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Diary Entry, Inspiration, Life, Philosophy, travel, writings

Between sugar and a soft place

Yesterday I came back from a trip. A trip about which I had some preconceived notions as to how it was going to turn out and what it was going to do for me. When we have preconceived notions about something we fail to acknowledge the fact that we live in the world we live in and life is like it has always been. We can pretend to have a certain degree of control over the consequences of our actions and perhaps we do, but not to the extent we think we do.
I have this list of goals and taking a trip all by myself was on it, hence the trip. Right now I feel tired and have cramps running up and down my legs, my feet are itchy from mosquito bites and I have two weird blood clot spots on the small finger of my left hand that I do not remember getting, so its fair to say that when I woke up this morning it was not just any morning of my life, it was a little different, the essence of the difference notwithstanding. A two day trip was not going to change my genetic make up, nor was it going to give me some dramatic insight into life that would have changed it forever but it did give me the next best thing; I got to drink beer sitting by a secluded waterfall overlooking a cliff with dense creepers dangling from it; and not just any beer, the best beer of my life. I have a life advice for you, never give up on a chance to do this; never, ever. I got to the waterfall in the evening and it was located right beyond this secluded cafe where people come to get high and shit, away from the humanity and I got there after a day of trekking up and down the mountains for 18 long kilometres so the beer was all the more welcome plus I sat there and convinced myself that this was the edge of the world and beyond this was just wilderness, nothingness; so for a moment it was all the more exhilarating. So, if nothing else, the trip did give me the best beer I’ve ever had in my life, so there’s that.
For two days I spoke very little, did very little other than drive and trek, lived in a room with a loo so unsanitary I had to tie toilet paper around the seat before i sat on it but not for a moment should you think that I hated any part of the experience even for a second. It has given me a story for life, something that cannot be taken away from me. I personally think that the more things you have that cannot be taken away from you; like spiritual experiences, memories, thoughts, hopes, dreams etc, you know, the intangible stuff; the more strong you are and the more difficult it is for life to break you down and eat you up. Your friends, your family might be your biggest pillars of strength but all someone has to do to make you weak is to take them away from you; instead your love for your friends, your belongingness towards your family, the time you’ve spent with them and the things you’ve gone through together, the things nobody can take away from you are the actual foundations of your spirit. I believe, perhaps, when we say that our family is our biggest pillar of support, we are referring to our love for them, their love for us, the emotional and spiritual bond we share with them which transcends the physicality of flesh. I think that is powerful, I think that is beautiful; on so many different levels, in so many countless different ways, I think that is all pervasive and is something that does not die with physical existence.
My family did not know about this trip, nobody did, just a few friends (I did need somebody to come looking for me if I happened to fall into a gorge and get my arm stuck in a tree or something). Mainly because they would have worried too much, you could be a 100 kg wrestler and your mother, given her way, would not let you drive alone after 10, or if she does, would pester you with a barrage of calls that make no sense and were just made to not so subtly ensure that you were alive and kicking. (lets face it, if you are a 100 kg she should be probably more worried about what you eat); so yeah I lied to everyone, everyone who would have gone bat shit crazy worrying about me; and even though I did not feel good about it, there was no way I could have (kinda-sorta) cut myself from the world for two days, without doing this.
When all is said and done, I think I’d be able to live alone now, not get bored and perhaps think a little clearly; well, for a few days at least; and as a bonus, I feel bursts of strength ringing inside of me. Bloom, you rotten little scoundrels, bloom.



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