Failure Is Not An Option…….

Failure Is Not An Option…….

Put yourself in that position.  The position where none of your old resources and your safety net is of the littlest value. Put yourself in that position.

I was standing on the balcony outside my bedroom moments ago and a weird John McAfee sort of moment crossed my mind. And my thought was, oh….pack my bags and head back to the states (his situation is far more intriguing than the one I thought of).  NO!!!  HELL NO!!!  Should I have to leave Mexico, there’s so much to be seen, rather than throw my dream away.

Living in Mexico isn’t the ultimate!  It is only the start and a portion. The ultimate is to travel and experience all I can…….no looking back, no cowering, no quiting, no going back!!!  Those are not options.

Failure is not an option……..Apollo 13

Failure Is Not An Option

Within my self-sufficiency I can rest, think, and allow my mind to explore my possibilities without the least consideration of my ambition to be a failure.

Self limiting recourse. It’s never a case of not wanting to admit any sort of failure, it’s just a matter of pursuing my dream…..I’m just doing it.

It is tough and it is awkward putting myself in the position that returning is not an option, I want to be safe and secure! While I don’t subscribe to the ‘fatalist’ state of mind, there are some things that are beyond my control. Those I leave to the mysticism of life…..what I can control allows me to seek and do more than I would otherwise.

Selfish you may say.  Hey, it’s my fucking life!!!  It’s mine to live, I don’t get seconds! I lived for others for too long and I perceive that it was an unappreciated time on their behalf by the look of things.  But, that’s not the issue, it’s just my time……

So, failure is not an option and I’m just getting started.  This isn’t the end. And it shouldn’t be.  I’m not in Mexico to live the same life I lived in the U.S.!!!  I’m not! I feel much more like I’m me, than at any time in my life.  I have at hand, all that I want ……all that I want to do, and all that I still want to be.  Until the last breath is breathed, this isn’t over.

Why in the world would anyone want to live the same way in another location?  I don’t get it?  Well, comfort of life.  Comfort leads to boredom. Fuck comfort! Fuck boredom!

Are there still things that are the same??  Yes.  My coffee mugs are the same.

I will not give in, and I will not go back. Not an option.

Peace, Love, and Beaches,



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