Monday, April 16, 2012

Can't believe

I can't believe that I took these two pics early on Friday morning. It was just before turning inland and northwards from the coast, while wearing nothing but shorts. And with sea air blustered through my hair, and up my nostrils.
Tonight, walking home from mince and steamed fresh veggies on fluffy white rice at Celeste's, I was sorry for not wearing long pants, and felt aimless and empty beneath the southern cross. Stark in contrast to the high-on-ozone-and-holiday vibe that forced my heart through my chest while I, almost, cried at the beauty.
Tonight I'm aimless and empty in my valley life, feeling far away from a string of mountain top experiences. Experience has taught me, too, that it's impossible to live permanently on the mountain top; attempting to do so would, I imagine, result in a life immersed in drugs or alcohol, even anti depressants or a sex addiction.
The challenge is to find meaning in the now. Which is easier said than done. Especially when I have consciously chosen to leave behind the city's distractions and to permanently live in the country: seeking peace, quite and solitude, I'm guaranteed to be alone when staring into the abyss.

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