Saturday, December 06, 2003
I would give almost anything to live the life that Ian Wright lives. Ahh, whoever heard of getting paid to trek round the world, to walk the roads of oblivion in places long forgotten or to taste of life in all it's transcendence and yet be able to savor the ephemeral pleasures of it all.
I pity the people who can't appreciate that which lies beyond their eyes; their lack of imagination only hinders them from using all their senses in relishing the transient bliss that one enjoys when chancing upon new places one has no prior memory of. It's that short-lasting feeling of novelty that you get when you first reach a foreign country, the feeling that maybe, just maybe, the myriad of unfamiliar faces and places will be enough to convince one's subconscious that it's alright to let go of the burdens of the past to make way for the formation of newer and more deserving memories there; that these places provide a blank canvas for one's mind to paint whatever it so desires without having to worry that previous memories will taint it because these are foreign lands that one has no previous experience of. The brief hope that one would be able to enjoy the foreign, and therefore unique characteristics of each place, in the spirit of someone with no burdens at all, and at the same time be able to replace certain memories of long ago that are somehow still plaguing one with more memorable ones of the present.
If only that feeling would last.
But somehow it only whets my appetite for more.
The road to quenching the wanderlust is a long and never-ending journey, don't you think.
Shu at 11:21 PM
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