How does one go from feeling an optimism defined in large part by a very real sense of purpose, backed by a very real, tangible, notion that everything CAN happen because ability exists behind every word, to feeling absolutely lost, in a span of a year?
Try going for gold in an arena you don't belong in, or, in simpler terms, trying claiming you can cook a 5-star duck dish, when in truth, your hand needs ro be held when you fry an egg.
I started this Travel Blog in the first quarter of this year as a venue wherein I could pay homage to the gods of travel and adventure with whom I have been privileged to have "break bread" with. Lately, I have not really managed to travel very much. The only excursions I have had have been excursions in my mind. I admittedly have a very active mind and so, the imaginary trysts have been quite a thrill.
Those aren't enough to satisfy my thirst for adventure, though. It's like drinking wine while at the beach in the middle of summer. Liquid is meant to quench thirst, but my goodness, please, choose the right kind of liquid to guzzle down.
I need to travel. I need to find myself. I need to take my creative reins back. I have become complacent. I have let "The Man", win. I should have placed him in a pinning predicament a long time ago when I had the chance.
It will not be easy balancing a dream with the concept of pragmatism. No sir. But it can happen. I've seen it done before. Is it a simple matter? Not by any stretch.
If I don't find my inspiration, I might as well die like a snail- crushed, devoid of a very real idea of radiance, and of transcendence- of being more than just a mollusk without any real purpose, seemingly, other than being basted and served in a Gordon Ramsay restaurant.
I've spilled ink on white linen.
You may call it a mess, but I call it "beauty" not even a gallon of Didi Seven can remove.
MC
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