Plastic dreams

Let me be your fantasy said a sassy voice in the back of my head. Let me take you to another level… I was young then, I could say yes. No fear, no inhibition, no remorse… Above all, no precedence.

I followed suit, I had the best life of my time, but then it was life’s choice to force me to move. Leave everything behind. This time it was not a sassy voice, but a harsh, coarse one… I followed that as well, still naïve, still believing that I could somehow leave and return at will, that I had the strength and skill to do so. That soon came to an end.

The voices gone and what remained behind was the mess I created…
A mess I love – because I cannot not love my life and my existence – and loath at the same time with fervent passion and conviction. What’s next, I wonder? How much more can it go and for how long? I can’t help but wander and try to find it again.

That unique sense of completion and fulfilment. That unique sense of bond – physical, emotional and mental – and that need to love and devote one’s self to someone and something.

You showed me life; now show me how to live…

I have been screaming that to an invisible, imaginary friend and foe, lover and abuser, mentor and competitor with no avail, no answer.

So I roam and I’ll keep on roaming until the blind man sees again, and until I find the secret of the alchemists… it was not how to turn lead into gold (look hard and good and you will see that the greatest of them has succeeded) but how to saturate the need to change…