This was written inspired by a Facebook comment. It's been over a year since I've seriously shared parts of my story and a lot of people don't even know how I ended up in Mexico to begin with. So I wrote this, similar to the content I used to share as 
Be me, be born to two agorist parents who didn't know their lifestyle had a word for it.
Get taught that the fun in life comes from side hustles that make you money and the adventures that ensue from that>
Go to school and get brainwashed that your only chance at happiness is college, despite what your childhood adventures tell you.
Meanwhile have the example of your mom, who is constantly breaking laws and hiding from police.
Go to college, realize you just got into debt to go live with the worst from high school (in dorms) and bounce around majors until you realize that college is not for you. Live in constant anxiety of having to pick one thing and get a job until you just CANT anymore.
Become an anarchist and agorist, face opposition on all sides, decide to ghost EVERYBODY. Not everyone deserved it, but sometimes you just gotta go make your own mistakes, and mistakes I make.
Throw yourself into the nonviolent black market. Buy bitcoin, life off grid and grow weed and more. Make hemp jewelry, run an unregulated food businesses.
Move to Detroit for more freedom, find an anarchist community squatting in the hood. Fall in love.
Get arrested because, well, the government doesn't like ANYONE breaking their laws even if no one gets hurt in the process.
Stay in jail, plot my escape. Get out of jail, get my codependant out of jail....make a plan of "FUCK THIS GOING SOUTH" to Mexico.
Have everyone you tell on the way say "You're crazy, you will NEVER make it across the border, let alone be happy in Mexico"
Try to work trimming weed for money, make a little, go to Oregon for "more money". Get stranded in Oregon, effectively a capitalist on a communist property. Live in a tent and shed for 3 months, make a plan to GTFO
Border or bust, literally. Beg your way to the border. Run towards any Mexicans you see because they always unload their pockets. Tell everyone you have a blown engine....because its fucking true. Be homeless in a city where you get arrested for being homeless.
Eventually off the kindness of strangers make enough to get over the border and thanks to a friend get to Acapulco just days before my intended arrive date of my birthday.
Start a new life, new agorist businesses but among a small American clientele in Acapulco surrounded by Mexicans. Move on a mountain, farm said mountain and eventually throw your own international anarchists conference.
Have everything go to hell when codependant from that arrest and former life partner is murdered in a situation where the truth is still unclear even to me. Have the cops steal everything including my two dogs, solar power setup and much more.
Become the most famous woman in Acapulco, in a sad way. Cry with locals in the streets, hide from cops, even fight with cops to avoid being arrested.
Flee acapulco. Start a new life AGAIN. Fall in love, for real this time and freelance hustle my ass to freedom. That's what Im working on now.
