It’s what I do. Wherever I find myself to be, I’ll always dream of being elsewhere. There’s a world out there and I am more than determined to make myself more than just an acquaintance to it. If it were a feasible option, I’d have nothing but a laptop, money, friends, a backpack and keys to lockers in every country (where I’d keep some of my stuff).
I don’t want a place to call home. Since my teens, I’ve never wanted to call one particular place ‘my home’. It’s an abstract concept and I have no intention of calling a neat collection of bricks, stone or metal ‘a home’. I want to drive and ride and fly and sail and see everything, everywhere. I don’t want to stop. I never want to stop. Nothing will stop me.
You’d think hearing stories of people who have died and narrowly escaped death, witnessing a train crash moments after it happened, nearly drowning as a child under a raft, or being in a plane just after take off and seeing your dad trying to find out why the engines just died… one would think these would traumatise and discourage someone from ever traveling again.
I’ve often thought about how I’d survive a plane crash, whether my dad was flying or a professional pilot in a 747. I’ve often been on trains wondering how I’d get out as soon as possible, should the train derail or even end up in a fiery collision. I can’t even look at pictures of underwater creatures at the bottom of the oceans without cringing, but nothing will deter my passion for travel.
This passion to leave, be it a place or time or situation, comes with undoubted consequences. Namely, not everyone you’re connected to can go with you. Your friends. Your family. Your pets. Your colleagues. Your home. Your neighbourhood. Your childhood. All of it, all of them, will be left behind. The kink in the dream of being everywhere at once. And while all this, or even one of the aforementioned may be reason enough to anchor oneself to the ground on which they stand, I cannot honestly say any of these affect me at all.
Not to sound like a cold selfish bastard, but I’m more than ready to leave everything behind. I’m ready to never see my parents and sister again. I’m ready to never see my friend, whom I’ve known for over 15 years, ever again. I’ve never had pets and everything else can kiss my ass. I’ve made and lost friends and I’ll eventually make and lose friends again. Nothing is perpetual.
As heartless as this may sound, most people who know me would describe me as friendly, funny and even lovable at times. Although I’d flirt with any woman who tickled my fancy and go out with anyone who didn’t irritate the shit out of me, I’ve always spared my true affection for those I’ve found to be worthy of it.
“I love you” are words I find hard to simply throw at someone I like, even share with someone I love. I like that. I like the fact that, to me, they still retain their value. That’s how it should be. Love should be shared with those who are an exception to the rule. Not with those who become a whole new passion or experience. Not those who make your heart skip a beat. Not even those who give you all the things you’ve longed for all your life. The attention, the affection, the favours and the moments. Gravy. That’s all it is.
I have only one passion. To improve my life, be it through learning or experience, a book, a website, social interaction or even traveling, which I favour the most. I don’t want to focus on anyone else but myself, as selfish as it sounds. I will never dedicate myself to another. I’ll never die for someone, never give up everything for someone, never climb the highest mountain or even swim around the world for someone. You can take all that prefabricated cliché romantic crap and shove it.
The only way I could love anyone is for that person to be a part of me. My love is for no one but those who share my passion. Who won’t deter me from this and substitute the fire inside me with another. When I feel our paths merge, when I feel our hearts and minds fuse, when I feel I can no longer survive without you… you have me. You have me when you’ve become the world I want to explore, when you’ve become the life I want to live and the moments and experiences I want to remember.
On this lonely flight through the clouds of uncertainty, if you’re sitting next to me in the pilot’s seat and I can trust you to bring me wherever I want to go, you have my love, because then it’ll be our destination.
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One Comment
I find myself restraining from bringing my need for change to the surface primarily to spare myself the looks of horror as people gawk at what seems to be disregard for life. As much as I love my children, even them I will eventually leave in light of exploration and expansion of horizons. As they get older though and I accustom myself to being out in the world, they will join me. They won’t live the sheltered life that has trapped me for so long. Essentially, how good of a parent could I really be with little to no worldly experience. What can you teach a child about the world if you have never truly been in it. Call me what you will, I will follow my goals regardless.
Traveling does not equal absence. It’s hiatus from routine, escape from binding realities and a true venture into what most people see as fleeting release. The people we leave behind are never really gone from our lives as the nature of travel accommodates eventual return. Those that truly matter understand such needs and accept those they care about as individuals. If you find yourself in the company of people who resent your need, you’re better off without them and their pitiful attempts to tie you down anyway.
One thing I must disagree on is that nothing is perpetuating. No matter where you are or what you are doing, there is always a cycle… always some need within that never leaves. That is perpetual. Like it or not. Here and gone, here and there and gone… over and over. But it’s the only cycle one can find themselves in that truly enlivens the spirit.
You may find yourself in quite a bind, just as I have, in the search for companionship though. There are very few who can see “love” for what it is any more. It has become a platitude tossed out at random. Exactly as you mentioned, a sentiment given abundantly in the light of new experience and feelings caught in a moment. If you can live without a person, it is not love as it should be. Mere affection can be found around every corner but it wears such a clever guise that the masses have lost the ability to discern it from love in its purest form. Such is life, this is the world as we know it. Without the desire to spread yourself so thin as to blanket the world with your presence, your chances of finding such a thing are the equivalent of zero. Anything short of that and you are simply settling.
I have a feeling that whomever you choose to accompany such a grandiose mission in self expansion would be one hell of a unique personality. I’d certainly like to meet such a person as I, in my typical misanthropy, have lost faith in the existence of such an individual.
All that we seek is scattered so far from where we stand that without drive, what ends up really being left behind is who we are. I have little doubt that I’d have to sit back and watch that happen to you.
Perspective is real. Intention is a game. Motivation is the key. The world is only the door.