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I wish i were a pig

If you want the life of an animal, go read up on texts related to going innawoods. Buy a minuscule plot of land and a camper to live in. Get a PAYG SIM card plan for the internet, a large power bank and fifty or so 5L bottles of water. Stop by a local library or restaurant once a month to charge all of your elecreal womanics, perhaps buy a ruck-sack of some kind as to not draw attention whilst charging everything at once? Fill up your water bottles at whatever well you can find, feel free to bathe in it also. If this isn't possible get the cheapest gym membership possible to do the same. If you've read your texts, you could try to rely on fishing, hunting and the like, but if not simply purchase cheap tinned foods and medical supplements like vitamins. Fund everything through occasional sporadic DoorDash jobs, if of course you haven't set a few thousand aside prior. Lord knows how long you'll be able to live like this hahaha, just some loose thoughts and ideas I've accumulated myself over the past few years of thinking in approximation to yourself. Not the wanting to be a pig part but the wanting to separate and rid oneself of modern follies and tethering hahaha. There's a lot of prerequisites to such a plan, you figure out how to go about it and how to fund it all.
Rumination wouldn't do the persistence of this thought justice.
 
So i could eat food all day and not have any problems in my horrible bitch ass noob life and then die by getting a nail fired into my skull which would hopefully be painless
Do pigs ever have to worry about relationships? Going to college? Finances? Family issues? Well they're incapable of doing that but even if they could they wouldn't. Being a pig is awesome

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I also wish you were also a pig.

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Rumination wouldn't do the persistence of this thought justice.
Imagine this. It's a warm summer morning—5 AM—and you awake in the overcab bed. It’s a new day, and with it comes hunger. You hop down and crack open the small storage box tucked away in the corner of your autocamper. Inside are your fresh clothes, which you set aside for later. You decide to cook something before heading out for the day, so you rummage through the small ice-box and take out your carton of eggs and the fish you caught the day prior. With these ingredients, you toss them onto the pan set atop the portable camping gas-cooker and make an omelette, watching the morning sun rise from beneath the darkness through the small window, which you cracked open not moments prior. The smell of your own caught fish alone making your hunger seem all the more amplified. The hot air from the pan seeping out the open window.

Once you’ve had your fill, you check the clock—5:30 AM. Perfect. After a quick stretch and a brisk change of seats, you’re on the road, heading toward the most essential trip of the week. You pull up beside the nearest, clearest lake. The crackling of stones and the wet moist grass slushing under the tires greet you as you park. The morning call of songbirds fills your ears, just as the newfound sunlight fills your eyes through the windshield. You grab your basket of filthy clothes, an empty 20L bottle, and a small container of soap from the countertop before stepping out into the sharp sun, which is now up as if to creep up on the majority of fellow man. You fill the jug and put it aside for later purification over a campfire or stove. As you do this, your eye catches a young doe. Feeding from the grass at the other end of the lake behind a wall of foliage, experiencing the same morning as yourself through a different set of eyes. With the clothes and soap in hand, you begin to scrub. It’s uneventful, but it’s for your own good, you think, as you lay the sopping wet clothing onto the roof of the camper to dry. “Now, about time,” you finally think in anticipation. With a sharp dive and a quick shake to get comfortable with the newfound temperature, you begin washing yourself. Not a care in the world.

After an hour of swimming about, soaking in the morning sky, breathing the crisp cool air, and basking in the refreshing water as it penetrates the crevices of your face, you exit, now clean and washed. Foolishly, you’ve forgotten the change of clothes and a towel, but no matter—in a moment’s notice you dart in and out with them in hand. Done. You are clean and free to pursue the rest of the day as you see fit. And would you look at that. It’s only 7:30! Will you sit on the wet moist grass, toes in the water, writing your thoughts into a journal? Will you read? Will you grab your fishing rod and make use of the time before those in local fishing clubs catch you stealing their feast without a license? Will you cook and store away foodstuff for future hunger? Or will you simply smile in return for the gifts given to you by the Lord? That is for you to decide. For you are not bound by the restrictions of others, neither their opinions, nor their time, nor their work. Bliss.
 
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Imagine this. It's a warm summer morning—5 AM—and you awake in the overcab bed. It’s a new day, and with it comes hunger. You hop down and crack open the small storage box tucked away in the corner of your autocamper. Inside are your fresh clothes, which you set aside for later. You decide to cook something before heading out for the day, so you rummage through the small ice-box and take out your carton of eggs and the fish you caught the day prior. With these ingredients, you toss them onto the pan set atop the portable camping gas-cooker and make an omelette, watching the morning sun rise from beneath the darkness through the small window, which you cracked open not moments prior. The smell of your own caught fish alone making your hunger seem all the more amplified. The hot air from the pan seeping out the open window.

Once you’ve had your fill, you check the clock—5:30 AM. Perfect. After a quick stretch and a brisk change of seats, you’re on the road, heading toward the most essential trip of the week. You pull up beside the nearest, clearest lake. The crackling of stones and the wet moist grass slushing under the tires greet you as you park. The morning call of songbirds fills your ears, just as the newfound sunlight fills your eyes through the windshield. You grab your basket of filthy clothes, an empty 20L bottle, and a small container of soap from the countertop before stepping out into the sharp sun, which is now up as if to creep up on the majority of fellow man. You fill the jug and put it aside for later purification over a campfire or stove. As you do this, your eye catches a young doe. Feeding from the grass at the other end of the lake behind a wall of foliage, experiencing the same morning as yourself through a different set of eyes. With the clothes and soap in hand, you begin to scrub. It’s uneventful, but it’s for your own good, you think, as you lay the sopping wet clothing onto the roof of the camper to dry. “Now, about time,” you finally think in anticipation. With a sharp dive and a quick shake to get comfortable with the newfound temperature, you begin washing yourself. Not a care in the world.

After an hour of swimming about, soaking in the morning sky, breathing the crisp cool air, and basking in the refreshing water as it penetrates the crevices of your face, you exit, now clean and washed. Foolishly, you’ve forgotten the change of clothes and a towel, but no matter—in a moment’s notice you dart in and out with them in hand. Done. You are clean and free to pursue the rest of the day as you see fit. And would you look at that. It’s only 7:30! Will you sit on the wet moist grass, toes in the water, writing your thoughts into a journal? Will you read? Will you grab your fishing rod and make use of the time before those in local fishing clubs catch you stealing their feast without a license? Will you cook and store away foodstuff for future hunger? Or will you simply smile in return for the gifts given to you by the Lord? That is for you to decide. For you are not bound by the restrictions of others, neither their opinions, nor their time, nor their work. Bliss.
And then a mouse carrying hanta virus builds it's nest in your overhead cupboard, slowly infecting you until your lungs literally start disintegrating and you choke on your own blood on the way out to the outhouse? and you just lay there freezing and thawing for days until your corpse is barely recognizable?
And your best friend who comes out to check on you finds you like that? And then he has to call your mother (whom you never even said goodbye to) what happened to her son?
 
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