It has been a while since I wrote. I don’t know why, but I’m full of words and nothing comes out. The more I feel I have to say, the less that comes out. (When the more I say, the less comes out). Does it make sense? I do not know. Does it matter? I do not know either.
Well, anyway, A few weeks ago, I went to this outdoor/pilgrimage thing.
The more empty I am now, the more full I was then. It turned out to be a great week. (Or: a great weak?).
For a week, I spend all time time walking, outdoors, mostly in the rain, walking this pilgrim path. With a group, full of new people, of different nationalities, different backgrounds. I didn’t know anyone. It was a bit difficult to adapt in the start, but it turned out really nice. I actually found the people very friendly and -as-far-as-I-can-say- I think I got along with them quite well. I didn’t manage to walk much with someone else, simply because the usual reason; somehow I can’t keep up with others, they have a different pace.
I slept outdoors, under the stars, under tarps, in old barns, but it was all good. No shower, no toilet, no kitchens, no dressingrooms. But it didn’t matter. It was the best.
The easier the roads are, the more difficult they are for me.
The more difficult the roads are, the more easy they are for me.
Cooking on self made campfires. Carrying all your load in a backpack. Walking all day through forest and mostly abandoned villages. Fights inside your own head. But I made it.
How quickly things can change in a few days. How quickly and different life can be. During the last day, going back in to the civilized world. Having trouble to adapt again. Is it really over?
Since I came back, things were not the same, and yet everything is the same.
I thought before, that life was okay again, with my job. But now, I realize it’s not.
My life is empty. It’s all meaningless. The job is okay, but I’m a ghost, an emptiness. What the hell, is this?