Skin-pinch the rubber band off the greenbacks you've saved working for Burns International as a mall security guard, or humping Big Macs for Micky D. Leave a note behind for mom or your significant other or the landlord you're in arrears to, explaining that you've been called by Life to deliver this great thing inside your heart to the human race, and you're going far to give it away. Then head on down to Greyhound where for about 99 dead presidents you can ride the Dog to anywhere in the United States. A sack full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and exactly twelve 500 millegram capsules of Siberian Ginsing will last you three thousand miles with no trouble at all.
Meditation helps too.
Because of a Nevada town called Winnemucka. I can't remember the dump's name, but believe me you'll know it when you see it . . . I'm just jumping off here for a minute to take me a wiz. Well, this is not good, not good at all. They always find something too.