Current Status: Re-imagining life.

Life got to a point in which everything got very absurd, so I sold my belongings, donated the revenue to the poor and followed Jesus...almost.

It's been quite a while since I've been feeling stuck. It's gotta be that I'm too ambitious. I mean, there's a whole bunch of new oportunities/challenges presenting themselves, but somehowI don't feel like I'm moving. One of these days, I woke up almost accepting that I was going to be this old man who had lived a lot, got almost nothing material, and sat down in his porch, watching the absurdity of the world and waiting for his death. Maybe that's what awaits me, and so be it. However, I, like a hopeless dreamer, cannot help thinking there's gotta be more to life and setting new goals. Who knows, maybe 26 is not too old to ditch the world and have a fresh start. Truth is I've been toying with the idea of living a year in France in my 29's. Why not? I've been taking my master's courses alright, but I wish to take a sabbatical next year, do not study, and just take a trip to Europe. I want to be thirty and disappear in Asia, one year in Japan just having sake in red lantern eatieries on the street and saying "watashi wa iopparai ya arimasen" even though I'm completely drunk and passed out beyond translation. Blame Eat, Pray, Love, but I wish to spend six months in Bali just listening to inner me and living a chillax life in Thailand. I want to think I can still re imagine myself, even in the eve of decay and flunking my courses.

And just as a side note, I wrote most of this drunk (how little this has changed.) I'm sober now and I think this makes the world of sense.

Puppet complex

Apart from my cocky attitude and my deeply rooted opposition towards religion, one thing is meant to stick with me for the entirety of my days: existencialism. I truly ignore if this happens only to me or if it is rather a disease of humanity, but at least once a year I stop all of the sudden and wonder: Wait! just what the hell are you doing and why???? The why is the most important part. Life seems ok until you feel the strings in your limbs, all pulling, one at the time and then all at once. You swiftly recognize how tangled you are and try desperatedly to free yourself. When did you allow everyone to tell you what do to, where to go? How come you stood this all this time?

This year has been tough in the sense that I rarely feel free to do what pleases me. I love my job, but as enjoyable as tasks might be, it is still eight hours a day of following guidelines.One string is pulling my left hand. I couldn't be more excited about the subjects I'm taking at University, but it translates into 6 hours of class a week and the universe knows how many extra hours of reading and writing afterwards. There's another string pulling my right wrist. It's nice to be surrounded by friends, but it becomes exhausting explaining to every single person who wants to hang out that you need a couple of nights just for yourself. My left knee feels fasten on the side. Insert all the family celebrations in the picture and how important is for you to attend not to come across as a bad son\brother\uncle\whatever other category I fit into. My right ankle is totally trapped. That's a lot to take for someone who wants, just for two days, that the world stops moving so fast and that what determines what to do in the next minute is always an imposition rather than a wish. 

Seriously, am I the only one who screams inside for a minute of instrospection, an hour of solitude, a day of introspection, a week of calmness? When one is blinded by what needs to be done, the true self can very easily suffer asphixia and die slowly. Above all, I'm afraid of yielding again without questioning. I don't want to tame the inner horse that, even after laboring in the fields, waits for the night to run freely and stomp on the saddle until is dust.