This blog's for ME

Almost 25 years old, asking my parents if I can sleep in their bed with them. I had thought I was going to be the 25th Prime Minister of Canada. Things had changed. 10 years later, I was still a scared little boy. The time had come to slap myself awake. One Saturday morning, November 19th, 2009, I declared to the world I would be riding my 10 year-old motorcycle from Vancouver, BC Canada to Rio de Janeiro, Brasil, and back.

The official departure was August 28th, 2010. A group of well-wishers saw me off at 8:03 am.

I arrived in Rio de Janeiro around 6 pm March 1st, 2011.



My return to Vancouver came on July 5th, 2011 about 2:00 pm.

Drug & alcohol abuse, ADD, social anxiety, health, chronic pain, night terrors.

So many concerns. But I am far more interested in this question: Do I have the capacity to make this trip despite all my shortcomings?

My mission: To inspire myself to face my fears, enlighten myself on how all living things can peacefully co-exist, enjoy every moment, and see the world as plentiful and generous.

Go ahead. Call me crazy. Call me anything you like.

I'm out to save my world.



I LOVE YOU ALL



Questions, comments, concerns, threats? Contact me: jason.chapman99@gmail.com


Night Terrors

I've had troubling nightmares that have caused me to yell, scream, and run since i was 6. Now it has softened to a yelp, and a few moments aimlessly walking around the room. Usually dreaming I'm trapped in some other dark house and I can't get out. For the last couple months it has centred around the bike, either being impossibly far away, stolen, or ripped in a million pieces, and me hopelessly lost. Put a fright into the staff at the hostel here a couple nights ago, as the walls only go 3/4 up and paperthin. For me, I'm tired and sore most of the day from the nighttime excertions. So I'm going out to surf again to hell with it life it short i've spent a lifetime worrying about what i'm supposed to be, and what i'm supposed to do, and how much money i'm supposed to make and what girl i'm supposed to talk to, and it's become a miserable mess of wasted time.

My friend Joanne just passed away from cancer, quickly slipping away in days. I'm sure she was thinking she wished she worried more when she was alive.

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