Well, the long trip that lasted much longer than anticipated is over. In some ways, I'm going to be happy to get back into my own routine and quite possibly be starting a new one this coming week. In others, I will miss the interaction and living my life under someone else's direction. The lazy afternoons speant napping, reading, watching some cooking show and having a light cocktail were nice. There was no rush to my days and no worries. In many ways it was a vacation although very few sites were seen and to be completely honest, I spent about 98% of the time I was here in the house, on the porch or on the back deck. I wouldn't have had it any other way. OK, maybe a few more movies, but the lure of the laptop was too great at times.
Netflix, bill collectors and my mailman must all think I'm dead. In some ways I am. Maybe in a good way. Eighteen days away from home, from normalcy. Eighteen days and one person told me they missed me. I've always made excuses for what holds me where I am and in these eighteen days I've come to realize that this is a facade i've created. There's a whole world out there waiting to be seen. Sure money would help, but I can honestly say, that if the right opportunity came about, I could pack up tomorrow, get in a car, bus plane and take off. I don't think I'd look back. This is not to say I do not appreciate those in my life, but I see them and I see myself, living this quietly empty existence. I need more.
Spending days, weeks and months in a cycle of repeated behavior and worse of all, conversations. When you spend time with a 98 year old woman and you hear less repeated stories than you do with people your own age it makes you wonder. Is this what it's all about? I don't have the answers. I do have the questions. I'm tired of trying to be the life of the party. I want to sit back and watch the party. I want to take it easy. I would exchange fourteen hour crazy nights of debauchary for six hours with my feet in a lake with a few bottles of cabernet. Sitting for hours waiting for that sun to set. Early nights to bed, maybe by a fire. Waking at dawn to feel the wet ground and listen to the faint drips of water off the leaves. It's amazing what you hear when you sit back and take it all in.
Today I watched a spider toy with an ant. It would attack and subdue the ant. The any would then wander and then freeze. Possibly paralyzed by the spider's venom. This went on for about 20 minutes. After a few minutes the ant would start to move again and the spider would pounce, once again subduing his victim. Toying with him. Giving him the false sense of freedom. After about the fifth or sixth time. The ant had wandered a little further away. The spider went back to the web and then came back for what I assumed was the finale. The spider creeped closer and closer and as he was about three inches away, the ant, came alive and sprinted towards a ledge. In what seemed like a flash, the ant was gone and the spider sat, at the ledge, possibly hoping for the ant's return. Soon after, i saw the ant on the floor. The spider retreated into a hole in the wood and waited for another victim. The ant was free to live another day. Of onto a new journey. One that would take it far from the tangled web. Maybe there is another web in this ant's future, but I'd like to think this was his shot and he made it. In many ways I feel like that ant. I feel like I'm trapped in a web, but in my web, there is no spider. It's a slow painless death. It's monotony, routine and a lack of the new. Talk is cheap and change is expensive. I don't have the ability right now, but one day soon, I'll be that ant. One day soon.
Netflix, bill collectors and my mailman must all think I'm dead. In some ways I am. Maybe in a good way. Eighteen days away from home, from normalcy. Eighteen days and one person told me they missed me. I've always made excuses for what holds me where I am and in these eighteen days I've come to realize that this is a facade i've created. There's a whole world out there waiting to be seen. Sure money would help, but I can honestly say, that if the right opportunity came about, I could pack up tomorrow, get in a car, bus plane and take off. I don't think I'd look back. This is not to say I do not appreciate those in my life, but I see them and I see myself, living this quietly empty existence. I need more.
Spending days, weeks and months in a cycle of repeated behavior and worse of all, conversations. When you spend time with a 98 year old woman and you hear less repeated stories than you do with people your own age it makes you wonder. Is this what it's all about? I don't have the answers. I do have the questions. I'm tired of trying to be the life of the party. I want to sit back and watch the party. I want to take it easy. I would exchange fourteen hour crazy nights of debauchary for six hours with my feet in a lake with a few bottles of cabernet. Sitting for hours waiting for that sun to set. Early nights to bed, maybe by a fire. Waking at dawn to feel the wet ground and listen to the faint drips of water off the leaves. It's amazing what you hear when you sit back and take it all in.
Today I watched a spider toy with an ant. It would attack and subdue the ant. The any would then wander and then freeze. Possibly paralyzed by the spider's venom. This went on for about 20 minutes. After a few minutes the ant would start to move again and the spider would pounce, once again subduing his victim. Toying with him. Giving him the false sense of freedom. After about the fifth or sixth time. The ant had wandered a little further away. The spider went back to the web and then came back for what I assumed was the finale. The spider creeped closer and closer and as he was about three inches away, the ant, came alive and sprinted towards a ledge. In what seemed like a flash, the ant was gone and the spider sat, at the ledge, possibly hoping for the ant's return. Soon after, i saw the ant on the floor. The spider retreated into a hole in the wood and waited for another victim. The ant was free to live another day. Of onto a new journey. One that would take it far from the tangled web. Maybe there is another web in this ant's future, but I'd like to think this was his shot and he made it. In many ways I feel like that ant. I feel like I'm trapped in a web, but in my web, there is no spider. It's a slow painless death. It's monotony, routine and a lack of the new. Talk is cheap and change is expensive. I don't have the ability right now, but one day soon, I'll be that ant. One day soon.
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