There’s a level of travel that you can achieve wherein you almost cease to exist as you have been known to yourself. I don’t mean it as in a feeling of meaningless, or emptiness, but a sort of new kind of existence takes place. You become just particles in motion, closer in frequency to a ghost or something. You might think what I’m writing is crazy, and if you do, I suggest you grab a backpack and hit the road for a while. And when your body says it’s time to go home, don’t. Just keep going. I promise you there’s a high on the other side more memorable and beautiful than you can imagine.