Years I have waited to start my journey and today’s the day that it will finally begin.1969 kombi van and my hair blowing in the wind. I’m finally living the dream I have wanted to live for my entire life. Leaving my hometown for the first time gave me a sense of freedom and that I was finally out on my own. The sound of the old motor ticking away along a long straight of the highway. My destination is unknown to me, wherever I end up at sunset is where I’ll stay till dawn. The sun is shining so bright, beaming down on me; it feels like it is drawing me up into freedom of the bright blue sky. From a dry hot place, I’m starting to see the beautiful horizon. It calls me on.
I veer off the highway and onto a little skinny road, I have a feeling it will lead me to the sparkling blue water of the Pacific Ocean. The dirt track turns to a sandy, windy road and I feel like I’m getting closer and closer. I hit the sand, opened my vintage door, and flew out of the car, and I was free, free at last. The sand felt so smooth and cold and the wind was blowing my hair like crazy. The horizon was straight and in the distance, I saw a dark figure lurking in the neck of the horizon. From the distance it was small but as my imagination took over I could see a large metal vessel riding the waves from coast to coast of the great ocean. The salt air lashes my cheeks and burns my eyes. Off to my left, the low-lying clouds pelt the eastern coast. The cloudy skies give of a sense of peace about this abandoned and condemned place. I look to my right and in the distance, I spot an old shack. The sun is starting to set and I wonder if the shack is available to sleep the night till dawn cracks. I jump in my Volkswagen and drive towards it, it seems alone and deserted. I slowly open the door and peek around it. The shack was almost empty, it had a table and a chair in the middle of the room, and it smelled musty and old.
So I stayed there the night and as soon as the dawn light descended through the shades. I got up and hit the road again. In my travels I drove through an old town with a population of 100 people, it reminded me of home town and I started to get teary eyes over it. I stopped and had some lunch, hot chips, and a side of mullet deep fried to a delectable crisp and to top it off was a lemon squeezed over the top. As dusk started to set I knew I had to settle down somewhere and have a rest so I pulled over to the side of the road unpacked my billy and started a fire to make me some tea. Throughout the night I was constantly awoken for no reason. The frost started to set in leaving a cold damp mist resting on my sleeping bag. In the morning at the first break of dawn, I packed up my things and started to head down the road of mysterious wonders. Sometimes it's the journey that teaches you a lot about your destination. - Drake.
Have you ever become so engrossed in reaching a destination that you failed to enjoy the journey?
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MY MOTHER
The strongest person I have ever known is my mother. My earliest memory is waking up early with my parents, Dad leaving for work, and Mom dropping Adam off for school (he was in first grade at the time). When I was younger, I used to question a lot why I had to wake up so early to be like everyone else. As I've gotten older, I've come to realize that there were several reasons (that multiplied as I grew older), the primary one being that my mother was reluctant to leave me home alone when I was four years old. Second, Mom wanted me to become accustomed to it. My mom was an intelligent woman. I hated all three from an early age, yet she always found creative methods to make me tidy my room, wash my teeth, or take a bath. However, by the time I was eleven, I frequently found them to be enjoyable and eager to participate. But her intelligence was due to more than this. She was always able to offer sound counsel. When I was seven years old, I used to frequently cry when I got home from school because I was a little overweight, and my friends would mercilessly pick on me. With her arms wrapped around me, my mother would brush my long hair back from my face and wipe away my I told her what had happened, crying. Several times, my mother gave me sound counsel, as though she had been present when it occurred. When I was younger and would complain about my weight, my mother would comfort me by telling me that she had been in my shoes before. I didn't believe it when I was this small, since I didn't resemble her at all. I was small and stubby, with short, nearly black hair and green eyes, while she was tall and skinny, with long, mousy brown hair and blue eyes. (People used to believe that I was adopted because my dad doesn't resemble me at all.) When I was nine years old, the kids at school were still picking My mother brought out an old picture album that I had never seen before and looked at me.
By Shusmita Raniabout a month ago in Potent
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Comments (1)
Hey, just wanna let you know that this is more suitable to be posted in the Wander community 😊