One of those days where it’s all happening again and you think about your life and where you are, and you just want to crank the volume and get to somewhere else, or maybe get some sort of release and go from there. Maybe. You’re not sure, but you try to be sure, anyway.

Or, at least, that is what I am trying.

So many thoughts wandering and I look out my window, and I just need to move from them. I need to get away from where my thoughts are and I need to move. I need to look forward and travel, and I need to go wherever it takes me and keep wandering and looking forward. Maybe I’ll blink; maybe I won’t, but I’ll leave the city as I travel and I’ll se what lies around me.

I’ll travel far and wide, and I’ll see the gums as they give way to the cultivated land around them, and I’ll mourn for a land I didn’t know, still do not know and is not mine to know. I’ll shed tears at the state of the land and I will keep walking into the night.

I’ll walk through the night and I’ll be under the stars, and hopefully traffic is low, and the land is dark and almost nonexistent. I’ll be able to feel it, sure. I’ll be able to experience it, but I will not see it and so one of my sense will fail me. Then again, there will be parts where it does become visible, but only part of what is around me, and only an impression of what it is, but that will be enough. I will keep on walking and looking for something. I will look to remove myself from my thoughts.

No, that is not true. I will look to have the space needed to parse and understand my thoughts, and hopefully enough space to understand what it is that they are telling me. That is what I hope, but of course I am not sure if that is what I will have. Regardless, it is what I will seek.

Eventually dawn will come and I will be a single speck of nothingness in the vastness of an old and weathered country, and my walk will, despite my pace, remain slow and insignificant. However, it will carry me forward and I will keep on going.

Maybe I will head toward the sea, though not by intention but rather by where I feel compelled, and I will feel the breeze as it directs me elsewhere, and I will see water in many states of energy and vigour. I will walk the cliffs and I will see scrub and emptiness, and it will be full of life, and eventually my pace may carry me home. Where home is I may no longer be sure, but I know that I may be carried there, and when I return I may have found some peace, perhaps through acceptance.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:36:58

I like how this turned out. Of course it could be better, but I think the writing works well in getting some semblance of imagery across.

Written at home.