Alive?

Alive?

The earth crumbles in my palms and tumbles nonchalantly back to the ground it was torn from; an indiscriminate act changing this tiny piece of the world forever.
Making a change of any magnitude in this stagnant age feels like a victory.
The sun caresses my face and neck, filling the void usually present in my mind with a positive glow.
A river rushes by; cool and clean, a splash on the face leaving me feeling more alive than I can ever remember.
This is as real as it gets in this 'civilised' slice of the world.
This is as much relaxing and dreaming you are permitted.
The endless grey sludge that fills the city with dread and paralyzes the joy within man seems far away; seems unimportant.
Simple thoughts may sprout into something truly beautiful, they can grow with abundance; free from expectations and fear of failure.
Far from the judge, the jury and the executioner.
These moments spent away from the masses can be the most enjoyable and beautiful of your life.

This wilderness does not recognise me.
It does not know that I am white male from a rich country; it does not take bribes or recognise the power of friends.
It is uncaring and indiscriminate.
It is a travesty of man that you need to travel somewhere uninhabited to truly taste equality in all its sweet bitterness.
Here is a place in which romance is not dead, love does not get broken down and distributed by a tired postman through the doors of the lonely.
You can feel it vibrating through every atom, as alive now as it ever was, thriving on the raw energy permeating from every pore.
The tentacles of man have not yet spread its thick ink over this place suffocating it of its natural beauty.
There are no rules, no boundaries and no taboos
This is freedoms final stronghold, its last sanctuary from extinction and I will protect it with my anonymity.

A metropolis has its beauty too, a maddening aching attraction.
The visions of Bukowski.
I can see the allure to the alleyways and the back streets, far away from the prudish suburban tedious existence.
The thundering and crashing of life without meaning and without hope.
Thrashing from one place to another in agony, in ecstasy.
Leaving the corruption to them and existing in a bubble of emotion.
Decaying and eroding as the world rots away.
I see joy in the absurdity of the beats in the 40s roaring through the night finding their own significance in the outcast, in the insane, the outlandish and the brave.
In the mad excesses and distorted realities of hedonistic fiery nights.
To accept we are lost, that we are damned and find some grace in this condemnation.
And find liberty in the cracks and crevices of a despotic machine


My own path is far from set; my adventures barely begun.
I will see the desert sands and the majestic rainforests;
See different ways of living and understand the real world.
I will discover if love purity and hope still exist.
I will find my place in this world, carve out my niche and live freely.
I will sustain myself on undernourished beauty and hope of enjoyment.
Until I find the purity that I need to preserve me.