Everyone has experienced one of those nights when you’re laid in bed signalling to your body that you are indeed ready to fall asleep, but your mind is whizzing with thoughts and ideas and coming up with extravagant fantasies that you can only wish will come true.
Sometimes I feel stuck. Stuck in a bed, in a house, in a village, in a city, in a country, in my life. I’m laid in bed; and all I can think about are all the amazing sights I want to see, all the things I want to experience, all the places that I want to go! It’s 2am and I just want to travel.
I want to grab a bag and pack it with the essentials:
(and a bag of sherbet lemons because I live for those sweets)
Get changed at 2am and leave straight away. Catch the next bus to the train station and to the airport from there. Where to go? You can anywhere you want to because it’s your life and who the fuck needs to decide for you? Get on the plane and fly to wherever your destination may be.
Maybe I chose Thailand… Maybe I chose New York… Maybe I chose India… the list is endless. I want to learn from the world, not from a book! I want to learn what art is really like: not the legendary artwork of Van Gogh but the street artwork of the buskers on the seafront of Mediterranean beaches. Art in the form of Broadway shows at the New York City Theatre! To help people not just by giving my friend a tampon when she needs one or a shoulder to cry on when her boyfriend broke up with her for the 3rd time that week. To actually make a difference in people’s lives; volunteering to help in schools in India or help build homes for people in Kenya.
I want to relax: to lay on a beach somewhere and forget about the world around me. Not think about college and exams and courses and money and family and work and relationships and to be able to float away into serenity.
And by the time I’ve thought about all the things I wish I could be doing I’ve drifted off to sleep, in bed, in a house, in a village, in a city, in a country, stuck.
(picture from: https://flic.kr/p/pKxGi)