What an excellent and brave adventure!For me, it is the threat of danger, the fear of encountering someone. I once handcuffed my wrists behind my back, laid the key on a tree stump, and then wandered off. I walked naked, except for my construction boots, through the woods and up a hill. I had taken a smaller dose of drugs because I wanted to find my way back to the key, but it was enough to fuck up my vision and sense of space. At one point, I was certain there was someone nearby, and I cowered behind a nettle patch. Frankly, I was scared shitless. But no one came, and I eventually resumed my trek. All went well except when I tripped over a tree root and slid down a low ravine. Eventually, I made my way back to the key and went home. A little bruised and scraped, but still excited about the danger, and still hard.
The book is better.I saw this documentary called Carl Panzram: The Spirit of Hatred and Vengeance. And he has to be the most intensely masculine man I've ever heard about. And I really wish I could have been there for all the violence, the rapes, the torture, and murders he committed on others and others committed on him.