“I now walk into the wild.” With those words, Alexander Supertramp stepped off the grid and into the raw, unscripted wilderness. Jim’s journey echoes that same spirit—trading predictability for purpose, and comfort for clarity. Lessons Learned from a Road Less Traveled is the story of what happens when you stop following the map.
What to Do When You’re at a Fork in the Road: Lessons from the Road Less Traveled
If you’re at that fork, staring down a road you didn’t expect, wondering if you should take the easy path or the one that scares you—don’t do it half-assed. Don’t run home when it gets tough. If you’re going to change everything, then change everything.
And as you go, cherish your friendships along the way. The places will be temporary, but the people are what make the journey worth it. I wish I had held them closer instead of treating them as passing stops on my route.
Because in the end, the road less traveled isn’t about arriving anywhere.
Friendships: What We Were, What We Are, What Remains
A Triptych in Three Voices.
I. The Soul Behind the Shattered Pane: A Villanelle of Regret
II. The Soul Beyond the Shattered Pane; A Villanelle in Reply
III. The Letter I Never Sent: A First-Person Reckoning
I should have taken a left at Albuquerque.
I lay beneath the stars near the Rio Grande, Counting regrets like coins dropped in the sand. A man of motion, hitching truth to roads, Chasing the idea of home, not the house. From Texas Route 90 I watched the border stretch, The sky a velvet vault that told no lies.
A Letter to the Gay's
Frank stood proud, tie crooked, heart blazing: “Gay is good.” It was a whisper then. Now it’s painted on sneakers. He taught us to redefine not just ourselves, but the dictionary.
Sylvia screamed for those no one listened to: “You all better quiet down!” Because silence was killing. Because respectability politics never fed the hungry or warmed the exiled.