Here I am again... above the clouds. Tickling excitement making itself at home in my belly. Well, it was about time. I was turning into a traveler who doesn't travel... and a writer who doesn't write. An appalling thought. How could I let this happen?
Well, sometimes, one gets caught up in an idea and when this idea is simply wonderful it is very difficult to give it up. Plus I have a weakness for ideas and incredible stories. Once they are in my head, I really want them to come to existence... I do my best to make them happen. It's that simple. The problem was that this particular story, the idea of it grew so powerful that it crushed me.
I lost my free will to a story... how about that?
Luckily, 'the curse' was broken a few months ago. I had a lightbulb moment and magically reclaimed my soul from a devil of my own creation. I am not angry about wasting time with it... you know, this was a hell of lesson, so it might have been just a side effect of my cunning talent for educating! It was a subconsciously self-inflected deviously designed lesson which can only mean I am a genius even beyond the point of my own awareness... Although this kind of geniality is a bit dodgy. Not being aware of something is a nice way to say 'ignorant'... and ignorant is a fancy way of saying stupid... It's a vicious circle.
I am babbling on about things that don't really make sense to anyone but me... One of my bad habits... or let's jutt say - a habit- to be vague when sharing private matters, because that way I can share without actually sharing anything. I do that a lot... not only in writing, I don't think people realise how little they actually know about me... not that I do it on purpose... It's some sort of communication disease, I am unable to express myself briefly and to the point.... God, if I keep this up, my novels will make people want to shoot themselves. It makes my writing an unreadable mess. Though, when I am accused of this openly, I just blame it on my deep philosophical inclinations. Philosophers can be hard to understand and it's never their fault.
The point is, I am here, I'm happy, and I am on my way to Barcelona. But you have probably guessed that already from the title of this blog. I was meaning to give it much more meaningful or even witty title, but it's hard to name a story if you don't know about what it's going to be just yet.
It could be anything... and I love that feeling! The taste of endless possibilities in intoxicating. It's my personal drug.
Since I am spending my entire flight writing this, you have also probably guessed that I am traveling alone. It's quite amusing how shocking this was to people, when I mentioned it. Unimaginable. In fact, the first question raised (in 95% of cases) after being informed of my trip was : 'Who are you going with?'
I know it's nice to travel with somebody, and I have nothing against it. However, traveling alone has its irreplaceable charms... at least to me... it smells of adventure.
Stepping all alone into the the unfamiliar pulls you out of you comfort zone and pushes you of the cliff into the sea of 'monsters' without caring whether you know to swim or whether the fall may kill ya. Friends and family are a magical thing... with them, we transport with us a sense of security, sense of familiar. A shield against the unknown. People don't like feeling all alone in the world... no one does, not even me. But what I came to realise over the years is that, firstly, feeling of loneliness has very little to do with physical distance. Secondly, loneliness - or lack of it- is a choice.
And I made my choice.
Suddenly setting off into the sunset by myself isn't all that scary. To the contrary , it's marvellously exhilarating!
Although, this might not be a general rule, I don't know... I have a nice collection of idiosyncrasies, so maybe it's just me. You see, I love people... the awesome ones in my life and in general... We are a fascinating species. but I also like being by myself time to time. I need time to recharge batteries, collect pieces of myself that scattered all over the place like a ripped bag of marbles... Everyday life is like... not-always-professionally-mastered cocktail of actions and emotions, it's easy to loose sight of what the hell is going on. In a way, this is my leave of absence... escape from the madness.
Plus, I already told you I have a weakness for stories, especially those that involve a quest. I love creating, narrating and plotting them... making them happen. I trust my imagination, I enjoy it... but I am only one person. What is one person against the world? Universe is full of crazy wonderful possibilities and twists that have never ever crossed my mind.
It's good to be in charge of your own life, but it's also good to give the world a chance to surprise you. So, I let go of the nagging urge to be in control and just go with it... This time it took me to Barcelona.
Being on your own in a foreign country makes you PAY ATTENTION to... well, to everything! People, sounds, odours... It makes you not only look but also see. So, I don't mind if people think I am a bit strange. I am OK with it. Strangeness never killed anybody...
People around me have been chatting in Spanish all flight... I don't understand a word... well maybe a word... It's been a long time since I've been in a country of which language I did not speak. This is going to be fun... I can feel it... and hear it :D
Oh we are landing, need to turn this off... the flight attendant is giving me dirty look.
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