so i woke up one night laying on a red shag rug in the desert, alone in a 27' trailer with both doors kicked in, 300 miles away from a stoplight and wondering why my eyes were open. Then I puked and figured out I must have choked. All that day I was immeasurably happy.

I'd come to the desert away from pretty much everything through a series of car accidents and mental breakdowns. The story was fairly common in the community of 180 vagabonds, bush hippies and religious families who lived in or around the most remote town in America. More confused vagrant 20-somethings passed through the general store than through most urban anarchist homes.