I live between two worlds, but inhabit neither. One foot in the ox cart, one foot in the sky. In the morning I meditate quietly, meekly eat my breakfast listening to the birds, read philosophy, take quiet little walks in the hills, help old ladies carry their shopping. By night I get stoned, drunk, go to swingers bars in the city, am replaced by sexual obscenity and a savage desire to leave myself behind and do nothing besides copulate all night until I forget the where and who I am.
Both sides of this conflict - mastering craving and coming out of suffering, whilst following my instincts and living a “savage” life - involve letting go of myself. But, either way, I never can. So I exist on the frontier, alone with myself, full of idle thoughts and worries and desires. I'm stranger in a strange land. I only feel at home in the wild places - in a naked woman’s arms, looking up at her eyes; or sleeping in the hills, looking up at the stars.
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AuthorEnglish teacher from the UK. Living in Granada. Currently working in Doha. Archives
February 2022
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