Silent Country

I went camping this weekend. No not that camping, I mean actual sitting in the woods with a tent, fire, and hot dogs. We sat up till almost 5 and I didn't really sleep until after sunrise. I found myself sitting staring into the fire, thanks in large part to various intoxicating materials, and just pondering my entire existence. For a while the four of us didn't speak, instead we focused on gathering wood, drugs, cigarrettes and alcohol, and keeping our blaze through the night. I hadn't really experienced this before, thanks to leading an entirely redicously sheltered life up to this point, but I found the camp cleansing of the soul. The union of man and nature never felt so strong within my heart, and my brain shouted without words or voice, instead just raging inside my heavy skull. Some of us smacked out, some of us ate hot dogs and smores, some of us found new innovate ways to find timber in the dark, and some of us watched a fire and mourned their grandparents who both passed away the previous year.

I guess that was me, all of them at the same time. I guess that night was more to my life then most others. I guess I found something out in those woods on the hill near the lake. I hope I will change. I hope to find that again, to lose myself in something completely removed from the world I inhabit. I hope for freedom from several of the burdens I harbor through these days and nights. I hope someone else in the camp felt the same.