u/southernhoneyurbexer

I’m just curious to see the consensus on this. Since I got a lot of heat on one of my previous post on here I just think a bigger discussion should maybe be had. Do yall ever solo adventure? How often do yall go alone? I know it’s frowned upon in urbex community as a whole but really how often do yall do it? We all know the risks and dangers I’m just curious. Everyone has a right to do whatever they want and we also have a right to those consequences or rewards from that. I’m not encouraging going on your own I’m just curious.

I’ve made my therapist cry last month. It’s a lonely kind of trauma when I realized I’ve become a burden to the people I pay to help me. I can’t stand the guilt of making one more person sad by my existence. Through my adolescence Ive seen many different shades of scrubs tip toe around me holding themselves together. I remember being 8 and comforting police officers telling them I’ll be okay. And I am. I’m alive and that’s a blessing. I comforted my therapist with lies. I don’t need someone to look past my lies. I know the root of the problems. Apparently It’s obvious to everyone. The tools I’ve learned through therapy have helped but never actually healed anything.

Strangers have.

I have a huge debt to pay to the unhoused and to the fleeting encounters of people at a grocery store. Or the mechanic who fixed my spark plugs last week. Or the man in the laundry mat who recommended him to me. The food truck lady, janitors, cooks who served my food with an extra side of advice. All those “Echale Ganas” or all the “si tu puedes” from them created a kind of medicine. I love these people who don’t know enough to be devastated by me. And I love that I don’t know enough about them to be devastated in return. Just two ghosts passing each other like ships in an ocean.

I don’t have any real addictions but I remember going to AA on accident at my local libraries basement when I was 15. I was looking for an archive room I had always wondered about. I was welcomed and I remember laughing secretly to myself being like “bitch wtf did you just walk into and why are you sitting here eating donuts and coffee” the truth is I hadn’t eaten in 2 days. It was funny but it felt nice. They started speaking and I’m 27 now and I haven’t stopped listening. I’m forever indebted to the anonymous.

And all the unhoused people I’ve met all around the United States and their stories, jokes, outbursts and so on have made me who I am today. All though I’m not much I’ve made it this far thanks to them.

I’ve spent my life bouncing from city to city pouring what’s left of myself into giving back. Live a life of servitude instead of ending it. What a waste to end it right? But I’m exhausted. I feel like I’m at the end of a very loud road.

I don’t want anyone to know me know my name or my story. I want my loved ones to actually loath me. I want them to hate me and never look for me. I want them to hate me so much that my absence doesn’t hurt them. I feel like a wanderer who doesn’t actually want to arrive anywhere. One half of me has such a frantic will to live. To do see and be everything all at once. The other half is exhausted. I never thought I’d make it past 8 I’m okay with not seeing 28.

I’m getting conflicting information on dates and times? Any solid info out there???

Update Yall
Sunday May 17th 2026
@1:30pm
1500 Block Saint Philip

I’ll see yall there I’m working on my costume right now hehe

I hate myself so much for being the one that they chose to let leave. All this pressure is killing me. Im trying to just go to city to city helping where I can. Im trying to do some good. Live a life of servitude. If I end it that ends. What a waste. What a waste. What a waste. What a waste. What a waste. What a waste. I’m keeping my head down making no more attachments. Ending all attachments. I just need to keep moving. If I stop I’ll end it. I’m exhausted but I’m gonna keep going until I’m ashes. I feel so trapped.

I really miss my cats. I’m not gonna lie idc how lame it is since they died I’ve just been losing my fucking mind. I didn’t realize how much I depended on the consistency of them depending on me to live. My cats definitely kept me here longer than I planned too. I loved them and they loved me. I just want to see them again. Even if there is no heaven. Just the slightest chance that I would be in such a state of unconsciousness that I hallucinate me holding them for two seconds that would be so worth it to me. My whole life ending in that fantasy would be my personal heaven.

I hate that people know me. That they know my name or what I look or sound like. I hate hearing my name come out of peoples mouth. I hate that people think of me. I hate that my friends love me. I just don’t want to occupy any space anymore. Emotionally physically mentally whatever.

My birthday is just that. In and out. I don’t want to occupy any other day. I don’t want any other day to be associated with me. The less the better for me and everyone.

I’ve been trying to end relationships and friendships little by little. It’s dramatic but I finally destroyed my laptop. My online friendships were so special to me. No buts. They were special and now it’s over. I’m glad I was able to experience all of them in different ways. I ended so many global connections just now it feels bittersweet. I wish them all the best! Deactivating all my socials from my phone is next. I guess my issue is that I don’t feel bad about it. I’m starting to not feel bad about my choice.

I want them to hate me but I don’t want to hurt them. It would be easier for everyone if they hated me. I keep damning myself and wincing every time i remember they love me. I hate that I made them love me. I want the to hate me so much they never look for me again. I want my friends to loath me.