Planning some spontaneous travel.

Try and get your head around that concept then!

Well, here I am, with the first week ahead of me, and I'm looking at a number of potential things; Amongst all of the art I'm doing for people and myself, all of the recording of music and the drinking of coffee, I want to go and see some folks. Trains, all the way, everywhere. I love 'em. They're my key to all this - that said, I only have two certain destinations - Canterbury and Home. Thus far, there's nowhere else which cries out to me - Everyone has exams and suchlike, so finding people to visit is proving something of a labour.

It's odd - Despite the fact that I have basically no responsibilities for the next 3 weeks, I feel a strange pressure on my shoulders. Maybe I've built up too much of an idea of how I'm supposed to spend this time in my confused old noggin. It wouldn't surprise me - I'm entirely capable of thinking too much about nothing.
I just wish it'd leave - I want to feel different, I want to break they rhythm, and that simply can't happen if I'm captured by time and thought and process and systematic response. I want to be able to tell someone I'm coming to see the a day before I do, then to get on a train early, spend a day in good company and head back to places I know with a new experience under my belt.

I think what I'm trying to do is eradicate fear - there isn't much in me, but there's enough still that can crush me if it gets a chance. I know that if something were to go against my "spontaneous planning" that, at this point, I'd probably freak out a little. I mean, I know from past experiences that I've been able to handle that kind of madness before. It's there though, that little bit of worry that I so desperately wish would sod off to the tiny, dank cave it lives in, far away in the winding valleys and vistas of my head.

I'll keep you up to speed on what happens, if anything. Those of you who know me will be able to see if anything's different. Those who don't, then we obviously haven't spoken enough - I demand you email me at once.

'tonm. xx

Book of the Moment: "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac, p119.

Song of the Moment: "So Easy" by Becky Jules

I am not too humble to tell you that I can't do this alone.

I'm not having a faith crisis. I think it's more of a confused daze.

Do you know the sensation you experience when you're struck across the head? Like, a real blow to the temple, thrown to the ground job? Well, when you try to open your eyes, there are flickering lights covering everything you see and a sharp hum rings in your ears, as if your senses are trying to reconfigure themselves after a risky pull-the-plug-from-the-back reboot procedure.

I'm there. I pray and believe it's heard, but I can't see any results because of everything imparing my view of what should be. That sounds too confusing;

I can't see anything working. I know it is, but I can't see it, because of the shock. There, that's it.

I know that things will change eventually - Note, I use the term change, because "get better" is not a guarantee. At some point, near or far, there will be a new spark, a new thing to either clear away some of the concussion or strike me once again. I know we are saveable. (That's probably a word...) We-Me-My Family-can be saved, pulled up out of the dark place and set on the ground once again, with the blue skies above us and the fresh air pouring into our lungs.

The thing is, it's really scary here, now, waiting for that. I trust it'll happen; I just bloody wish I knew what form it's going to take.


'tonm.
xxx

Book of the Moment: n/a

Song of the Moment: "Dance" by Robbie Seay Band