time to be off again.

3 January 2012 § 4 Comments

Maybe this is getting old, this ¨Hey, I’m off into the Unknown. Again.¨ revelation. I don’t know what I can say here, to be honest – a good friend recently challenged the entire existence of Structured Roots, which is more than a ‘blog’ (what a disgusting word) and more like my only connection to the rest of the world – it is now my photogallery (corrientmente sin colores) and literature station, if you could call it that.

If the apocalypse came, and we lost electricity and computers and facebook and all this unnecessary garbage, what would it be worth? Not much, obviously, but lifestyles and healthy diets and  daily workout routines exist because some of us have the luxury of having them. Some people drive Hummers to the grocery store. Why? For the same reason those two drunk guys in Las Vegas left one casino for the Excalibur. Why are we going to the Excalibur, he asked his more-drunk friend – because we fucking can.

And that’s not necessarily a good enough reason for me to do anything, granted, though I could argue it anyway. The reason the Occupy Wall Street movement exists because it has the right to, just like the U.S. media, who is only forward and direct and honest when it serves them, has the right to ignore them.

What am I saying? I’m in a half-sick haze and about to get on a bus for the Caribbean, without much of an idea where I’m going to sleep tonight. Bocas del Toro, where I’m headed, is too far to make it in one day – I’m tall, and long bus rides are mildly torturous for me – so I may stop on the way and chill on the beach for the night. What a hard life I have.

If only I was content with it, I could be at peace like normal people, and be able to live in the same little town all my life, get married and own a house and four dogs and a cat who only came back to eat and sleep with one leg hanging off the roof. I could go to work and on the way home have a beer with my friends from high school and bullshit about… well, whatever those people bullshit about. I wouldn’t have the need or desire to find revolutionary literature to occupy my time and mental energy with, and I wouldn’t read International Business textbooks to kill time. I could just be.

Even now, thousand of miles from wherever I chose to call home this week, I’m still looking, still writing, taking up challenges which could inject just the right amount of inner turmoil to make me smile when someone walks away, and practicing pieces for the stage that I imagine reading when I’m done with all of this, and have something to share from it.

They must think the gringo who talks to himself while he walks around Barrio Córdoba is crazy. And maybe he is. But he doesn’t care what you think; he just has occasional pangs of envy that you can stand behind your caged houses and still smile.

I’m looking forward to this. I really am.


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