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Traveling simultaneously simplifies and expands one’s perspective. The opportunities are found all over, if only we are open to allow the experiences to change us. It’s partially the nature vs. nurture again, always the same debate, but it’s true to an extent.

The endless conflict of my home sharpens the art, but it also numbs me from feeling anything. “Art is insignificant, a financially sacrificial net-negative pursuit”, is what I’m told every day. Which is better? Golden handcuffs or Bankruptcy?

I don’t want to travel in retirement, I’ll be too old:
Too old to run or take risks
Too old to be altered by my experience.
Too old to go alone; I’d be dependent on others.
Of course, my mind will also be too rigid in it’s beliefs.

I’ll be dead someday regardless, so I must push myself.