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The cold wet air hurts my senses, my bones and my mind. I'm fed up, worn out and damn near ready to chew my own foot off to escape this place. I've been here too long and it's dragging me down. Exhaustion has taken over and now that the crazy of summer has drifted away with the warmth, the boredom is killing me, slowly but surely it's taking me down.

I've been sailing two courses over the last year. My primary objective was to ship the boat somewhere semi tropical where I could finish all the little things, Florida or San Carlos. Then I would simply get on my bike and ride it there meeting Sookie refreshed and ready to dive in head first. Simple yes but a few snafus killed my shipping budget, big deal right, I'll just ride and figure out the boat issues in the spring.

I've been having some serious bigger boat itis ever since that beautiful Hess 26 fell into my lap. Not like I'm dumb enough to buy a bigger boat but damn Sookie is so small at times. Ok so I've successfully not made any attempts to move forward with the larger boat, not in the last month at least but now I'm burned out by boaters. So called yachters leaving their dogs shit on the docks, piles of trash everywhere and the bitching and whining non stop for 100 days. You'd think these people actually hate their good fortune to be able to live this lifestyle but maybe they aren't? You can't fit it all into a week or even a month.

Hurricane Irma has rocked my world, I hate leaving Sookie and now it's for a very long time. As usual indecision is pulling against the tide. I don't want I come back here, not to work at least, not to waste any more of my days dealing with all these whiny little bitches. I'm stuck on the tread mill and maybe that's all this bike journey is but I need to get away. My Nikon and iPad, my two most precious belongings aren't making the cut, not by a long shot and thats strike two. Without my camera and a writing instrument my life is without purpose. I try and console myself that a portrait photographer on a solo journey needs no tools. I shoot people not landscapes but still I already feel empty handed.

The boat is nowhere near ready, the bike is as ready as my budget will allow and then there is me. I'm done, I just want to crawl into a cave and sleep it all off, maybe a 3-6 month nap can shake all of this. My constant companion these day is the phrase I have to keep moving or I'll drop. I'm starting to get a bit weird, I'm already bat shit crazy but the neurons are now firing in uncharted waters.

I've done the one thing I never though possible. I've hit my own wall. I hobble around like a crippled man, my body is broken. My mind is mushy and weak. I have to many anchors holding me fast, if I can't let go I'm doomed to go down with the ship.

From the log of Sookie. The dark circles under my eyes have moved into my brain. A world filled with despair is trying to infect me with its mediocrity. There is no such thing as true freedom? That's what they tell me but I am a non believer in such trivial matters as belief. There are two types of people in this world. Those who believe in entities greater than all and those who create a life greater than beliefs.

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