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.
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.