Day One Hundred Nineteen:

Day One Hundred Nineteen:

The thing about situations like this is the person telling the story rarely has any real life problems. So you know the person is scared, and running for their life. And you know that they are formulating plans and moving forward towards some goal.

But what you rarely see, what is almost never portrayed is the absolute fucking misery of being stuck in the wilderness if you aren't some type of military trained survivalist. Actually no, I take that back. Because even if you are some type of John Rambo survivalist it is still probably miserable, just maybe a little less so.

Like going to the bathroom. I know, I should be focusing on the fact that something might come out of the woods and devour me but I can't spend 24 hours a day being afraid. So now that I am taking a break to write this I want to talk about going to the bathroom.

Not only is it just awkward to squat down in the woods, but do you know what it feels like to be squatted down with your pants around your ankles and then a squirrel breaks a branch somewhere behind you? It feels like the end of the world. Because in your mind, that isn't a squirrel. In your mind, that is death itself frothing at the mouth with drool running down its chin. So you turn, mid excretion and fall over.

So now, not only are you alone, lost, tired, miserable, and depressed... but you have shit on yourself. And if there is one thing that destroys any last shred of morale you might have... it is shit. If it wasn't for my strange desire to continue writing in this journal I probably would have shot myself immediately after that happened.

Fortunately I can change into some other clothes since I have some in my backpack except, oh wait... no I don't. On the plus side, if I do get eaten at least I won't be tasty.