It was not as much running away from home as it was running away from society. I firmly believe people are not meant to work until they die. Unfortunately in today’s world that is what is expected.

I enjoyed living on the fringe, in the underground society of American vagrants. It was the first place I felt truly accepted. Like I belonged. It might have been a rough life but it was an adventurous one.

Now I fear I may never love life like I did then. I have tried. Tried the meds, therapy, etc.

But I don’t think I am ill. As far as I can tell the only thing that makes me sick is the chains society straps onto everyone as a price for being a part of it.

At least on the fringe freedom was a given, being homefree was celebrated, and relationships were straightforward and real. People either cared or they didn’t, no pretending. And if someone didn’t like you you would know instead of tge yuppie tendency to hide it.