Wandering spirit

I sometimes think that writing and wandering are alike. Writing is wandering among streets and words until an unsual spot is discovered: it may be a street, or a mood, or an idea, or maybe just a trace of oneself... I am a wanderer, an urban wanderer, trying to sense how life feels elsewhere.


I sometimes think that self discipline is crucial. And there is no time for wandering. I panic. I restrain all my words from pouring themselves on paper and I stop. I stop and look around where those wanderers lose their souls. But I am here. I hang on a wall, on a chair, on a lightful room. I hang on, I just hang on.


  1. Nowadays, I use to wander... But more than wander, I drift away in oceans of "what ifs"... And then, as sudden as I left, I'm back again and I hang myself on the wall.

  2. Here's what I found this morning in the book I am reading:
    "Finally we are primarily wanderers, not decision makers. Over the past century, people tnded to conceive decision making as a point in time. You amass the facts and the circumstances and evidence and then make a call. In fact, it is more accurate to say that we are pilgrims in a social landscape. We wander across an environment of people and possibilities. As we wander, the mind makes a near-infinite number of value judgements, which accumulate to form goals, ambitions, dreams, desires and ways of doing things. The key to a well-lived life is to have trained the emotions to send the right signals and to be sensitive to their subtle calls".


Trimiteți un comentariu