Searching.

Recently I have thought of some very disturbing things. Things I very well might put into action. I was thinking that if I still feel the way I do right now by next spring, that I am going to take some warm cloths, a knife, flint and steel, and a book of Robert Frost or Service poetry and start walking. Just walk. With no direction or idea of when I am going to come home. Sleep in ditches and barns and ask for food and toiletries from people I come across. Just walk. Maybe then I could find whatever it is I am looking for. Maybe.