Going away

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, March 12, 2009

We sleep half of our lives, which gives an average of 32 years we are awake. We just have thirty years to do all we can; to walk, to jump, to fly, to fall, to give, to recieve, to dream, to cry, to laugh, to hate... to love. We may not be concious of this all the time, we may not be aware that our time is running, we only have a limited amount of it; which pops the question: are we using it correctly?

I am a thirty thirty four year old man, which means I already used half of my half. And ever since I was in a bus crash, which ended in an explotion, I have used every minute of it. It is quiet sad indeed, that we need this sort of rock in our path to fully realise our potential. It was a man who reached the Himalaya's peek, it was a woman who discovered the radioactive energy, it was a child who made Pascal's theorem (guess who he was). And these people, they were all humans, they were all like us. We can accomplish things, we are not only working machines to produce offspring and then die. We are humans, and untill now, there is very few we can't do.

I sometimes wonder if I will ever do anything, anythign meaningful I mean. I wanted to go to space when I was a child, I also wanted to find the cure of whatever grandma had, I wanted to travel the world and find ancient gems from old sacntuaries. But it happens that I was not good at physics, or knowing senility was not a disease; and that I didn't know what an archeologist had to do most of the time. We have all these dreams, all this fantasies, but then we are faced with the real deal. 

"Honk!" I hear. I realise that I was blocking the traffic and so I proceed, thinking of the posibility of maybe someone hitting me by the back, and ending my daydreaming career. I drive some more in my bubble of thought when I notice I missed a turn, I had gone so many times to Heather's house, but somehow I always seem to forget where to give the turn, or if her building is the light or vanilla yellow. I wonder if it is a sign, I guess it is just my own personal lack of attention. 

Maybe I would make a terrible father, forgetting where the kids' school was, or letting them play with fire around the house. But now that is taking it too far, we're not even engaged; which is silly, I wouldn't like to scout again for a right girl. But maybe I just don't take the next step because I'm afraid things won't go right, what if it is like the astronaut thing? What if I'm not good at physics again, what if the real thing crushes the fantasy? Maybe I still hope that out there there is the perfect girl for me, my soul mate. Maybe I'm wasting both mine and Heather's time staying in this, maybe we're not right for each other after all. Then I hear Woo hoo by the 5, 6, 7, 8s. It's my phone, it's Heather, it's time.

I could probably get on a plane and jump off it, of course with the right euipment, I guess I would have to take some skydiving classes. Which wouldn't be cheap, so I'll just stick to bungee jumping this weekend. But I bet Joe won't want to, it took him centuries to make the decision of going the weekend away, then we should just hang out, he tends to go all comando escape when things are new. But well, I should pack the boogie board in case he gets in the mood, which won't really matter, I'll do it anyways. Sometimes I feel I get behind things just waiting him to come out of that bubble he lives in, with the world being so screwed as it is, the last thing we need are more people living inside their heads. 

Maybe that's why he gets stacked in his own thoughts, he gets deviated into a river of nothingness, thinking, of how could have it gone better. Half of the world population don't have access to decent health care, the climate change we caused is destroying everything, war and famine. Perhaps we should all just live in our own little worlds, at least there's safer, or well at least there is not so much injustice. But those are just ideas, I need action, so I take the phone and speed dial Joe, he better be soon this time.

I have started this weird routine for some time now. I wake up, and don't go out of bed until I hear something outside, something that tells me the world did turned on that day, something telling me I can make a change. Then I serve open the doors, literally and figurately, so the day can begin. Then, I just go out to the valcony and turn my head downwards, and just listen to everything. To the bird tweeting, the cars honking, the heavy trailers going trough a bumpy street, the wind in the third floor. It is like some chaotic personal symphony.

"Are you here?" I said, knowing he was going to say almost

"Yes, do I come in?" I said, she wasn't ready, I wasn't ready.

"Sure, I'll be out in just a minute" I couldn't really believe he was on time

"Okay" Would she be able to tell just by seeing at me?, that I was having doubts about us? Is it something you can see in a person?

And so as every day, I went at the balcony, where I heard two people talking, but they were far from each other.

So I got out, walked to the door, waited for that annoying ring and pushed the door, Heather soon disappeared from her opened door, she was probably missing thirty minutes of packing.

For once we were both ready, so I saw him, ran for my stuff and ran again to the door, I felt a little optimistic about the whole thing of going away.

Now there was running

She is back really fast, which is strange, stranger is the fact that she tackles me

I just run to him and kiss him

They stopped

It was sudden, it was relieving, the doubts shuted for a second

He was a bit dull, but we would get there...

It was a kiss

"Heather, there's a man watching us from the third floor" I say, noticing a creep staring flauntly at us.

"Don't mind him, he always does that, every mourning he goes out and does the same thing" I say, explaining way too much something of that relevance, the guy was no that creepy.

"What is he doing wearing sunglasses at this time of the mourning?" 

"He's blind" I say, not believing he didn't made the connection himself



[Planned to be this huge alegory, may have to read it carefully *rolls eyes*]
By I'm the penguin

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