Since my last post, I’ve done a lot of thinking. Since I was a little kid, I have always been enamored with world travel. I loved travel so much that I studied European History as a minor in college because I was so fascinated with people’s adventures, like┬áZhang Qian who traveled the Silk Road and wrote great stories.

Up until very recently in human history, these people would travel from place to place without context. They couldn’t check reviews of Airbnb, press a button on their phone to get an Uber ride, and interact with their families in a moments notice via Skype or wifi-calling.

All my life, I’ve been wanting to travel, but I never had anyone to go with, and I never had the money.

Well, screw it. I don’t have anyone to go with, and I really don’t have the money, but I’m booking a trip to Peru – a destination I’ve always wanted to visit.

It suddenly dawned on me that I am turning 30 in two months, and a tremendous amount of existential dread set in.

How the hell did I get here in this storage room. What…what happened?

Well, the backstory doesn’t really matter at this point. We can’t change our past; we can only ┬áchange the way we perceive it.

I am absolutely done with feeling sorry for myself. I am done feeling like I can’t do something because I don’t have enough resources, skills, or knowledge. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m just done.

I’m challenging myself to travel to Peru alone, trek the Andes and High Jungle with strangers, and just see what happens.

What I have been doing hasn’t been working. Playing it safe got me in a storage room in a crappy town where nothing ever happens in the middle of Nebraska.

I’ve brought my old mindset into a new year, and if I keep doing the same things I should expect the same crappy results.

Today is the day my past self has died, and I’m recreating my identity.

I am a decision.

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