~ Down And Out On The Road ~
“I awoke with a dry mouth and my head aching with the aftermath of the previous night’s exploits. The girl was gone and I lay there, alone again, in a strange hostel room. I looked at my backpack, beaten and battered and bruised on the floor. I now only had a few items of clothes left and my wallet confirmed I had burnt through all my money again. There was a sadness in the air and the fading ink on my passport cover told me I would soon be a ghost. Eventually I dragged myself out of bed and roamed the streets in search of sustenance. After devouring some cheap street-food, I made it to the beach and stood there staring out into the ocean. Somewhere on the other side of that great mass of water was the land of home – the land where I could have been suited and booted up like a regular member of the human race. I imagined myself waking to an alarm clock, fighting through traffic jams, working a conventional job and chatting about the football down the pub. I imagined the routine, the television shows, the suburban lawns and quiet desperation as I slowly and statically sank into unfulfilled old age. Maybe I was down and out in foreign lands, but returning home to that would surely finish me off. I didn’t belong to that world and the only way to save myself was to dive deeper into the abyss – deeper into the chaos – deeper into the wilderness. With a hungover heart and a mind stained with madness, the only way out was to continue wandering into the wild like an abandoned dog trying to find his way home.”
(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)
~ A Voice From The Wild ~ 