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"Guys. I leave Next Week."

by Megan Blackstone Wark

Guys. I leave next week. I have a lot of feelings, but here's something I wrote a month ago about what's ahead of me: I'm doing the Mongol Rally. My heart will pound with fear and excitement, my chest will feel too tight with the swell of emotions - all the emotions - the anger, the sadness, the frustration, the joy, the wonder, the delight. I will get sick and I will feel closer to death than life. I will be wildly alive and in love with the newness and colors and sounds and faces and the skies. The skies! The clouds, the sunsets, the sunrises, the stars in the black night above me, no ambient light from civilization to dim their brightness. The Milky Way in all its glory making its way across the dome of black above the desert, the steppe, the mountains. I will fight and I will laugh and I will cry and I will be silent. I'm doing the Mongol Rally and it doesn't quite feel real yet, but I know all too soon it will feel too real. (Future me says this has happened) The reality may be overwhelming and I will lean into it - into the fear and the anxiety of leaving behind all comfort and safety nets and known things. The insanity of the undertaking will strike in the first moment of getting behind a wheel on the opposite side and probably stalling out on a road more pothole than smooth. 'Adventure may hurt you, but monotony will kill you,' I'll remind myself when I'm scraped and bruised and collecting stories to last until I'm old. I'm doing the Mongol Rally. I am. Megan. Professional binge-watcher, human muppet. In a body more pillow-like than anything, with a head full of a black disease I'm hoping will be quelled in the face of the unknown. I'm doing the Mongol Rally. Soon. The good, the bad, the ugly - it's all ahead of me and so close. Guys. I leave next week.

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