your next bold
listening: your next
bold move ani difranco
The thing I love about travelling is, (as if I haven't told you enough of things that I love about travelling, and by now it must've seemed that travelling is the only thing I love) no matter how gruelling is the journey (23++ hours on the train each way, moving mainly at night, it's pitch black outside and you can't see shit, but you know you're cutting through some forsaken place by the very rare sightings of some kind of lighting, and with this scarce amount of illumination usually all that's revealed is some huge scary mythical-creature-like tree silhouettes, and you're the only one in the coach awake, fidgeting and cursing your imagination while others are dozing fitfully in their economy seats. The optimistic point that I was trying to make is after this sentence.), I feel deservedly out of place. Due to the nature of travelling, which usually involves getting out of one place and into another, this feels like the right thing to feel. If you feel out of place in a place you call home, like, for instance, your own home, then surely there's something wrong with you, or this place you're calling home. Usually it's you, because there's no termite problem, the plumbing's fine, and everyone else seems happy. So you feel even more displaced, and even ungrateful, for not feeling at home, at home. If I'm making any sense at all. Sense seems to be not my strongest suit lately, if ever at all.
But in a train, moving at what feels like 5 kilometres per hour, surrounded by complete, amusing, snoring strangers, cutting across deserts or Mars for all you know (although you should know, as Mars' sky is pink, if that's the only thing I remember from reading science encyclopaedias, and I'm not swearing by this little nugget of interplanetary information either. The optimistic point that I was trying to make is after this sentence.), you feel so out of place, and that's exactly what you're supposed to feel.
And oh yeah, by the way, the Gold Coast trip was totally awesome.
The site will be on hiatus for a while, I think. I don't know, two weeks, two months, indefinite. As most things in life.
previous entry: travel-sized hair gel (july 9, 2002)