"Leyendo en el Hospital" Gustavo Santaolalla
Tonight I miss my old life. This movie brought me to tears because it so captured the feeling of the road and of travel. Itcreated that pain in my stomach that signifies a visceral need to seek adventure, or was it, that whole time to shed this life. To shake things off and rediscover parts of you that remain latent in this normal life. Parts that this normal life just don't require. Like feeling secure in the company of strangers, or knowing that within a 3000 mile radius, nobody knew me or communicating needs with hand signals and gratefulness with a real smile. Of course things have moved on and my life now resembles what those people on the road--perhaps myself too at an earlier age--believe to be an unlived life. What was i looking for all those years? Have I found it? if I am still writing this, perhaps not. Perhaps it's just one of these complicated biorhythmic cycles, predicated on a very ancient urge to explore your terrain. Living on the road is unsustaintable--those who do it end up dirty and always give off this impression that their lives back home in the UK or France or Germany presented something to them so overwhelming that the only way to cope was not to--and that living a life defined by strangers in strange places provided the safety and comfort they otherwise could not find. Where do we go now? Are the last adventures inside my head?