Everybody Leave For Mars In Motorhomes

There is something appealing and magical about motorhomes to the commitment-phobic demographic. They awaken in them the idea of a perfect existence that means you don’t even have to commit to a place in which you live.

They embody ideas, fleeting thoughts, yearnings and fantasies about burning all bridges, saying good bye to all for good and starting afresh. And if the starting afresh becomes the mundane, the familiar, they symbolise the possibility of doing it all again and again.

Searching for the perfect, the state of existence you want, of what that entails you don’t yet know. They represent the idea that you can keep travelling, looking and pursuing everything you’ve ever wanted, and that when you do stumble upon it, you can keep it in that state for ever.
It doesn’t matter how long it takes to find that state, because you can exist in the transient searching state until the end of time.

They promise the possibility of leaving everything you’ve ever known and existing with only the ones you love, or alone, if you prefer, away from everything and everyone, totally off grid. But where would we go in our motorhomes?

All of the Earth is overpopulated and you know those annoying people you can’t stand to be around right now? The voids they leave when you leave will be filled by further people when you arrive.

Mars becomes the nearest available wilderness to head to in motorhomes.