Before The Journey Begins (Short Story)
May 7th 2009 13:25
Category: No Category
Somehow she had come to a starting discovery: She was alienated from her own sense of inner conflict!
It was all very well to revel in the first heady notes of this revelation for now, but how would this new turn of consciousness engineering affect the rest of her system? Was she ready to let go of the delusion that she could fit snugly and comfortably into a corner of society? Maybe if she let go of this search for a safety net she would discover that she could actually perform all the acts without risk of losing her balance.
She was reading three or four travel books at the same time - Sleeping Around by Brian Thacker, A Year In The World by Frances Mayes, Dark Safari Express by Paul Theroux and On The Road by Jack Kerouac. Somewhere in between the dysfunctional populace of the USA, the paranoia-inducing urban jungle of Africa, the cultured deep south of Spain and the colourfully gritty mosaic of humanity of South America, juggling different modes of self-awareness, vastly different strains of humour and appreciation for another cultures, she was finding out something that unsettled her: how much she was really holding back.
Perhaps her activities weren't varied enough. Perhaps she wasn't making enough real-world connections (but how, when everyone was so different?). Perhaps she could(n't) hold on just one more month before hopping onto a different continent, and drastically transforming her lifestyle.
For once, her plans to go on a long trip around Asia seemed aligned with the natural shift of the seasons: She would be escaping the Australian winter, which she had grown to find the gloomiest time in Sydney. The South-East of the island-continent's closest neighbour was never anything but hot and humid, and she was looking forward to ambling all about the Malaysian peninsula and above... perhaps into India and back.
She envisioned herself analysing the visitors of the hostels along the way, to get an idea of how Western (and some non-Western) travellers were responding to the locale (and perhaps how the locale was impacted by them). Perhaps she could stay for a week in one particular lodging and write an entire chapter of a book about it!
Anything was possible...
Asia wasn't her first choice. If she had more money she would spend years exploring Europe and North America, then Latin America and the Caribbean. She would then return to Japan, and onto other countries of great interest (there were a lot).
She was particularly interested in going to every interesting major town in Western Europe and the USA... From Faro, Portugal to Helsinki, Finland, or even St Petersburg, Russia, and from Reykjavik, Iceland to Crete, Greece. From San Diego to the North-East of Maine, and from Seattle to Miami... that would be the life.
But that would have to wait... for now, she envisioned herself starting off in Singapore or Kuala Lumpur, dedicating two weeks or so to Malaysia, then three to four weeks to Thailand, making her way slowly up towards Bangkok, from where she would either discover some spaces to the north or go on directly to India. She had no idea where in India she might land, and how much of it she might see - four weeks' worth, perhaps? Then it would be time to return to KL or Sing and come back to Australia, rested, at peace, and ready to take on another adventure lying around the corner...
This promise of a burst of paradise - hammocks and sunshine, temples, mosques and churches, fine food and refreshing drinks, and, most importantly, vast reserves of adventurous travel pals she could symbolically clink cups with - made her giddy with excitement and soothed her nerves at the same time.
Would she feel spiritually awakened enough to confront her conflict abroad, welcome its revitalising aspects and shun its lingering toxicities? Would she let herself really live, know that she could contemplate the phrase 'wherever you go, there you are' and not feel pain seeping in? To forget the notion of regret, to reinvent the need to vent... such poetic intricacies of the human psychology she hoped to tease out and nurture into shape... before letting them dissipate as new, more urgent issues surged into cognition.
She could chalk up a geographically plausible journey over imagined, simulated and/or distorted Asian terrain, but who knew, really, where she would go.
It was all very well to revel in the first heady notes of this revelation for now, but how would this new turn of consciousness engineering affect the rest of her system? Was she ready to let go of the delusion that she could fit snugly and comfortably into a corner of society? Maybe if she let go of this search for a safety net she would discover that she could actually perform all the acts without risk of losing her balance.
She was reading three or four travel books at the same time - Sleeping Around by Brian Thacker, A Year In The World by Frances Mayes, Dark Safari Express by Paul Theroux and On The Road by Jack Kerouac. Somewhere in between the dysfunctional populace of the USA, the paranoia-inducing urban jungle of Africa, the cultured deep south of Spain and the colourfully gritty mosaic of humanity of South America, juggling different modes of self-awareness, vastly different strains of humour and appreciation for another cultures, she was finding out something that unsettled her: how much she was really holding back.
Perhaps her activities weren't varied enough. Perhaps she wasn't making enough real-world connections (but how, when everyone was so different?). Perhaps she could(n't) hold on just one more month before hopping onto a different continent, and drastically transforming her lifestyle.
For once, her plans to go on a long trip around Asia seemed aligned with the natural shift of the seasons: She would be escaping the Australian winter, which she had grown to find the gloomiest time in Sydney. The South-East of the island-continent's closest neighbour was never anything but hot and humid, and she was looking forward to ambling all about the Malaysian peninsula and above... perhaps into India and back.
She envisioned herself analysing the visitors of the hostels along the way, to get an idea of how Western (and some non-Western) travellers were responding to the locale (and perhaps how the locale was impacted by them). Perhaps she could stay for a week in one particular lodging and write an entire chapter of a book about it!
Anything was possible...
Asia wasn't her first choice. If she had more money she would spend years exploring Europe and North America, then Latin America and the Caribbean. She would then return to Japan, and onto other countries of great interest (there were a lot).
She was particularly interested in going to every interesting major town in Western Europe and the USA... From Faro, Portugal to Helsinki, Finland, or even St Petersburg, Russia, and from Reykjavik, Iceland to Crete, Greece. From San Diego to the North-East of Maine, and from Seattle to Miami... that would be the life.
But that would have to wait... for now, she envisioned herself starting off in Singapore or Kuala Lumpur, dedicating two weeks or so to Malaysia, then three to four weeks to Thailand, making her way slowly up towards Bangkok, from where she would either discover some spaces to the north or go on directly to India. She had no idea where in India she might land, and how much of it she might see - four weeks' worth, perhaps? Then it would be time to return to KL or Sing and come back to Australia, rested, at peace, and ready to take on another adventure lying around the corner...
This promise of a burst of paradise - hammocks and sunshine, temples, mosques and churches, fine food and refreshing drinks, and, most importantly, vast reserves of adventurous travel pals she could symbolically clink cups with - made her giddy with excitement and soothed her nerves at the same time.
Would she feel spiritually awakened enough to confront her conflict abroad, welcome its revitalising aspects and shun its lingering toxicities? Would she let herself really live, know that she could contemplate the phrase 'wherever you go, there you are' and not feel pain seeping in? To forget the notion of regret, to reinvent the need to vent... such poetic intricacies of the human psychology she hoped to tease out and nurture into shape... before letting them dissipate as new, more urgent issues surged into cognition.
She could chalk up a geographically plausible journey over imagined, simulated and/or distorted Asian terrain, but who knew, really, where she would go.
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Comment by RubySoho
Music Zone
Thought Zone
What a brilliant line.
Comment by Postmodern Critic
Postmodern Critic
Relativity Watch
Padsoc