Wednesday, January 12, 2005

"What's a matter McFly, you yellow?"

The world that unwinds from the tarmac seems to enter me through my eyes and nose and pulse along my veins. Motion's become a drug to me, I crave it more and more as years go by, it's become my response to sorrow, my way of acting out joy. Maybe part of it is running away not dealing, I know it's great liberation to cut the strings of domestic bullshit and live on your feet. Sometimes I think I just deal better with my problems when I'm traveling/exploring. I get a better view and I weed shit out with a keener eye and a fresh take.
I think I just like the world a lot better when shit is immediate, when priorities are priorities, the real ones, food, shelter, safety. Even getting on a skateboard is extremely therapeutic. It forces you to explore and pay attention to the immediate, otherwise you'll be left counting your teeth or under someone's front tire.
I'll find myself in the midst of a forty hour work week and daydreaming about being in World war 2. A naive dream I'll admit but I won't totally right it off as all ignorance. I think the attraction in the immediacy. That closeness to life and death, walking side by side instead of the pastuerised kiddy gloved versions we accept in the back of our domestic fuck fest. "I'll live then." "I don't want to think about death." This skewed relationship where life and death are like illegitimate children we send a birthday card to once a year. Then one day they show up when your old, useless and lonely just to say "fuck you Dad" and it's curtains.
I feel the things in me responding to the earth and all the matter I thought lifeless, the same makeup. My insides jiggle and chatter with everything around me, that feeling of synchronicty I've found is best expierienced through motion, through travel. Outside events start to coincide with inside events. As you open up to the universe it turns and opens back up to you. Like we learned in the Back to the Future trilogy, the future hasn't been written, it's a moving thing that is constantly being alterted. When Death come it'll come but the beauty is you'll keep moving, motion will continue.
Whether on a tin can death trap struggling up a one lane mountain road, a descending aircraft heard from an open field, a rattling board on a wet street. I am glad to be in motion and thankful that I'm such a lucky Junkie.