365.10m 2013.07.05

‘Do you think I know what I’m doing? That for one breath or half-breath I belong to myself? As much as a pen knows what it’s writing, or the ball can guess where it’s going next.’ – Jelaluddin Rumi

The spirit of freewriting is upon us.

10 – 15 minutes, let it go.


2 thoughts on “Next

  1. “You missed your train sir,” an eager young lad commented.

    “That’s okay. I am in no rush and I will wait for the next,” an older gentleman replied.

    “The next train does not go to the same destination as the one you missed.”

    “Well, in the end do you think we know where we are going?” He said looking out from his newspaper. The old man folded his newspaper in half, then in half again and placed it in an opened briefcase that lay next to him, closing it afterwards. The briefcase was old and full of stickers that proved that he was not one to skip an adventure. He removed his glasses, folding down one arm, placing the other securely in his left chest pocket. He patted them in and looked up.

    “Tell me son what are your ambitions in life? What adventures have you taken?”

    The young lad looked at him puzzled and could only think of one thing to say. “I still have time to figure out what I want to do, I am still young.”

    The older gentleman chuckled as he gently touched the oval country decals that consumed his case. “Ah, the things that are wasted on the youth, time.”

    He paused, waiting for a response, but the young lad just looked at him confusingly knowing that there was more to the comment. “When I was 16 I saved enough money from grocery bagging that I packed my backpack and took off to the first new place I could see. We lived in Portland, Maine and my first adventure was into Canada. It was the most exhilarating moment in my youth. I was free, exploring new worlds and gaining education that a book cannot teach you. This was my first taste for the world and I couldn’t be stopped. After exploring east to west I traveled overseas, using my words and the goods that I collected to barter for food and shelter. There was never a dull moment in my life and there never was a path carved out. I never bothered with knowing what I was going to next with my life. So as you can see, it does not matter which train I ride, it will lead me to where I was meant to go.”

    A small smile crossed the old man’s face when he spoke those last words, but it quickly faded as he gasped for air, frantically reaching for something in his case. The young lad lounged to help, but the old man’s hand found what it was looking for and raised a clear plastic mask to his face. Oxygen. He took several deep breaths and removed the cup, saying,

    “Even in the end you don’t know what is next, so why live your better days without adventure.”

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