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Feral, Emily Pennington

Wow, this person is disturbed… and not in a good way. Her idea of visiting 62 national parks in a year – admirable. This is where it ends. She spent the vast majority of the time thinking about her relationship with her boyfriend Alex instead of enjoying the experience of what it was. Be honored to be able to visit 62 national parks instead of knee-deep in a job you can’t stand in order to pay the bills. Is this what it’s become with younger generations – mass complaining, feeling sorry for yourself, and then looking to technology and social media to get you out of it? I know a few of the younger generation who actually work their asses off and they tell me the same thing. Some are mostly complainers… they want the world to come to them. Surprise. It doesn’t work that way. Every opportunity in mother nature the author stepped back to sulk and get depressed because her boyfriend wasn’t doing what she wanted him to, or she wasn’t having enough sex with random people as she did in her past in order to be happy. She reveled in her own misery. A very unstable woman obviously with father issues mind-numbingly fixated on him and not being alone. You are missing the whole point of going to national parks – an opportunity to find yourself, and not through your phone. All over the place emotionally is an understatement. She mentally tortured herself daily, trying to hang on to her boyfriend like a lost child looking for love time and time again when it was easy to see he wasn’t interested and knew she was vastly mentally unstable. She admits sleeping with dozen of strangers; too much time on dating apps for someone; crying at a moment’s notice anywhere and everywhere; using sex to feed inner unhappiness. Please get yourself to an institution for some deep therapy… or better yet actually use your great idea of visiting national parks and get yourself alone for a month. Meditate, breathe, exercise, and look inward. Your use of sex, drugs, and your smartphone aren’t the keys to inner contentment.


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