I am but one among a vast army of bold adventurers who have chosen between a life of certainty on firm soil, and a life of surprise on shifting sands. We are the troubadours, seafarers, merchants and explorers of our age. We are vagrants and vagabonds. We have no houses: the world is our home. And wherever we go, we envision. We instruct. We construct. We forge alliances across continents and oceans. We beat the drum to the great march of progress.
Marie-Therese le Roux
August 2009
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Clarity.
Dear Universe,
Fine! You win! I get that it was probably not the best strategic move to come straight back home after my epic six month trip to the US. Check mate world. Message transmission completed.
It took me awhile to receive it though. And in the process The Depression has become strong with me. Nine months can really stretch when you don’t have a life. Nine months. NINE LONG MONTHS of trying to stay sane. I have failed miserably. It's significant though, my friend says over coffee. Nine is the number of completion; the time it takes a foetus to become a baby. Goody gum drops, I say to my friend. Please pass the salt.
I nurse my old travel habits like they're terminal patients. I take Cellini Euroline out from time to time, stroke her under belly, put her up on my bed so she can have a view of the neighbours garage at least. We chat, but not like we used to when we were out on the road. Things have changed between us. With the demise of my last remaining functional relationship I have turned to fantasy.
Today's fantasy menu read something like this. I fantasized about:
1. Being recruited by the CIA/FBI to work on their next major undercover project. Angelina Jolie: kiss my butt.
2. Being kidnapped by my “real parents” and taken to Italy to meet “the family”. Or to the Caribbean. Or anwhere other than where I am right now.
3. Winning the R75million lottery. (Email me if you would like the detailed breakdown of exactly what I intend to do with it.)
4. Winning a round the world plane ticket in a travel competition. First class. Hotel accommodation included.
5. Someone rich reading my blog and deciding that I’m wonderful. They give me a million dollars, on the condition that I travel the world and write about it. And sleep with them.
6. Meeting a rich, handsome secret agent and travelling the world with him.
7. Meeting a rich, handsome adventurer and travelling the world with him.
8. Meeting a rich, handsome vampire and traveling the world riding on his back.
9. Getting notified that my third uncle thrice removed has passed on. Since he adored me (even though we never met, except that one time when I was but a baby) he has left his sixteen homes across the globe to moi. I live in all of them for a year and write a novel about it. It becomes a best seller.
After the above list of fantasies were completed I spent a disproportionate amount of time planning a wedding I don't intend to have to a man I don't know, and later I even named our baby I don't want. I'm living in the Twilight Zone people.
What is happening to me???!
Dear Universe, please intervene. In whatever way you see fit, as long as it's exciting, adventurous, and maybe only slightly dangerous.
Let's get it on!
Alice
Fine! You win! I get that it was probably not the best strategic move to come straight back home after my epic six month trip to the US. Check mate world. Message transmission completed.
It took me awhile to receive it though. And in the process The Depression has become strong with me. Nine months can really stretch when you don’t have a life. Nine months. NINE LONG MONTHS of trying to stay sane. I have failed miserably. It's significant though, my friend says over coffee. Nine is the number of completion; the time it takes a foetus to become a baby. Goody gum drops, I say to my friend. Please pass the salt.
I nurse my old travel habits like they're terminal patients. I take Cellini Euroline out from time to time, stroke her under belly, put her up on my bed so she can have a view of the neighbours garage at least. We chat, but not like we used to when we were out on the road. Things have changed between us. With the demise of my last remaining functional relationship I have turned to fantasy.
Today's fantasy menu read something like this. I fantasized about:
1. Being recruited by the CIA/FBI to work on their next major undercover project. Angelina Jolie: kiss my butt.
2. Being kidnapped by my “real parents” and taken to Italy to meet “the family”. Or to the Caribbean. Or anwhere other than where I am right now.
3. Winning the R75million lottery. (Email me if you would like the detailed breakdown of exactly what I intend to do with it.)
4. Winning a round the world plane ticket in a travel competition. First class. Hotel accommodation included.
5. Someone rich reading my blog and deciding that I’m wonderful. They give me a million dollars, on the condition that I travel the world and write about it. And sleep with them.
6. Meeting a rich, handsome secret agent and travelling the world with him.
7. Meeting a rich, handsome adventurer and travelling the world with him.
8. Meeting a rich, handsome vampire and traveling the world riding on his back.
9. Getting notified that my third uncle thrice removed has passed on. Since he adored me (even though we never met, except that one time when I was but a baby) he has left his sixteen homes across the globe to moi. I live in all of them for a year and write a novel about it. It becomes a best seller.
After the above list of fantasies were completed I spent a disproportionate amount of time planning a wedding I don't intend to have to a man I don't know, and later I even named our baby I don't want. I'm living in the Twilight Zone people.
What is happening to me???!
Dear Universe, please intervene. In whatever way you see fit, as long as it's exciting, adventurous, and maybe only slightly dangerous.
Let's get it on!
Alice
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