So, where is Brian?
Brian is on his way to a place where he's isolated and surrounded by natural beauty. The broad vista is life affirming and supportive, without agenda and comforting. No back talk. No crying and whimpering. Totally self-supporting. Nature is like that - people are not. You need not subtract from yourself to please it. It demands nothing from you.
He's been supplied. By who? Who knows...but supplies dwindle. Fish? Sure. Trout or bass, and native herbs. All do-able until late Fall when the plants go to seed, and Winter when they disappear under the snow, the lake freezes and the fish are under a foot of ice - the moment when the novice liberant discovers hunger and interdependence. You DO need human beings. You DO depend on others to help. But who? Where? The past you chucked to live the dream comes swimming back and bites you on the *advertiser censored**. The FBI, every park ranger, every camper, every hunter, every hiker, every beat cop knows your face. So, its theft - if you can find it to do it.
Maybe, a nice, warm place. The heck with Florida. To hell with anywhere that experiences a white Christmas. You've got surviving to do. Some place that's temperate during the Winter with lakes, fish, edible plants, campers you can accost in the night for jelly sandwiches, or hopefully, tofu. Maybe, a little town nearby would be a good source for...whatever. Once you start killing birds for supper, the philosophy of not hurting nature goes out the window. That's worse than saying you're preserving the earth while you're cruising around it sputtering fossil fuel emissions from the back end of your mobile palace. Its going to come down to detestable compromises - the chiseling away of body and mind.
I believe Brian will be found out, the already dissolving dream will be vanquished and his coveted solitude will be lived in a cell, not on a cliff overlooking a verdant, all forgiving, valley of calm.
MOO