I love that moment. When you’re on a long car ride, or listening to music, or reading. And you completely zone out. You forget your troubles, and everyone around you. You’re focused on that one thing, and that one thing only. You’re content, and everything seems peaceful.
It’s been forever since I’ve made a post like this.
There’s something that wounds my soul when I think about my best memories at night. It’s a mix of feelings that I’ve never fully understood. Part nostalgia, another part longing, and a dash of sadness.
It’s rooted in the fact that the memories I carry with me are simply that, memories. Whether they manifest themselves in the form of videos I’ve shot, photos I’ve taken or simply the space in my skull and soul that it takes a part of, it leaves me with the reality that no matter how far I go forward, reverse is not an option.
I cherish the nights that I spend being alive. Not just living, but spending them alive. Whether that means throwing marshmallows at touring Danish musicians around a bonfire, sleeping in my car in a Walmart parking lot, sitting on the side of a road hanging off a bridge across the state with a girl I’ve never met, or even looking at photos of all these wild adventure I’ve been on, it leaves me with an air of nostalgia and wanderlust that I simply cannot shake for the life of me.
It’s an odd phenomenon to have the best memories and the most amazing stories eat you alive. “Mad World” by Gary Jules comes to mind.
Only thing I can do is go make more, I guess.
Till we meet again.