This moment of bliss

As I sit here with the lights dimmed, a candle burning out, smooth jazz playing softly through my bass-y speakers, I ponder how gratifying this moment of bliss is. Not since that all-too-perfect date, with Ms. You-know-who, have I come to enjoy this simple pleasure: a moment of indulgence which infrequently arrives.

I find, too, that my writing – not a simple post, or build log, or share – has ceased. Guilt of this cessation has fogged my mind; my creative resources were spent wading through it, instead of ignoring it. But in this moment of peace, right now, a clear light is shining through which renders objects visible; it’s like the warm morning sun shining over a tropical rainforest, revealing the hidden life obscured by shadows.

So, how shall I begin?

Firstly, addressing my upcoming voyage would most satisfy me. On the twentieth of this month, I start my tour across America. For those of you who do not yet know, I am backpacking across the country for a few months. I hope to find interesting places and people who’s personalities match the locale. But in addition to those reasons, I also feel there is a spiritual sense to the journey (which is impossible to describe; hopefully it shows through my photos, and when I recall the story for my friends). Of course, this trip has me (and those who concern themselves with me) nervous. On my first night alone in the world, I shall resort in an abandoned mid-town Chicago building. Now, I know there isn’t much good that can come of this, other than the excitement in my eyes as I recall the event to my peers. I’m terrified, don’t think I’m not, but I don’t think I’m going to be raped/murdered/assaulted/[insert act of terror here]. Of this entire trip, this is what scares me most. At the same time, however, an overwhelming feeling of love warms my soul. I’m not very used to this emotion.

Secondly, I’d like to tell my faithful readers that I’m going to miss you. Of course, I will hug and cry to my closest friends (who I consider my family at this point) but if I miss the opportunity, don’t hesitate to give me a call. Granted, I may be asleep/dueling with a hobo/on the brink of survival, but it would go appreciated.

Lastly, I feel like I’m starting to distance myself from my “home.” Lately, it’s as if I don’t have the right to call my current residence a home anymore. My parents, while they mean well, do not understand me. They don’t understand the appeal to such an extravagant journey; they don’t understand the appeal of my interests; most of all, though, they don’t understand that times are changing. My father constantly command I get a real job and leave this nonsense behind. His notions are so infuriating, my head may explode at any moment. I wish him the best, but I’m leaving him behind. As for my mother, she’s lost touch with reality. Constantly bickering and never happy, she perpetuates my depression. I’ve tried my best to make her happy, but my efforts have been futile. Between my dad’s oppressive beliefs and my mom’s horrible attitude, I can’t take residence here anymore. It’s been an O.K. eighteen years, but I’m moving on to brighter pastures.

I can’t wait until the day that another sense of bliss happens. While I’ve gotten a bit excited (and heated) over that last part, I’m back to cool and thinking of the future fondly.