Driftwood


Now and again it happens. I hate it when the voices in my head go silent. I never know what those fuckers are up to. It unnerves me a little, it makes me ask myself questions. Doubt can creep in. It's like maybe they are sat there, arms folded, eyebrows raised and looking at me, waiting for my next move to scrutinise. But shouldn't it always be their move first? After all they turn the ignition in my brain to kickstart the body.

Or maybe they are doing it on purpose. They are provoking me by doing absolutely nothing. They speak to each other in silence. I am envious of that. Maybe that's why I hate it. That's what they are up to.

I feel like driftwood, waiting for a current to take me somewhere. There are no white, dotted line guidelines on the road, no shipping lanes. Just drifting. Maybe I'll just rock up on some shore somewhere. Or maybe there are times when this is what I am supposed to do. There are a lot of maybes in this piece I'm writing.

So my thoughts have been thrown overboard. Anything preconceived goes with them. I let myself drift. Is that what you are up to, you fuckers? Those preconceived opinions and thoughts like a train full of passengers chugging along it's predetermined track of destiny, when some of the best driving has been done in a 4x4 over sand dunes and dirt tracks in Boa Vista. And yes, there will be other dunes, desert and dirt to venture on. We are aware, we go with it. On the way back to Sal Rei in that 4x4 pick-up, the driver does just that; pick up people hitching a lift to town. These inhabitants know we are heading in to town, but they don't know about whereabouts in town. I am not sure of where I am going, but to be honest, I don't think I have ever known. Maybe the road knows better than me. So hell yeah, why not just tag along with it. The sun rises each day but we don't know where the day will take us. Although we can have an influence on it.

One thing is for certain - even if we drift, no two days will be the same. We don't want to reach the end of our days and look back to see just one day. Don't worry, too many days to look back on in our old age will not be a sign of dementia, it will be a fulfilling sign. The road will change and at times we need to let it change us (Change). It may seem strange, but it can help us find our way, drifting that is to say. This paragraph is starting to drift...this post has just rocked up on your page... Nelson Mandela once said 'there's nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered'.

You're still a bunch of fuckers though.

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