Through the narrow gap of my tunnel vision I feel like a loser, a failure and perhaps in the very near future a quitter. Talking to my bunk mate I’m told my journey is amazing a dream come true and also to frightening to ever partake on their own terms. Perception is something that has always intrigued me beyond words. Grab a bunch of shit and see what happens, that’s what it do.
Well, at least that’s my perception of what I do but the reality of my perception is that I always have too much which means on some level I am prepared, or at least I on some level attempted to prepare. My new friend admits dreams of doing what I doing but also needs specific dates, locations, and all the answers up front to all things potentially encountered. We live at exact opposite ends of the spectrum but we are not really that different…
My comfort factor is found being in a full blown fucking typhoon with a death grip on the tent I’m trying to set up. One slip and it’s gone as is my small safety net. Their comfort level is a reservation through the Internet that may not book correctly leaving them in a strange new place needing to find a suitable hotel to sleep for the night. Both equal adventures and mis adventures depending on the perspective of the person living it.
I remember when in was sixteen, we had stolen my friends parents car and driven to La Misssion in Mexico coming back across the border and hell yes we were smuggling all sorts of contraband there was some hold up in the customs car lane, we just sat there for like 10’minutes going nowhere, then there were a bunch of strange dudes around the car, I was pulled through the window smashed against the car while all sorts of confusion whet on in Spanish, they had confused us for smugglers which in fact we may have been on a pathetic high school level. They let us go apologized and then for good measure pulled out the inspection cone banged it on our hood and told us to pull into border inspections. I drove foreward. Climbed out the window and grabbed the cone and sped off into America, no big deal, that’s how my brain is programmed. My friend was freaking the hell out the whole time and did all the way home. We were both doing the exact same thing but while my brain was in nuclear reactor fun zone his fun meter had been pegged from the first moment.
I’m still sitting here in my big rocker in front of the wood stove, my knee is killing me and I’m faced with making a decision. I’m guessing that not unlike all the decisions I make there will be a bit of pain, lots of fun and somewhere in between sunrise and sunset I’ll be there second guessing my logic or complete lack of it when it comes to my decision process. One thing I know for sure is that there will be no morning alarm, commute or itinerarary. This journey still is about less which will always in one form or another grant more which is what I want these days, more or less that is.