My First Suwannee camping trip.
I got the invitation from one of my best friends months in advance, and I still almost cancelled.
It was the first year after some had graduated and started 9-5 lives in different cities with different stories of their own.
For me, It’s a year of trying to cram every last bit of pricey credit hours into my pocket and get out of Gainesville alive.
Who has time to run away to the forest and pretend to be children again when we should all be pretending to grow up.
As my absence of blog posts will show, there’s been little time for adventure.
Being stuck in a realm of transition is something that is equally as scary as it is rewarding.
It’s one of those things that is hard to appreciate until years down the road when people say they’d kill to go back.
For reproduction to occur and new life to begin, awkward transitions in cellular behavior must take place for cells to split and separate. During these stages of meiosis, cells are relatively vulnerable.
If the cells fail to separate properly, nondisjunction occurs creating the potential for various disorders like Down syndrome or Turners to result.
In life, transitions are necessary. And often they are awkward.
If a hermit doesn’t find a proper new pad during his moment of naked vulnerability, he’ll die in his cramped, familiar narrow reality.
A DJ can ruin an entire set with one bad transition, but if he doesn’t take a risk the world would be stuck dancing through one stale and steady existence.
The beauty is that
not having any idea where you’re going to land
means that there is absolutely no limit,
and for now it’s important to remember that it is in fact just that,
I apologize in that I only spent about 15 minutes shooting for this blog post.
I got to a point in my life that I question any reason for touching a camera, and I couldn’t continue choking out readers with my mediocrity.
At some point of watching the smiles paint and fade across the beautiful and scared faces of the people I love stuck in a life of transition, I remembered that it is the weaknesses of people that make them unique.
I’m not the best. But thankfully no one is.
And sometimes it takes running back to the forest momentarily escaping adulthood to remember what it is you wanted to be when you grow up.