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I sit perched on Sookies bowsprit dragging my blade against a hard stone.  I can tell by the sound it makes how sharp my cold steel blade is.  I take the knife and set it gently against my throat and slowly pull the blade against baby smooth skin.

Sailing around the world

All my edges are sharp enough to shave with. I slip my blade back into its leather sheith and watch the sun set, they say it’s going to snow by the weekend and I can feel it in the air.  It’s cold as hell, the wind is nuking, I have no food and the days light is vanishing  fast, half my life is dangerous, to dangerous.  Closing the boat I walk to work, a big leather chair, a hot burning fire close by, the smell of hard wood burning.  I get paid to tend the fire, I push a button and a hot meal is delivered to me, sitting in complete warmth, my appetite is satisfied yet I’m starving, desperate, afraid of the security I have in this world, it’s dangerous and it scares the hell out of me.

its one thing to fantasize  about living on the edge, but I know it’s only a matter of time until I’m standing, toes over the cliff.  Staring at the abyss and I know I will step off again, no parachute and as often as I’m present in this world, it’s my nature.  I throw another log on the fire, lean back and take a bite of half raw meat, I’m vegan… everything about my life is wrong but I do it over and over again.  Like a man trapped in a cubicle daydreaming about living wild, I live with a pack of wolves daydreaming about living a safe, normal, boring life.

Fantasy being what it is, i know this so called security I’m experiencing is temporary, it’s why I always have my knife at my side, so I can cut the binds that tie and again escape to the cold dark world, a place where there is never enough food, or warmth or security.  A palace where hardship flows like a waterfall, a place I call home.  Reality bites like the cold and I bite back, I’ve fallen to far away from the ship of fools, I tread water and watch it sail away.  I’m on my own now I can tread water or swim to freedom, but what is freedom???

From the log of Sookie- Maui, I just want one fucking good nights sleep. The rangers are after me again, they think they are chasing me into the jungle but I’m leading them deeper And deeper into a place where badges have no merit, a place where survival is a hierarchy of desperation… freedom is not granted in this world, it is taken. 

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