My muscles are shaking and my soul is smiling like the Buddha statue I saw the other day. Just moments ago, everything stopped for what felt like eternity. War, diseases, abuse, and corruption–it all was irrelevant, non-existent even. My wrinkly fingers are looking for that rusty old key, nestled somewhere in between the wet exotic notes, worth nothing when measured in currencies of the good old western world.
Recluse. A modern day anchorite, escaping from all the idiocy of the so-called society that measures my success by which type of a vehicle I have parked in front of my abode. That’s me; willingly letting go of everything that most “sane” people appreciate in this cycle we all are going through. Spending what seems like a year in the jungle, daringly escaping from that spider-net they want me to be stuck into. No money, no savings. No insurance, let alone a job. Showing no appreciation to the system my government so eagerly wanted me to be a part of. I don’t want to be one of the flies.
One day though, one day very soon, I’ll give up the dream and return back to reality. One day the palm trees will change into skyscrapers, the young coconuts into a potent energy drink that keeps me awake, while staring at the pictures of perfect waves even though the deadline of my business presentation is steadily approaching. Friendly faces of total enjoyment, I will miss them dearly. Even then I will keep on chasing the feeling, although scoring may not be a daily occurrence anymore – addiction at its purest form. I start my car as the battery has run flat yet again, and scoot off to return to my daily recovery routines. Tomorrow is supposed to be even bigger.