It’s been over a year since I have written anything of substance, of any intent, really. Life washes in in waves I suppose. Not that I haven’t had anything to write about, perhaps there has just been too much and I just haven’t been able to figure out where to start. Whatever the reason, it’s unacceptable and childish I am sure. It’s most likely been out of fear; that it’ll all come out bullshit or that I really DON’T have anything to say…. and given my life, that’s pretty scary indeed.
There have been times in my life when I think I’ve actually been a fairly good writer – I grasp at those moments to try and understand what was so unique about these circumstances – and all I can really come up with is, yes, I was writing all the time. Rusty fingers reflects a rusty mind.
I come up with a million excuses not to write, until I find myself staring out the window with all these billions of thoughts and ideas jamming around in my head like a rock concert gone awry and I want to explode….. does anyone need a cocktail? God, anything to not let me be alone with the threat of having to write it all out!
So my ancient computer couldn’t be unplugged from its precious power source, good excuse – not mobile, can’t write. Ipad’s touch screen keypad is precarious at best and takes me forever to get out a thought. Another good excuse. Can’t write at work, no time. Paper?! Who uses that anymore? I flirt with the idea of bringing my dream journal back from the dead, but it dustily remains at the top of my wardrobe. Then I got a new laptop for my birthday and I can’t seem to find any more excuses. It sits there, with its light up keyboard and clutch-like, stylish mobility and what else can I do? But write?
So here’s my starting point – as measly as it may be – gotta start somewhere, right?
And that brings me to my next dilemma – and it makes me realize there is a theme running around here – just not sure why.
I have a week long holiday. It starts in two days and I haven’t made a single solid plan. I have a million ideas, a gazillion places I want to visit, so very many places I have not been and MUST explore. I have been living in Turkey for the past two years and have yet to get out and acquaint myself with the surrounding countries. I am in the heart of the world – to my east I have the great and all mighty Middle East – most of which should wisely be off limits for my current explorations, but Beirut pulls me in this tempting direction. The Balkans lie to the north and the southern half is yet to be discovered by my wandering soul. Then there’s Greece to my east and Cyprus to my south – ah, all the very many places to explore.
Getting back to my dilemma – why have I not chosen a location? I know I am notorious for last minute planning, but come on! Two days?! So I think I will most likely hop on a plane to Belgrade and take it from there. My shaky itinerary consists of Belgrade, Sarajevo, Mostar, Dubrovnik and Skopje. Unreliable transport and a plethora of languages I do not know… ah, home. I miss my solitary adventures, but honestly, it all feels a bit on the intimidating side – all that unknown, all that time to think – god only knows what I will come up with out there on my own. And therein lies the reason why I need to go. Travel feeds my soul and I’ve been feeling a bit malnourished as of late. I really don’t think it matters what destination I pick, as long as I PICK one – by the ticket and go. I need to put some WD40 on my travel brain and get back to where I am uncomfortable and unsure – for only there do I ever really feel truly alive.
And since I am also notorious for rambling, I will cut it short and post – first blog in over a year. Hopefully my next attempt will be a bit more profound and slowly the cobwebs and rust will work themselves free and maybe, just maybe I can get back to feeling like a ‘fairly good’ writer again.