“Go West, young man”

I went East instead. There’s a painting on the wall of my hotel room where I’m staying in Saigon. It looks like it’s from the Southwest of the US. The kind of place you’d see a tumbleweed roll across the flat, open desert. The only moving object you see throughout the whole endless horizon. I hear that lonesome slide whistle from the movies in my mind, but just barely. It’s drowned out by the constant chatter of the city.

I debated on relocating to New Mexico instead of coming out here with all I saved from my job, but decided that moving can wait and travel can’t. I don’t think I made the wrong choice. Although I am wondering if this adventure has reached its natural conclusion. If staying longer would just be a sunk cost of diminishing returns. Ive been in Asia 60 days already. Feels longer than that.

I stare at that painting on the wall again. It looks like freedom. Before I came on this trip, Vietnam looked like freedom. I’m where I’ve dreamed about being for the past year. The final destination on my 3 country journey. Yet, all I want is to be back in America. I don’t wanna go home though. I crave the West. The open expanses of nothing. Solitude. Quiet.

I can’t tell if freedom is the absence or abundance of choices. The absence of choices gives you freedom from choice, but shackles you to the only option you have. On the other hand, an abundance of choices gives you the freedom to choose, but you are shackled to having to choose, as even not making a choice is a choice. I don’t think true freedom exists, but contentment is attainable. Still I chase, still I yearn, for the unattainable.