A Man & His Stick Walking The 9: What I Learned Walking 43km

Welcome back to Taiwan.

Transformational Travel Lists Piss Me Off

The 8 Magical Ways Taiwan Transformed My life.

You can trade magical with some other powerful adjective. You might as well throw epic in there somewhere too.

You can trade Taiwan with travel, or some other random country.

You repeat this process about 10 more times in a day, at once per week.

That was my FB newsfeed 3 years ago.

I told you something about me several times now.

If somebody annoys me, it is because of my own believed character flaw.

I was jealous these blogs were getting more attention.

Their blogs deserved the attention.

Ranting Until The Cows Come Home

My mouth could blabber on about this nonsense until the cows come home.

I assume if you are reading this, you probably don't have any cows.

Farmers are too busy to read my blog.

So, you probably don't worry too much about cows coming home.

I'm Going To Tell You a Story

No transformational travel lists.

I still have a story to help you learn what I took away from this experience.

The soggy sand smooshed against the back of my legs.

The tiny waves barely got above my head. I never told anybody this story.

8-7-6....

On this Sunday morning, my friend Nate was 10 feet away.

When I went under the water, I didn't want to come up.

I don't know why I thought not breathing for only 8 seconds would do me in.

I suppose I just thought of the standing 8 count.

On a realistic scale, this suicide thought probably only came in at a 1. Everything was a mess.

This pitiful attempt had another flaw.

Under water, I could still hear her rough voice (My ex) nagging on me to stay out of the water.

At the time, I was too frantic to say no to anything she said.

I couldn't even stand up to her imaginary nagging. How pathetic!

I closed my eyes after I lost this imaginary fight.

I could still see her peeking out the window of our fourth floor window.

While under water, with my eyes closed, I could envision this girl spying on me.

I really was nuts at the time. I'm telling ya...

I lost my 3 second battle with suicide because I couldn't even take this imaginary nagging, and imaginary spying.

After the loss,  I heard another voice.

The voice came from someone close to me.

I could hear her telling me the story when she thought about suicide.

I never thought I would hear that voice in this situation.

My friend Nate knows we went for a swim

Sometimes, you make a difference.

Time healed some wounds.

I masked others with 12 percent beer, and cookies by the bag(s).

Now, I have a great job, material possessions, and I am very happy.

When I was still heart-broken, I thought about doing a bicycle ride around Taiwan.

I wanted to leave notes in Family Mart about beating depression.

I never did the bicycle ride.

I thought this nonsense could be part of my why for doing this walk.

Embrace Porn & Self Help

This stuff about having a why comes from self help videos.

Self help videos remind me of porn.

Everybody watches both.

Few people talk about either.

I found the video about having a why from a self help video guy named Eric Thomas, the hip hop preacher.

You should Google him.

 He's cheezey. I still like him.

People asked me before I left about why I was doing the trip. I shrugged my shoulders and giggled.

I had some why's like the depression issue. I also thought about trying to raise money for stray dogs.

I didn't put forth my best effort in doing anything about it.

With no why, and sore feet, it is no wonder I took the easy way out on Saturday night.

Confession Time....

A few months ago, I returned to Fenggang, my old seaside home.

I made an excuse with the dude on my brocation to drive past my old house.

A brocation is when two dudes go on vacation together.

My heart pounded violently. When I talked, only gibberish flew in between my lips.



I suspected she no longer lived in the house.

I returned to Fenggang a second time.

Fenggang still made me a bit jittery. Fenggang still felt better.

I confirmed she no longer lived  there.

I knew I had to return to Fenggang a third time.

On the third time, I came to heal wounds via my pen and paper.

On the surface, I previously healed those wounds with 22 year olds, 12 percent beer, and cookies.

Before the 22 year olds, 12 percent beer, and cookies, I also attempted to heal windows by finger-painting rocks, and sticks.

Finger painting rocks and sticks gave me a clear indication shit was not functioning correctly.

One night, I even let out a constipated cry.

I imagined tears scattered across my cheek bones.

Nothing came out.

I wanted to put the finger painted rocks on my indoor miniature golf course.

I told everybody I was building this golf course.

I wasn't really building a course.

For fuck's sake, I struggled at building a bird house in woodshop in 7th grade.

There was no way I could pull off building a golf course.

I just didn't know how to justify this weird hobby.

I had to go back and explore Fenggang at least one more time.

Then, I had to syphen the words from my heart to my notebook.

Then, I had try and read what I wrote.

I write sloppy.

Then, I had to try and type what I wrote.

Then, I had to make it clear for you.

Thanks for listening!