thoughts

~ Sanity Slipping ~

~ Sanity Slipping ~

“I guess it was true that I wasn’t the complete package any more – that I was genuinely crazy, and not really in the good way. The more I stared into those morning mirrors of realisation, the more I saw the sanity slowly fading from my eyes. The effects of the last years of bohemian adventure had left me permanently scratched and scarred. I had madness stained into my brain and chaos seared into my soul. I was increasingly hard to relate to. Simple tasks of convention and expectation made me spirit shudder. At any point I assumed I could just stop to reduce the damage, but I started to realise that the return to the farm of sanity was becoming an impossible task. I had wandered too far and lost sight of it. I walked the streets like an alien on interstellar safari. I had shifted my life to live in a world that wasn’t accessible to anyone else. I couldn’t quite explain it to myself or others, but for some reason I had to keep moving forward into the mess and madness. I was enticed, entranced – bewitched by something bigger than myself. There was something out there that called me forward. And though sometimes it was painful, I felt alive – more alive than any life of comfort and ease could ever offer. 

So please, know that I live in my own world now. I roam the wild woods in my mind and feast off the carcass of my own madness. My feet move fearlessly along the mountain paths in my heart. My soul sets sail outward on storm-pounded oceans. I am driven to this; it is the only thing I know. I am heading further and further into the wilderness of life, following the ineffable pull of the heart, trudging through the swamps, rising up against the storms, staring out into the skies with a mind of blazing fire. Yes, it’s true: I am lost out in a great wilderness. But please, don’t send out a search party for me.”

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thoughts

~ Alien Nation ~

~Alien Nation ~

“Sometimes I just wanted to spill the contents of my soul to another. I wanted to talk about life, philosophy, adventure, the stars, the universe, the shadows of trees, and the dancing birds at sunset, but everywhere I went I found it hard to break on through past the barrier of trivial small-talk. Instead of discussing the cosmos, we discussed work colleagues; instead of talking philosophy, we talked television; instead of sharing ideas, we shared gossip and rumours. The times when I thought fuck it and decided to speak about these things, the conversation usually stalled as I was met with piercing glares. It seemed like there was some sort of cultural script we all followed, and anyone reciting lines not on the script was seen as an intruder who must be silenced. This was a travesty; I wanted to talk about something real but I was surrounded by a population of mannequins, of stage characters – of toy dolls where you knew what was going to be said once their string was pulled yet again. Silently in the crowd, I yearned for something more. I began to look for others wishing to break free from the script of society. I looked for a particular look in an eye – a wistful look that was often confused with somebody daydreaming. I searched for that look in bars, in supermarket queues, in the crowds that momentarily formed at the traffic lights. Sometimes I think I spotted it – the living creature in a crowd of mannequins – but I never did anything about it. I kept quiet as the robotic small-talk filled the air and a collective, cultural insanity left me alone in my mind once again.”

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thoughts

~ Finding the Others ~

~ Finding the Others ~

“When you had been out on the road for a year and a half, the alienation of coming home was weird. While trying to adjust to normal life, you felt disconnected from everyone around you; you felt like you were an undercover creature from another planet. Walking down the street, you’d desperately look for another one of your kind – some boy or girl walking with a relaxed pace, looking at the sky instead of the floor. But they were never anywhere to be seen. Every now and again you’d see a crazy person screaming on the sidewalk as some sort of warning about how far you could drift from normality without going insane. You wanted to keep it together, but at the same time you were in constant conflict with everything around you. The billboards, the traffic jams, the hustle, the bustle – everything was an assault on the senses that left you wandering those busy streets on your own. All that was left to do was try to find the others, and that’s when the realisation hit: the only way to do that was to book a ticket, grab your stuff and head back out onto the road.”

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thoughts

~ Branded ~

~ Branded ~

“All I ever wanted to be was myself, but whenever I seemed to walk out the door, everyone was trying to turn me into something else. The advertisers were trying to turn me into a consumer, the politicians were trying to turn me into a voter, the priests were trying to turn me into a believer, the men in suits wanted to turn me into some sort of executive. No matter what road or street I walked down, there was always someone there trying to shape and define me within their own little box of limitation. The world confused me. Being yourself should have been the easiest thing in the world, but often what should have been a simple act turned out to be an act of defiance and rebellion. Everybody and everything wanted to warp and convert you – wanted to brand you with their specific iron prod of identity. And more or less they were all successful. Upon those streets I watched powerful human-beings converted into rigid-minded citizens. I saw them reduced to fervent consumers, to celebrity followers, to proudly overworked employees. I saw human-beings no longer defined by their heart and soul and spirit, but by their social status and economic value. No matter how I tried to look at it, culture was the perpetrator of this crime against the individual. It herded all of us, took away our uniqueness and trapped us within boundary-defining pens of identity. The ones who fiercely followed their own inner voice were usually cast out from the herd and left roaming the wilderness alone. Naturally the question to me was whether or not to follow the herd or walk alone. It was a difficult one. To avoid the searing heat of being branded by culture meant you had some element of integrity and individualism, but the cost of this was often isolation, alienation and – quite often – insanity.”

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thoughts

~ The Responsibility of Freedom ~

~ The Responsibility of Freedom ~

“So many people say they want freedom, but very few actually mean it. Being truly free means thinking for yourself. It means being solely responsible for the direction in which way your life is heading. To a lot of people that is a terrifying prospect. People would rather sink back into their sofas and be told what to think; they would rather follow the crowd than instinct – would rather be guided by an institution than intuition. The reason why is that living freely is the greatest form of responsibility there is. It means being the sailor of your own ship. It means trusting yourself to the water and self-navigating the ocean. Ultimately, being truly free means getting up to look in the mirror everyday knowing that it is you – and only you – who is responsible should you drift off course and end up sinking into the abyss.”

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thoughts

Refuse

 

~ Refuse ~

“When normality requires you to hide your true face, when the crowd want you to silence your voice to meet their approval, when you’re asked to abandon what sets your soul on fire for the sake of sensibility and sanity – refuse. Whatever life is, it certainly isn’t no little rehearsal for you to drift passively through as your dreams and desires lie gathering dust and cobwebs in some dark, forgotten corner. Your life is precious and your life is now, so muster up the courage to live the one you were born for. Muster up the courage to live the life that leaves your bones shaking with adventure and your heart aching with passion.”

thoughts

~ A Warrior of the Wild ~

~ A Warrior of the Wild ~

“And there comes a moment in your life when you know that they have failed to break you down. As you emerge with those eyes full of fire from the swamps and storms, as you throw down the muck and mess and madness – as you stagger forth fearlessly with the light of the cosmos still blazing bright in your heart. You will know that they have failed to break you down. When you hear that wolf still growling inside your head – still untamed, still rising up – your raw truth still propelling you forward against all the hollow-hearted and empty-eyed creatures who abandoned the very essence of life and themselves. You will know they have failed to break you down. When you remember that you chose love and not hate; courage and not fear; freedom and not slavery. And though your journey through the wild may have left you scratched and scarred, your very flesh will shine in the sun like a beautiful beacon of victory. You will bear the marks that show you fiercely followed your heart – that show you walked the path of the wild warrior. You’ll bear the marks that show you went out there and lived a life, and didn’t just exist in one.”

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