Procrastinator: Location: My bedroom

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Me and Fiona...whom I met in Kerala 04. Birmingham 08. Doing what we seam to do best. Drinking! Sorry about the angle
I turn 29 this year. And for the last 9 years I have dreamt of packing it all in, all up and getting away. Money, fear, laziness, commitments, fear, accomodation, money, fear. Have all conspired to keep it just a dream.

I can't think of anything that has continued to inspire, excite and exhilerate me for that period of time. I guess you could say that I have a 'short attention span'. If God has a voice. I believe that is it. The quite voice constantly in my head telling me "to have no fear and follow my heart". This is no attempt to sound poetic. as I look around, my humble surrounding, they are far from poetic. In fact they are a shambolic, messy, disorganized affair, very reminiscent of what is going on in my head.

I could show pictures of the flat (too ashamed), but what is going on in my head...well..I have no x-ray machine. It wouldn't be pretty anyway.

I have to go.

My life has become a merry go round of parties, recreational enjoyment, a job I'm not sure if I love or hate. Employers I'm sure I hate. Unhealthy amounts of time spent on the internet, a NVQ course I have been talking about doing, and books staring at me, that I NEVER pick up. I'm scaring myself. I ts like i'm in some kind of depression. I mean to the outside world I'm high functioning, bell of the ball, high heeled diva...blah, blah blah.

But somewhere, somehow, I have had a mental disconnect, and I'm drowning. Deciding to go on this trip isn't running away. I feel like it's coming home.

I will not, I will not, repeat that cliche....but I have too... My desire isn't so much one born out of desire to see temples or elephants, or white water raft. I have no fricking clue what I want to do whilst I'm there. But a man I met on a beach in Kerala told me one miraculous thing. 'No plan" he said stacey, as we got over our initial awkwardness and got to know each other.

Mark and I were oil and water, rough and smooth, a perfect match. He was nearly fifty, and one of the most amazing, serene people I have ever met. 'No plan' he said....I extended my trip by another week. 6 weeks later, I hear that the hotel we stayed in has burnt down, Marks' lover has left him, and his "idea" of moving to india has been shelved. Mark, of the chinos, snorkelling crazy, material buying Mark, is back in blighty....with.. no plan!

I want to have more experiences like Mark. For me travelling is as much about people, the places are a bonus. If that's the case why cant I just stay here you say?

Well like I said. I'm drowning. Traveling is my attempt at swimming.

India: Been twice. Kerela 1 week..met Mark, Fiona, Tina (the alkie) and it turnout into 2 weeks. Fifi and I are still friends 4 years later.

Goa. For two weeks, got a moped, and drove around, Anjuna, the markets, Baga, Calangute causing chaos. Young black woman, sunglasses, streaming hair, and a colourful skirt, are not as common place as you might think in backpacker land. I stopped traffic, but at times this is very dangerous. the bloody cows are everywhere. I met these randoms, and we took our bikes up to Arambol, to look around, then drove back to Anjuna before night fall, got a taxi and went back for a full moon party on the fresh water lake. Safety first.

After walking for ever in pitch black, in a sari skirt,and plastic flip flops that slipped on the rock and threatened to throw me into the sea that was lapping at the rocks below me. Finally we reach this large area of sand, which looks like it's suspended in the middle of the sea and this crazy trance party is in full swing. I'm with 6 people I don't know, have no clue how to get out....Then the police turn up

These are some of the memories I have of India...not so much the police rocking up...they simply shut off the party and I lost a few rupee....but the spontaneity, the fusion of people, adrenaline, and sheer lack of a 'plan'.

I feel nostalgic, and am wandering if I sound like a complete wanker. Probably do to the died in the wool...'the world is my haven't seen india..until'....brigade....Screw them anyway..I'll do it 'my way'. My Grandads favourite Frank Sinatra song...stubborn old man. My Grandad, that is. Not Frank Sinatra.

But for me these are the things I remember. I want to fill my head with memories like this. Not to erase my past, but to arrange a much brighter canvas on which to arrange my future

God in excited.
funislandgirl says:
I totally get what you are saying.......COngrats on the feature :)
Posted on: Jun 12, 2010
fifirella76 says:
Aww fond Inidan memories.....
Posted on: Feb 04, 2010
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Me and Fiona...whom I met in Keral…
Me and Fiona...whom I met in Kera…
photo by: ulysses