There must
be a million of gods out there that gets prayed to. This is mine:
riding the steel tracks, southbound, over the waves of snow, so very
present in the motion. Hear my prayers.
I'm trying
to grow up. It is hard. And harder still when the tentacles of the
past are still entwined around my ankles, not letting go, like a
naughty child that refuses to be left behind. But, fake it until you
make it and consequently I have been applying for what is considered
as mature and responsible positions.
Trying to
manifest new behaviour. Moving into unknown territory.
I've seen
people do it on TV.
… thus,
I found a position, perfect position. Follow up interviews and all.
Too good to be true. And it turned out to be exactly that. So I don't
understand my god; does he really want me to become a telemarketer
again (a brief position I held whilst living in 'Dam, where I had
the luxury of being constantly stoned, the only possible state
acceptable if you have to call total strangers up and ask them corky
questions)?
[during the proofreading of this piece I received a phone call from a teleresearch company scheduling an interview - god? is that you??]
So I'm
leaving town. I decided to stop putting my life on hold for something
that potentially can happen in the future and rather receive and
enjoy the gifts of this abundant world (while it lasts). One being a train ticket with an invitation.
When I
travelled to Bruxelles I left my worries at the French border, and lo
and behold they were ready to be picked up exactly where I had dumped
them. This time, although there are no border crossing, I'll be
leaving my worries at the train station, to be picked up on my
return. Unless there are any takers? Any?
Destination:
Saint-Etienne.
Destiny:
unknown.
Don't stop. Believing.
