Monday 29 June 2015

Nothing is Everything

I know it's bad to write ideas that are difficult for people to comprehend. Such as, nothing is everything. It confuses people and so they feel foolish or dense. As a result they choose not to read the thing and then they forget about it. Maybe they really are foolish for fooling themselves so easily. But there are some rare souls who don't mind the feeling of being tricked. They want to read on the to make some sort of sense out of it. They might not get the idea, but they will get something out of it, because we always see what we want to see and what we want to believe.

And I believe that I am not a people's person. Sure I can smile, say that I'm doing just fine. I will ask you how you're doing, and I will listen in delight.
But real relationships aren't my cup of tea. After the big listening I'll sympathise with your situation, but that's where it stops. I am unable to maintain any real relationship with the people that actually matter to me. I lack that skill.
Maybe I never really tried to develop it. But here I am, with no one I can call my buddy. In an odd way it's soothing. However, sometimes I really wish I had put in some effort to be better at this. Sometimes I do wish to not be a rock. But luckily, that's just sometimes. Mostly I like being a lone wolf.

Monday 1 June 2015

Day 23

It's no secret that I simply love travelling. To be more precise, in a way I'm addicted to travelling. I have been to over 30 countries worldwide, and I can not wait to see more places, to meet more interesting people and to experience new cultures. Here's a short extract from my last trip..



Day 23 of travelling non-stop.

Honestly, first thing that comes to mind is how exhausting it is, it's truly exhausting. But adventurous and addictive at the same time. Like a new drug you start using and now can't live a day without it.
You might wonder what exactly is exhausting. For starters, meeting new people. When travelling by hitchhiking, and meeting people via Couch Surfing, socializing is a must. You can hate it, but why hate it if you can choose to love it? It's never boring hearing other people stories and adventures, and experiences. Your mind opens more and more each day. You become a sponge that soaks up everything that surrounds you. You become immune to discomfort and to the annoying things. You become like a bridge, many cross your path, you both get something out of the experience. You build tolerance for the world around you.
When you start to travel, you think you'll find answers, but the truth is more and more questions arise and nothing seems certain any more. Your shoes are worn out, the sole is falling off and the stiches are falling apart. But the memories they carry and their comfort are good enough reasons to not toss them away. Your clothing becomes worn out. You wear pretty much the same thing for a week..and do so until you run out of clean clothing. You realize that even though your luggage is small, there are still things that you have not used.
My favorite jeans became so worn out that I had to change them and leave them behind in some public restroom. I've been lucky many times, I feel uncomfortable saying I'm unlucky because suddenly a string of bad events happen. I know that things can change around any second. They can get better or worse... Either way, I know I will get through it. Nothing really comes as a big surprise.
Good weather makes the day brighter, while not-so-good weather is great for a change, for a challenge... Sometimes it simply works as a reasons to bring out the warmer clothes. It gives a good reasons to wonder in a museum, quite shop or even the local library (even though most books are in a language I don't speak.)
My face is covered in freckles because of the amount of time I have spent outside. A 5 km walk seems like a piece of cake because I walk about 20 almost every day. Sometimes I get a feeling I know other cities better than my own. I love trying local cuisine.
I do feel exhausted, but the will to keep going is too strong to stop.
I've stolen a beer jug, I've went on tram rides without buying a ticket. I have lied to people and made some of them sad. But the truth is, for most people I will be just a memory, at best, they might remember my name.. But that's not very likely. But I will not remember their names either. I will recall their stories, and I will remember how I felt when with them.
But in the end I know I'll be alone. And, if I'm lucky, I might remember my own name and where I am from.