Of late, when I haven’t been wasting my time on worthless pursuits like YouTube binges, I have been getting in a decent amount of thinking. One of the trains of thought I find myself arriving at repeatedly is perhaps the one thing I fear more than death— Yes, I am afraid of death. And frankly, I believe most people are. It doesn’t mean I go through every day paranoid and suspicious.
There is no bigger backing for the claim that birds are Mighty and Majestic (yes, capital M&Ms), than the fact that us humans, to this day, call upon them prior to any major undertaking. “Eh?” you ask? Allow me to elaborate. Classical Roman society had certain priests who had pretty important roles. So important, in fact, that no major project, public or private, would commence without the involvement of these priests—even war and religion!
I am at home on the road, helmet-clad. I am tripping, yet in tune with the world. I am one with myself and my machine. Detached from my normal life, from the rat race, from the mundane tasks. A simple switch of lenses; wide-angle to macro—a narrow but crisp and focussed field of vision. Attached to the present—to the self and the machine, and to the world. Attached to being alive, to feeling, and to exploring.
Ending an exhausting yet fulfilling adventure, I board the 3.35 back to České Budějovice. On this return leg of my journey, all the cabins in 2nd class seem to be occupied by at least one weary privacy-seeker. The travellers turn away my optimism all the way to the end of the carriage, and I take a seat in the last cabin containing, unsurprisingly, an occupant in one of the window seats.
Hello! What am I and why do I have this blog?