I want to escape to the farthest place on earth from my life right now.

I don't know what I would do right now if I only had a means to leave without a plan or knowledge of where I would end up. Just a car with the gas money to go without a plan or a definite destination. Yet, that's what I feel I need. To just drive and move. 580 miles per day for weeks without stopping. 580 miles per day to be the farthest from a life of failure that I could ever imagine. To escape it all. To have nothing. To be a nobody. To be nothing. And start fresh. <br><br>I could handle a tiny apartment somewhere in a city far away from everyone I know. I could handle complete silence. I could handle artificial light. I could handle the occasional book and Netflix. I could handle it. It sounds better than this life. <br><br>I don't know what I want. But I know what I don't want. I don't want this. I don't want the 580 miles. I don't want the escape. I don't want the silence. I want to be someone. I want to matter. I want to escape. I want to have a reason to escape. To be nothing. And be somebody. To escape to no one. And be somebody.