active 2 months, 3 weeks ago • from Tunis, Tunisia
I'm happiest on a beach with the sun on my skin, a cold drink in my hand, and friends on my towel.

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Praha, Czech Republic

Zizkov ���±s a great place for dive bars. The Clown and Bard is a cheap retro hostel close to Akropolis club that is always good for a night out. Pragues a happening place and if youre going there and have any questions about life or travel feel


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Originally From:United States
Currently Living In:Tripoli, Libya
About Me:

I've been a nomad my whole life; never really feeling like I had a home to call my own. I didn’t come from money, or a stable family. At their lowest points, during my childhood, my mother was a drunk, and my father was a meth addict. As a result

I've been a nomad my whole life; never really feeling like I had a home to call my own. I didn’t come from money, or a stable family. At their lowest points, during my childhood, my mother was a drunk, and my father was a meth addict. As a result we moved a lot, I packed a lot and quickly learned how to label, categorize and place my life into used brown boxes from the Piggly Wiggly, and H.E.B grocery stores.

I went to college for acting, and had a relatively successful stage career in New York, and a failed silver screen attempt in L.A. My claim to fame is that Meryl Streep sang over my dead body at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park. It was a part I landed right out of college, and I was certain I was going to be the next Brad Pitt.

Quantum leap three years later and I’m temping at a 2.3 billion dollar hedge fund, on 5th Ave, after a move back to New York, from Los Angeles. I was scraping by in Brooklyn, off the Myrtle/Broadway stop, making $18.00 an hour and paying $700.00 a month in rent.

Quantum leap three months later and they offer to sign me on with a bonus; a really big bonus.

I said yes to the business world and goodbye to my dreams of making it big in Hollywood. To stay creative while selling my soul (I'm being harsh), I began hosting an open-mic in the East Village the first Thursday of every month. This sufficed my need to entertain and stroked my ego just enough to suffer through nine hours a day, five days a week in a cubicle I turned into a set. I played the starring role of Merritt, the handsome, quirky, out-of-place Administrative Assistant.

During my time there, I was allotted two-weeks vacation. I had always loved to travel abroad and had already been to Mexico, Canada, Croatia, South Africa, and Angola by the age of 25. I decided this time I would take a trip to the Czech Republic, to learn a little about my family's heritage. I went to Prague, Brno, and had a quick visit to Beehtoven's hometown, Vienna, Austria.

When I returned to my cubicle, on the 46th floor, I placed a picture of Charles Bridge on my desktop. While drafting expense reports and scanning company presentations I dreamt about peering over its ledge to gaze at Charles Castle once again; to drink at the underground pubs; and to smoke the really good hash that could easily be bought from a man wearing a fanny-pack.

Six months into comfortably living life as a zombie the financial crisis hit. The President gave some bailouts, and the U.S. was saved from becoming ChinAmerica. That didn’t save the analysts I administratively supported though. They were let go for making bad investments on behalf of the company, and I was promoted to assisting the Chief Financial Officer. She was a beautiful French-Canadian, with long legs and dark hair, and she's the reason my heart melts, and my cock gets hard when I hear French being spoken. However, with my promotion came a pay increase, and shortly after that pay increase came my yearly bonus; and that was all bundled together into a giant severance package that I am not ever allowed to discuss in definitive figures.

I was 26, and just got the boot from my onset, imaginary office lover; and as miserable as life lived in a cubicle is, I had begun to adjust to that lifestyle: after work drinks; nice clothes; and good restaurants. My body had become accustomed to waking at six in the morning, going to the gym, and sitting in front of a computer all day, while dreaming of a life abroad.

It was at a turning point in my life. I had a decision to make: Would I return to the cubicle so that I could fulfill a dream of having my own home? Or would I get new headshots, and do what I always thought I would do, if I ever ran into money, and pursue a serious acting career? I debated, going back and forth between the two options weighing the obvious pros and cons of both. My debates, lead me to ask: Why do I truly want to be an actor? What do I hope to achieve by succeeding at this craft? and What does success even mean? Those questions led me to this answer: I want all of my time, and all of my money to do all that I want.

I was so attached to the idea that freedom wasn't possible without some sort of responsibility, or service fulfilled that I almost failed to see that in that moment, that beautiful precious moment of clarity, that's exactly where I was standing. I didn’t need to become a famous actor, or spend the rest of my youth in an office trying to experience freedom so that I might travel the world- I had it.

I became addicted to responsibility at the age of 13, when I entered high school. Having it insured that I would never end up like my father, so I smothered myself in it like mayonnaise on crackers. I joined every club in school that would take me. I put everyone before myself, had my finances in order, and very rarely said no to requests. At the time of the layoff I didn't know who I was, but I knew very well what was expected of me. I was even very happy to live up to those expectations, because it made me a good person. Other people saw me as good, and I needed that after walking away from my childhood with very little self-confidence.

After that mind-blowing discovery, of finally having what I had always wanted (time and money), I knew exactly what I wanted to do; I wanted to travel.

Traveling wasn’t just a hobby for me, but a way of life I wanted to live. I wanted to feel free, like I felt when I was on vacation all year long; not just two-weeks out of the year. I wanted to break my addiction from responsibility, and discover who I was without the need to impress others in an effort to make myself feel better. I wanted inner peace.

So, on October 4th 2009, I boarded a plane from Newark airport to Prague with only 3 cares in the world: One, that my grammar was shit and I had enrolled in a program to teach English abroad. Two; that I had an ounce of pot I pinched between my left thigh and ball sack, that I could smell as I went through security. And three, I had no clue what the future looked like anymore.

My advice; don't sweat the grammar, pot, or self awareness. Traveling effortlessly provides them all.

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