Innocent Abroad

It was something I could only express with my eyes and posture– this inimitable yearning, the indecipherable need to walk foreign avenues alone. The white panel van in front of me featured a waving American flag and the words ‘Love It Or Leave’ emblazoned on the side, and for as cavalier and ridiculous as that sentiment remains, there is an element of truth there. (my car only featured a crude linedrawing of Bush playing the fiddle and the phrase ‘Rome Is Burning– What Are You Going To Do About It?’)

Over the past few months I’ve seen the faces under fluorsecent lights– harsh and unflattering. I’ve lost my patience, my temper, my resolve. I’ve become restless in this situtation, cynical about my nation, resentful of family and friends, bitter about my relationships– the feeling of falling further out of touch with everything I knew I was. I became short with my friends, mute with my parents, ignorant of my siblings, resentful of the women I loved and spiteful towards those who loved me.

I haven’t slept at all this November.

I finish almost nothing that I start.

Just being in that country with those people; with the pianos and computers, video games and parties, the exhausting routine of regularity, and the volume of my own thoughts kept my hands hanging slack at my sides, powerless. I couldn’t breathe. Physically, morally, emotionally, artistically and spiritually I was dying, and only my eyes and posture betrayed that fact.

I have brought ghosts with me that I will leave all over this god damn continent.

The difference was not anyone but me. I have become too complacent and comfortable in my idiotic routines. This has been a process a long time coming and true to form, I was ready to leave long before I did. Having simply completed the task of coming here, I feel better already.

I believe we don’t do nearly enough things that frighten us.

Ask yourself: when was the last time you were truly terrified?

I know the answer to that question, and the last thing to terrify me was the prospect of being alone. But once again marvelous distraction and apathy swept much of that fear away in time, robbing me of the lesson.

I’m learning it again here– learning that it truly is what you make of it.
I’m talking with strangers.
I’m drinking coffee.
I’m dealing with the cold and making up for lost time.

I’m terrified and I love it.

Adam

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