Pilot

We all live with restrictions. Restrictions of age; whether it be too young or too old. Restrictions placed upon us from other people; parents, bosses, children, spouses, peers. Restrictions based on our location, money, background, resources, contacts. Others may be physical, psychological or emotional barriers. Yet the sad fact that remains, the bitter truth which lays a common secret to all, is that the only truly free man is the dead man.

Throughout our lives though, do we try to overcome these barriers and break free from these restrictions or do we seek to make them foundations of our future to ensure stability and security? As if humans gain some form of masochistic pleasure from bitching constantly about what they can’t do, instead of actually getting out there and doing it. Yet I will not claim to be one of those positive encouraging thinkers that will urge everyone to drop everything and go live their dream. Reality unfortunately kicks in every single time – and it can kick pretty well and pretty damn hard.

I have been thinking of the idea of starting a blog for quite some time now; years perhaps. Yet I wish that my body was as active as my brain. There was always a restriction, a limitation, an excuse: too tired from work, too busy with other stuff, too emotionally and hormonally unstable, too sick. However the most important of all, was the fact that I am lazy as fuck. It is pretty discouraging being in possess of a mind that is constantly on work but having a body that refuses to catch up with it. And how can it really? Perhaps this is why it’s not even making the effort – because it knows the brain will always beat it. And the brain has a mind of its own; it will not stop and take a nap like the hare did, so that the tortoise can catch up.

Having run out of excuses though and since we are (fortunately) approaching the end of the world as we know it (more of this another time), I decided that it was time to put my ass and fingers into work. As filthy as that sounds, my intentions on this occasion are completely innocent. I feel that in order to start something new, in order to be novel and creative, in order to push barriers aside and start from scratch, is to have the innocence of a child.

There was a boy once that used to believe in monsters and mythical worlds. Gods and aliens. Demons and angels. Vampires and psychics. Witches and yetis. Not Santa though for some reason. That boy grew up thinking “there are more worlds than the one you can hold in your hands”.  As the young boy began to grow older, he gradually came to the harsh realisation that this may not be the case. He lost faith in weird creatures and mythological worlds. He lost faith in gods and demons. And amongst all that, he lost faith in humans too. He lost his faith in love, in compassion, in trust. But the worse of all was perhaps the fact that he lost faith in his own self.

As I embark in this journey (with or without the rest of you fuckers), I cannot know nor do want to try to predict the outcome. Besides, this is just words on a blank paper. Tabula rasa. I am not climbing Mt fucking Everest. I do know however what I would like to get out of it. And of the things that should go on the top of the list, is that I want to re-gain that faith. I want to believe.