Big Fish is a good movie. I recommend it… as it’s apparently a movie a few thought I would like to see though no one said it. I did want to see it but only because it was Tim Burton… I knew nothing of the premise which I will share with you now:

Big Fish is referring to a character who was metaphorically a big fish in a small pond. He was bound by the walls that surrounded him. So he left. Like a children’s version of The Matirx 1 — you know there’s something greater out there and you’ve always felt that. Here’s your chance to go and find it.

I’ve been having this recurring thought since watching it. I’m a big fish… in a sense. Though I don’t look at it the same way he was. I’m not a special person, but I am a soul not meant for this life. This life/lifestyle, I’m sorry, is just not for me. There’s something out there, different from here. I want to be like Thoreau. I want to leave it all behind and live in the woods where I live by my own rules and my responsibility is limited to the one and only most important responsibility a living being is meant to have: to survive. I couldn’t do it… not alone. Who’s with me?

No. I must remember that this society and lifestyle is limited to the environment I know so well. I must remember that other areas of the country, of the world, are different from this. I must remember that people are different in their respective areas. Would I be happy in the entertainment industry? Would I be happy in the woods? Would I be happy in Canada? I don’t know. I am too too too scared to do it on my own. For now, at least… — Who’s with me?

The meaning of life is not found in a degree. It’s not found in a paycheck or a promotion. It’s not found in a new car or a new hairdo.

It’s found in this blog. The searching and spelunking, digging deep within yourself and finding out what it’s not. It’s a conclusion no one can answer but yourself. This strange world I am searching for will never come to me. I must seek it out. But the problem is that I’m too involved in this wasteland to get out. I’m buried. As I said, I can’t do it alone.

Even Thoreau eventually grew bored of the woods.