An Arequipa city map, a napkin and a beer bottle cap sit on the bottom, while condoms and an unused match float in the murky stagnant water of the pool. I stare at these left overs, left overs of peoples one night mistakes and loss of memory thinking that this is exactly how my brain feels. Murky and unclean in a stagnant filth of remnants of everyone's good times, bad decisions and memories that may or may not want to be remembered. I try to sort through the lost inhibitions and dignity for something familiar and solid but I can only find lost moments of what was. Moments that I try to cling too, moments that I want back, moments, I know, that will never be; and so I swim through the murkiness of the polluted water, running out of oxygen, trying to find an opening in everyone's left overs so I can come up for air.
I grasp at anything or anyone that might be able to give me a bit of oxygen, to fill my lungs with some life...but as I search and struggle I realize that everyone around me is swimming in the murky water as well. I'm not the only one suffocating and searching for breath...my friends are trying to breathe as well...I don't seem to be the only one crashing...everyone around me is crashing.
I look around at the people I have come to love and see as my family, the people who open up their arms and their hearts to me when I'm down. I look at them and see that their magical havoc has stopped and they have crash landed in the dirty waters below. Whether its, love, a secret, a childhood demon, being lost, not remembering the night before, seeing the demons come out of others or just life itself everyone is crashing. The music has stopped, the constant laughter we once shared doesn't sail through the halls, the tight unit we had has shifted and changed, the whirlwind we shared has not just stopped for me it has stopped for everyone around me.
The only familiar sound is the clinking of the dice, the overtired playlist at the bar and the shouts of 321 Wild Rover, though even these things seem to have a different feel. But they continue on as do I, playing my role and over indulging in the dice game and free shots that go down as easy as water these days...masking what I feel so I can get through the nights that no longer have what they once had.
The loneliness of traveling can seem unbearable at times, even though I am a solo traveler and am always surrounded by others that I meet along the way I can feel more alone then anything. The once familiar quietness seems daunting that I hesitate to go towards its familiar sound of sobriety, focus and contentment; yet I can feel the warmth and the comfort of its security inviting me to come back...and I want to go back...I need to go back...its the only way I can find my gust of wind and keep floating instead of just lightly brushing along the surface hitting stray objects as I move in circles.
People keep saying "you should be used to this, its the life of a feather," and trust me I know, and its a beautiful life...I can't complain, even in down times I don't regret anything...but that doesn't mean it is always easier and that I won't fall into murky waters of leftovers and lost memories...sometimes we need to fall...its ok to lose sight of things and get swept up with others and ride the wind and swirl around, to be swept up into a magical havoc, but it has to stop and you must fall...because even though it hurts it reminds us that we are human...that we feel, that we love that we bleed. We need to be reminded of these things because when we are swirling in the havoc of the winds we feel invincible, that nothing can break us, and then it stops and we fall amongst memories. Falling tests our strengths and abilities and let's us know what we are made of...and I know what I'm made of...I have grown so much in the past four years and know that even after crashing nothing can stop me. Obstacles may slow me down, emotions may confuse me and my brain may get murky like the pool water or the smoke filled bar, I will fight my way through the waters, find that one ray of sunlight breaking through the almost non-existent visibility and follow it to the surface where oxygen and life will pump through me and lift me up onto my gust of wind to take me back on route of my destiny. For I am a feather on the wind and I am meant to float and travel where my wind takes me.
- My Beautiful Life -
I grasp at anything or anyone that might be able to give me a bit of oxygen, to fill my lungs with some life...but as I search and struggle I realize that everyone around me is swimming in the murky water as well. I'm not the only one suffocating and searching for breath...my friends are trying to breathe as well...I don't seem to be the only one crashing...everyone around me is crashing.
I look around at the people I have come to love and see as my family, the people who open up their arms and their hearts to me when I'm down. I look at them and see that their magical havoc has stopped and they have crash landed in the dirty waters below. Whether its, love, a secret, a childhood demon, being lost, not remembering the night before, seeing the demons come out of others or just life itself everyone is crashing. The music has stopped, the constant laughter we once shared doesn't sail through the halls, the tight unit we had has shifted and changed, the whirlwind we shared has not just stopped for me it has stopped for everyone around me.
The only familiar sound is the clinking of the dice, the overtired playlist at the bar and the shouts of 321 Wild Rover, though even these things seem to have a different feel. But they continue on as do I, playing my role and over indulging in the dice game and free shots that go down as easy as water these days...masking what I feel so I can get through the nights that no longer have what they once had.
The loneliness of traveling can seem unbearable at times, even though I am a solo traveler and am always surrounded by others that I meet along the way I can feel more alone then anything. The once familiar quietness seems daunting that I hesitate to go towards its familiar sound of sobriety, focus and contentment; yet I can feel the warmth and the comfort of its security inviting me to come back...and I want to go back...I need to go back...its the only way I can find my gust of wind and keep floating instead of just lightly brushing along the surface hitting stray objects as I move in circles.
People keep saying "you should be used to this, its the life of a feather," and trust me I know, and its a beautiful life...I can't complain, even in down times I don't regret anything...but that doesn't mean it is always easier and that I won't fall into murky waters of leftovers and lost memories...sometimes we need to fall...its ok to lose sight of things and get swept up with others and ride the wind and swirl around, to be swept up into a magical havoc, but it has to stop and you must fall...because even though it hurts it reminds us that we are human...that we feel, that we love that we bleed. We need to be reminded of these things because when we are swirling in the havoc of the winds we feel invincible, that nothing can break us, and then it stops and we fall amongst memories. Falling tests our strengths and abilities and let's us know what we are made of...and I know what I'm made of...I have grown so much in the past four years and know that even after crashing nothing can stop me. Obstacles may slow me down, emotions may confuse me and my brain may get murky like the pool water or the smoke filled bar, I will fight my way through the waters, find that one ray of sunlight breaking through the almost non-existent visibility and follow it to the surface where oxygen and life will pump through me and lift me up onto my gust of wind to take me back on route of my destiny. For I am a feather on the wind and I am meant to float and travel where my wind takes me.
- My Beautiful Life -
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