2014/11/18 – Tuesday (Cascais, Portugal)
...woke up questioning myself about living in Europe (very expensive) ... and the Camino trek in the spring of next year and this whole notion of trying to write a book...I reduced my life to this one-year sabbatical span...then what? ... what will happen after, other than being almost penniless as I sold practically everything I had as possessions in order to come here... maybe I will go back to Montreal and re-start my construction company... maybe this is why I was not able to sell the tools before coming here...perhaps this was a blessing in disguise...even with all these doubts, I still feel strongly that? divinity brought me here for a reason...
... just because I have glimpses of how others are dealing with being on this planet... having a gift of intuition does not make me one of god's emissary per se... nor should any of this interfere with who I am, because it is naturally implanted in me to be empathic as far back as I can remember... but all this changed two years ago after the first Camino...but still, I'm just a man and not a saviour of some kind for the masses... as I cannot turn water into wine, either...
...a book?...I'm not a writer!...I still have no idea what to write about?... maybe... will this book be about a man breaking free of his own past and rediscovering himself?... knowing very well that giving up everything he had would surely close doors and he'd end up alone like never before... how farfetched and liberating can it be that things that were once important to him before were ultimately an illusion... it sounds like madness, does it not?... how sane is it when one claims he can turn water into wine, is it really insanity or is it faith...such a very thin line between the two...it's not always clear, if one is standing on the correct side of the line in the sand, and then again who is wise enough and dead on sure which side of the line is the right one?
...it's not always easy finding a new bistro conducive to inspiration where I can write... this bistro will remain nameless as it is the first and last time I will set foot in here, unless there is an emergency for a bathroom, at which point I'd go back on my resolution and gladly leave a dump... geographically speaking I am not sure if it's in Cascais or the neighboring Estoril town... but since there is mothball scent of opulence, the latter is most likely... does having too much money, disconnect one from reality?... does it explain, self-centred behavioural patterns?...from my experience, stupidity does not take into account wealth... other than make the act of a stupidity an expensive one... just a thought...
... strategic location and/or prime real estate... judging from the neighbourhood, there is an abundance of money as reflected off the condo complexes, villas and automobiles (and not buildings, houses and cars)... I always found mother nature has a knack for balancing things... and with this, quite a number of professional beggars around here... professional, because they have handmade cardboard signs advertising their misery in different languages... an international flavour to an up and coming industry... neat, no?... considering this country is in a recession and has more than its' fair share of poverty... the only viable income is from tourism and foreigners, so it seems to be the case here...
...the homeless, faceless guy pushing a bicycle loaded with garbage bags full of whatevers saddled to the back fender... and the intricately confusing wire/rope mess handcuffing his bicycle frame to a stolen grocery shopping cart which is also piled high with his worldly whatevers stored in crumpled designer brand bags too...and even in his mundane mind, he still needs more stuff, so much so that even his handle bars and front fender miraculously support more bags...and considering the summer like weather we have of late...yet, he still manages to wear several layers of coats that give the impression that his healthy looking bulky body is not anorexic...
... surely... after all he is insane with his hording about, no?... so... he smells bad, but is he insane?... he goes around in circles looking for more whatevers to load on to his bike... how much is enough?... people walk by him and quickly too, do you blame them?... as they too run from store to store filling in the void in their lives with whatevers which come in designers bags...we can never have enough whatevers, and they are addictive like the bi-weekly pay cheques dangling in front of us like carrots on a stick...
... what if there is a place in reality that is between the collectors of whatevers and the one that can turn water into wine...where the body and soul do not struggle but instead are at peace...and where is this place?...if only the eyes can look inwards, then we could see it immediately...
YOU ARE READING
Paper Cigarette
Random...... ...Paper Cigarette (slices of life)... ...for better or for worse, what happens on the Camino does not always stay on the Camino.... .. it's a journal style novel (fiction)....... it's about a man who inadvertently finds himself on the Santia...
