Paper Cigarette

2015/04/09 - Thursday (Areia, Portugal)

2015/04/09 – Thursday (Areia, Portugal)

...gone astray...decided to have breakfast at one of my favourite's bistro, called Tasca Tosca... it has been a while since the last time...yet the waiter remembers what I always order for breakfast... it's one of those make you feel good gestures, is it not?...or maybe it's also a sign that I need to get a life and maybe go elsewhere...where I am not known...but for today, I will indulge myself into thinking I'm a somebody... my health is not the best, but it's getting better though I'm concerned with my shortness of breath...

...responsibility...history repeats itself...why am I here on another sabbatical year, and at my age too...basically, alone looking for something which I know is missing in my life...but not even sure what it is...my best guess or description is an emptiness... I know the loneliness is in my head as there are always people around me... I am not a hermit in any way... the events of the last few days in connection with being sick...made me realize I'm responsible for this body... and I need this vehicle to complete a mission... there is something in me that compels and drives me to follow this obsessive dream/ quest...a dream that I'll one day quench my emptiness... do dreams come true?...when will I know if I have reached my goal/dream...perhaps on my death bed?...

...1980... at the age of 20, I shipped my motorcycle to Lisbon from Montreal... the goal was to take a sabbatical year and travel... at the time, I told my friends and colleagues that I was travelling because I felt that working 50 weeks a year to get 2 weeks off as a vacation time was unfair and unbalanced for a quality life... I thought my explanation was pretty avant garde with a socialist undertone... but in reality, I felt an intense emptiness that I needed to get away from and to a certain extent...I was getting away from me and where I was in my life...

... anxiety highpoint... was retrieving the motorcycle from the port custom offices in Lisbon... in addition, my motorcycle had arrived and was stored for 2 months before I was informed/notified...bureaucratic lunacy of self-importance was on display with endless tidbits of forms to be filled out... and of course the best erection feeling these bureaucrats ever felt, is when they hold a stamp and ink pad in their hands... and pound my insignificant forms with blotted ink... I spent three surreal days enabling these miniscule office workers with olive oil stains on their henpecked wife bought shirts as they jerked me around until I got my motorcycle...of course, their unhurried incompetence cost me storage fees too...what a bizarre place...no wonder it is walled up... must be to keep the lunatics at bay from society...

... conveyance... with the Lisbon customs clearing ordeal behind me... eventually/finally, I move to travel around... with my balls snuggled on the motorcycle...drove to and spent a few months in the south of France...made tons of new friends... love interests flourished and my sleeping shift was moved to the daytime...booze and drugs became a ritualistic diet...but here too I realized I was just numbing my emptiness...the people I met were really nice and some became lifelong friends...but I needed to find something that could amend my internal silent disruptions...

... retrogress... after spending some time in the UK and then back toFrance... I decided it was now time to return to Portugal... and seek calmness, as my mind was tired...maybe I could start over...take a different route to finding happiness...by this time I had figured out my emptiness was sadness... I also thought I was probably a manic depressive as I went from a high to a low within hours... starting in France I drove along the Mediterranean coast on my way back to Portugal...it was already night time when I started to have engine problems...everything electrical on the motorcycle was off... and soon after the engine went off too... I ended up pushing the motorcycle up and down the hill side coastal road...after a few hours the bike was heavy and I was exhausted but I knew the Spanish boarder was just a few kilometers away...

... au revoir hope... when I was pushing the motorcycle... and it came time to go downhill, I hopped on the bike and at times the engine ran for a few seconds if I popped the clutch...going uphill was now taking its' toll and it was close to midnight...at one point I look down towards the sea and I see what appears to be a building way down the hill and by the sea...perhaps a hotel?... I decide I had enough with pushing and would check into the hotel... as I coast down the hill towards the hotel... it's beginning to appear it is not a hotel, but more like a hospital...I later found out it was an institution for the mentally handicapped... as I enter the lobby the nurse Ratchet clone greets me... I explain my predicament and ask if I can sleep in the lobby... she speaks with her supervisor and returns with a glass of water and informs me I cannot stay as my presence would disrupt the serenity of the patients...

... one of them...on my way out I meet Henri... he was excited to see me, he was like a 10-year-old at Christmas time...except he was well into his fifties or more... it was a long route upwards to the main road... I figured if I push the motorcycle just a little bit uphill, then I return down and pop the clutch...Henri could not be happier as he helped me push the bike up...and ran down after me...I did this a few times but the bike would not run long enough for me to escape this serene coastal hell... with great persistence, I had to explain to Henri not to follow me uphill and that he had to stay within his compound...

... king of the hill... I was a huge ball of sweat by the time I reached the main road... I just kept pushing until about 2 AM when I reached the last village on the French border side...not sure how, but I ended up by the sea... once by the beach...there was a park with a couple of benches...at this point and time this seemed like a five-star hotel...as it had the sound of waves as music...besides the waves were the only thing I wanted to hear... I took up a bench as my bed, no reservations required...I fell asleep to the thoughts of Henri, the mental institution and Lisbon port bureaucrats and my misguided quest...some people count sheep to fall asleep...I on the other hand associate people with common features in order to fall asleep... the lunacy of my life was the last thought before falling under...

...eclipse...I woke up with some guy standing over me...he did not look like a homeless man in any way... in fact he was dressed in blue jeans and a black three button t-shirt...he was balding but with long hair and a beard... he kind of reminded me of a messiah type of hippie...but there was an air of distraught... he spoke in a broken Spanish... even though I was pretty sure I was still in France... he repeatedly asked me in Spanish where were we...it was as if he was an alien who lost his bearing...eventually...I managed to understand... he was a Spanish sailor who got lost at sea overnight or so I think... and now found himself in a strange land... to me he seemed more like a lost soul than a sailor...

...mundane... I did not care to get too involved with the issues of this lost sailor... I had problems of my own to resolve with my motorcycle mechanics...and I was still physically drained from pushing the bike all night... looking at him I noticed he was barefoot too...just my luck, now for sure he would not be any help in pushing the bike with me, pretty much a tits on a bull...I had a pair of black sneakers I bought on an impulse at a country fair back in France...actually I did not like the sneakers and they were protruding from my motorcycle satchel... I handed the shoes and they were such a contrast on his white feet...his skin seems too paper white for a sailor... I left him at the first bistro which we found open... explained his situation to the bistro owner and he stayed waiting for the police...also found out where there was a bike shop where I could repair the motorcycle... picked up my motorcycle and moved on...