Levi Hunter
Member
"Don't Let Alabama Kill You."
Hullo all.
I'm Levi, 26 year old soon-to-be rubber tramp from Monsanto, AL. So, the beginning of this journey has been four agonizingly long years worth of a mental and existential FUCK coming.
I've been living in the same town since 91, I've tried the college and the work and the bills and everything else society standardizes into the stereotypical 1st world existence, and I've ultimately decided to not. Not any of it. I'm ultimately at the point in life where I'd rather kill myself than get another jahb, and if in going to kill myself (frustrated that I've spent a quarter of a century turning circles in the same place), I'm going to cross the state line to do it. And fuck it, since I'm this far may as well travel the world.
Though I've been settled in the same place I've been about. Various road trips and weekend van dwelling, London, the Bahamas, but the travel bug ultimately hit me when I met my now good homie at a gas station in Gainsville, FL. While at a pitstop on the way home from a college football game back in 2012 (Marching band, mellophone. Go Cocks.) a friend runs in and says "Levi, come here, I've met some guys living your dream."
"'Fuck you mean living my dream?" Curiosity, must observe.
I come to find in the parking lot two musicians who fancied themselves "Snob Dylan", playing tunes off to the side at the truck stop with an organic farmer hanging on. They told stories of hitch hiking and traveling all over, playing their music and just being fucking free. I didn't even know people my age did such shit. I didn't know such shit was even Done. From then on, I was turned.
Breezing through the years, by that point I was post mental breakdown and over the farce we call higher education. My sister turned me in to van dwelling and converted school buses, I endeavored to get my mind and spirit right and expel and exorcise all the fears, assumptions, beliefs etc. of the world around me and the various forms of conditionings I'd been assaulted by and I absolutely bathed in whatever information or action rang as "freedom".
Two years ago, with the help of my father whom I cherish and love, who understands and believes in me and in the world I can build for myself, who yearns for the same (and I will build it for him), we manifested a van, the USS Blüga, a 91 modified econoline e250 with 14k OG miles that time travelled to get to me. Two years on today I am preparing to sail off under the moonlight (cos night driving is clutch) for the long run. And nothing has ever felt more right.
This what I'm doing, is more than just a journey, a road trip, a quest to spread my song. It's a pilgrimage. I'm -tired- of being a squishy, weak, comfortable human so blasphemously far away from the nature of humans and the strength that lies dormant within. I'm over. I want to stand on my own, and fall on my face, get back up, survive, struggle, grow. I invite it all. My mind is in better shape than ever before and here I am four years on, gearing up to go.
As of posting this, I've had and lost several road dog prospects, but just yesterday my younger friend told me that Alabama has been killing him to and that he's thinking about eating a bullet, mixed with tales of another friend start with shooting coke. Fuck. That. Noise. And so I'm taking him with me. He deserves to see the world, to be free.
So that is my introduction.
I welcome and would be most grateful for any words of advice, encouragement, honesty and the like, for I respect and am humbled by those with traveling experience beyond mine.
Levi
suicidebythought.com
Hullo all.
I'm Levi, 26 year old soon-to-be rubber tramp from Monsanto, AL. So, the beginning of this journey has been four agonizingly long years worth of a mental and existential FUCK coming.
I've been living in the same town since 91, I've tried the college and the work and the bills and everything else society standardizes into the stereotypical 1st world existence, and I've ultimately decided to not. Not any of it. I'm ultimately at the point in life where I'd rather kill myself than get another jahb, and if in going to kill myself (frustrated that I've spent a quarter of a century turning circles in the same place), I'm going to cross the state line to do it. And fuck it, since I'm this far may as well travel the world.
Though I've been settled in the same place I've been about. Various road trips and weekend van dwelling, London, the Bahamas, but the travel bug ultimately hit me when I met my now good homie at a gas station in Gainsville, FL. While at a pitstop on the way home from a college football game back in 2012 (Marching band, mellophone. Go Cocks.) a friend runs in and says "Levi, come here, I've met some guys living your dream."
"'Fuck you mean living my dream?" Curiosity, must observe.
I come to find in the parking lot two musicians who fancied themselves "Snob Dylan", playing tunes off to the side at the truck stop with an organic farmer hanging on. They told stories of hitch hiking and traveling all over, playing their music and just being fucking free. I didn't even know people my age did such shit. I didn't know such shit was even Done. From then on, I was turned.
Breezing through the years, by that point I was post mental breakdown and over the farce we call higher education. My sister turned me in to van dwelling and converted school buses, I endeavored to get my mind and spirit right and expel and exorcise all the fears, assumptions, beliefs etc. of the world around me and the various forms of conditionings I'd been assaulted by and I absolutely bathed in whatever information or action rang as "freedom".
Two years ago, with the help of my father whom I cherish and love, who understands and believes in me and in the world I can build for myself, who yearns for the same (and I will build it for him), we manifested a van, the USS Blüga, a 91 modified econoline e250 with 14k OG miles that time travelled to get to me. Two years on today I am preparing to sail off under the moonlight (cos night driving is clutch) for the long run. And nothing has ever felt more right.
This what I'm doing, is more than just a journey, a road trip, a quest to spread my song. It's a pilgrimage. I'm -tired- of being a squishy, weak, comfortable human so blasphemously far away from the nature of humans and the strength that lies dormant within. I'm over. I want to stand on my own, and fall on my face, get back up, survive, struggle, grow. I invite it all. My mind is in better shape than ever before and here I am four years on, gearing up to go.
As of posting this, I've had and lost several road dog prospects, but just yesterday my younger friend told me that Alabama has been killing him to and that he's thinking about eating a bullet, mixed with tales of another friend start with shooting coke. Fuck. That. Noise. And so I'm taking him with me. He deserves to see the world, to be free.
So that is my introduction.
I welcome and would be most grateful for any words of advice, encouragement, honesty and the like, for I respect and am humbled by those with traveling experience beyond mine.
Levi
suicidebythought.com
