Maybe it's because I'm old, but I'm running out of care. Like when people I care about threaten to disrespect god's gift of life, when old uncle Joe stumbles up the stairs, and the blackification of America shoves it's self down my throat on TV.
So what happens when you run out? You sit back and take stock of what remains real. You dig down into your core and ask questions, like, what the fuck do you want to do with your remaining time on earth?
And then you do one of two things, sit back and say it ain't worth the effort, and kill yourself, or get your ass moving down the road to a final destiny that makes you fulfilled.
Life is a gift from god. You live it until you die, that's it, end of story, and see a smiling god on the other side. Ending it by your own hand pisses him off and commits you to hell. So I'm going to Boca Chica Beach, that will make him happy!
And where is that you ask? It's way down in the southeast corner of Texas, right on the Mexican border. It's a beach you can drive out and camp on but you better bring your own shit because there ain't no services. You also drive right by a Space-X launch site to get there.
And what about Piper you ask? Steph's got it, she reminded me today that she took care of the girl while I was on that eleven day cruise and the recent road trip back West. Thank you my friend, you get me, and I love you.
My truck is totally striped down, just the bed in the back. I'm not carrying all the normal stuff I ride with because I'm not sure she's going to make it the whole way. After all, I came back from that last road trip and had to put in a junk yard rear-end to just keep moving. Although I must say, she's moving mighty fine! I'm bringing along a backpack that will hold my important shit in case shit goes to hell, know what I mean?
So here I go. I ain't pushing this post out, so if you landed here, you chose to. stay tuned...