Belfast, Maine.

I haven’t written in a while, and I’m not going to apologize for my absence like I usually do because honestly, what does it matter?

Walking alone the dreary coast is humbling.

Dark and grey, much different from a bright, sandy western beach.

I ‘m looking at all the things that have washed up.

Drift wood. Nylon rope. Glass. Garbage.

Small things in a big pond.

I’m only a week into this family vacation and it has been very humbling.

I wonder where all this shit came from.

How long it was at sea.

How it ended up here.

I compare it to myself.

Driving across the country, through all these towns full of people.

People who are carrying on their lives with no knowledge of who I am or how I feel.

It’s humbling.

I realize that my problems aren’t as big as I think they are.

If I were to disappear off the face of the earth. If this sea were to swallow me up.

If the earth opened and I fell into it. They would keep on going on as if nothing had happened. Not to discount the people who actually know me, I know they would miss me and I would miss them because I love them and care for them as I know they love and care for me. But this world would continue without skipping a beat.

I get so caught up in my thoughts that I get lost.

Speaking with my father as we hurtled our way across America, I realize that he and I are not so different. He’s almost 70 years old now and he tells me that he still lies in bed at night thinking so much that he imagines driving himself mad with his own thoughts. That he has to somehow shut himself off from the inner workings of his mind.

It’s humbling, to know that I’m not the only one.

To know that I’m not the only one who thinks this country is going to shit and that change is a horrifying thing.

His comments on the change out East open my eyes up to what’s going on around me.

The small towns growing. The old restaurants and places we’ve visited so many times before that are gone and changing as the years roll on.

And all people can do is sit back and discuss stupid, superficial bullshit like “Deflategate” or thumb through Kim Kardashians selfie book.

What the fuck are we coming to?

I understand that this is the still the home of the free, as we are indeed free to involve ourselves in what we choose, but goddamn, this is definitely not the place of the brave anymore.

Hiding behind our online falsities and made up personalities.

I’m rambling now, but fuck you.

Remember when the Brady Bunch and Gilligan’s Island were on TV?

When the only drama portrayed was Marsha getting her nose smashed by a football or whether or not Professor was going to be able to build a robot out of coconuts?

Now every channel is littered, like this beach, with garbage.

False identities on reality television, who preach gossip and conflict.

And we worship it, we bow to it, we thrive on it.

The rocks poking through the soles of my boots and my hand rubbed raw from my walking stick are things I cherish. They’re real.

There’s a very big disconnect happening with the human race right now.

 And we’re too caught up in retweets to give a flying fuck.

But wait, you got 50 likes?

Good for you.