There is a strange type of person
Who’s idea of fun consists of hiking
With a full bladder through the heat
With a heavy pack and sore feet
Just to meet an imposter of a toilet.
That type of person is me.
There is a strange enjoyment
Where there is no demand for pleasure.
When the pursuit of comfort at any cost
Becomes as absurd as it already is.
When the work is hard and the days are long
Nobody expects to be happy and joyous
And yet everybody is happy and joyous.
Where the ground is never flat or even
And electric outlets are nowhere to be found
Priorities change, and values shift.
Food and water are communal goods
To be worshiped and celebrated.
There is no ceiling, there are no walls,
Just the world in every direction.
What we own we carry with us,
And we are always willing to share it.
When nobody wears any makeup
And everyone smells like themselves
People are as friendly as family dogs.
Campfires easily outcompete TikToks.
Stories well told are as precious as gold
And jokes repeated never get old.
When all of the sacrifice and suffering
Of our lives are not shied away from
Love and laughter flow like wind and water.
Life is as simple and sweet
as biting into a ripe apple.
The world almost becomes transparent.
Or maybe it’s us that become transparent.
Either way, in simplicity it seems
One can finally see the forest through the trees.