Huddled beneath a molehill of frumpy cotton comforters, I inhale a deep breath of frosty cool air. It stings my nostrils and dries out the delicate tissue that lines my throat. As if my body isn't already screaming it in protest, I think to myself, "It's a bit chilly tonight!"
The cold, the hassle of constant moving, the denial of comfort. All good reasons people have brought to my attention as if trying to convince me that what I am doing makes absolutely no sense. Don't they see? That's the point. To experience another side of life, to see things, to feel emotions and fears that don't ever come close to an everyday jaunt in suburbia. Create your own adventure. Remember those books? That's exactly what I'm doing, but instead of being limited to going left or right, I'm choosing to walk straight off the map! My fingertip traces the edge of the crinkled papyrus as I stare in deep concentration at the routes delicately inked out before me. What's that, my finger stops. A ridge, a flap, an unglued corner. Digging a nail into the crease, I slit the edge in two. There's just enough room to slip my fingers in and tear the map into two sheets. A plume of dust induces a quick cough as bits of dried glue rain down like glitter to my feet. Examining the second and once hidden sheet reveals an intriguing truth: there is more to this map of life than I once thought. A whole new path of discovery is laid out before me. I'm ready to start.
The cold, the hassle of constant moving, the denial of comfort. All good reasons people have brought to my attention as if trying to convince me that what I am doing makes absolutely no sense. Don't they see? That's the point. To experience another side of life, to see things, to feel emotions and fears that don't ever come close to an everyday jaunt in suburbia. Create your own adventure. Remember those books? That's exactly what I'm doing, but instead of being limited to going left or right, I'm choosing to walk straight off the map! My fingertip traces the edge of the crinkled papyrus as I stare in deep concentration at the routes delicately inked out before me. What's that, my finger stops. A ridge, a flap, an unglued corner. Digging a nail into the crease, I slit the edge in two. There's just enough room to slip my fingers in and tear the map into two sheets. A plume of dust induces a quick cough as bits of dried glue rain down like glitter to my feet. Examining the second and once hidden sheet reveals an intriguing truth: there is more to this map of life than I once thought. A whole new path of discovery is laid out before me. I'm ready to start.
2 comments:
whats the significance of the picture, or are you just showing us your laundry mat?
randle, you seriously need to write a book about this bro.
so categorize me as the friend that says, "go for it!"
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