His very own rumblings beat out the hormones, animalistic juices, and responsible voices that told him to squirrel away his money. We drove. We farted. We drank too much. We bickered. We talked about dying, and how it scared the shit out of us. It wasn’t life changing, but it was life, and it was real. I wasn’t too concerned with taking photos, and there are some gaps that aren’t important. This was the end, and this is what came of it. — Nick
(Below are some of the photos I took along the way.)

Oceanside, CA pier (below)

Share this Story