"You don't want pizza? What are you? A teenage mutant ninja vegan?"

We drove five people deep in a small car for an hour and a half and I'm pretty sure I had a smile on my face the whole time. I kept laughing at random intervals, triggered by memories of internet videos, or inside jokes, or our bizarre behavior, and I ended up laughing very hard, out loud, for no apparent reason. I felt a large swell coalesce in my chest as we drove. The sun was shining, and some unfamiliar indie song was playing and we drove along the country side as I tried to discern the swells purpose. I think it was my whole body and mind collectively sighing as the final clinging elements of depression passed through. (don't worry, I'm not turning into a hippy) For a few moments I felt nothing but positive and content. It's been a long time since I could truly say I felt that. I knew in that moment, as I know right now, that it was transient due to the ephemeral nature of moods and emotion. But I felt it, and that means I'm still capable of feeling that. And so that sigh must of been one of relief. I swam in a pool of water under a waterfall, outside of a small town in Taiwan. I'm not writing that to brag or showboat or showcase my vacation. I'm saying it to myself. So I can put it up there and pull it down every time I need it to cheer me up. I don't need people or scenes or anything to validate me, because I'm an alright dude. Not the best. Not the worst. Not the brightest. Not the dullest. Just another cog, spinning in a giant, confused machine. My grease is travel. What's yours? I swam in a pool of water under a fucking waterfall.