last year i ran away. from people. from familiarity. from the routine. i was tired, ready to scream out against the ordinary. i drove to the hills, perhaps hoping that within the folds of the mountains, i will find clues to understand myself, including the need to escape. i had never taken off like that before. i look back on that day with myself with fondness. i thought i was going to do this often.
but this time around i escaped that very solitude. i sought out people, familiarity, a day where i dont search for meanings, for purpose, where i dont really reflect or take stock of things, where i dont make resolutions.
how is it that what was so right and perfect once is just not what you even consider later. the riddles are much the same, but the routes to crack it change all the time. or is it that there is really no solution, no end of the puzzle ever. the routes are all there is. and as i have gone about avoiding the beaten track and taking convoluted pathways, have i come to a point where i am ready to be surprised by the ordinary and if i am not, it doesnt put me off either.
i dont mind the chit chat of life. the conversations i seek may very well lie in all this general blah. i may never find them but its ok as long as i know i can run away from it whenever i wish to. perhaps the point is that i am an eternal escapist. i am getting to like it now.
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