June 08, 2008

So. I suck.

I’d be hard pressed to give a reasonable explanation for this long silence. I like blogging. Only thing is, I’ve once again become disengaged, as it’s happened to me regularly over these past few months.

I suppose I should own the fact that I am becoming blasee. The wonders of the world no longer phase me. I turn my mind to other things – to my inner universe and the stories I want to write, the imaginary people screaming to be born of my mind.

Yet, my pen is sterile and it is a blissful torture to be so inhabited by unborn phantoms.

Perhaps it would be kind of me to describe the setting in which this rant is born. It is on a boat, a small ferry that reeks of lake water and market smells, a place so full of the chatter of old Indonesian ladies, it is a wonder I can write at all. There are six bullays on this ship: yours truly, Spade, Vee, a man with too much belly and very bad skin, another with stunning blue eyes, and a girl who has backpacker stamped on her forehead.

The ship leaves, to the sound, very alien, for this setting, of La Lambada. It takes me a moment to recognize it. Destination: Samosir, on Lake Toba, North Sumatera. It is my second tourist outing in Indonesia, an they are only a week apart.

I was last weekend in Sabang, on the island of Palau Weh, off the coast of Aceh. A much needed breath of fresh air, with highlights including roast beef and snorkeling. I didn’t find Nemo, but maybe I wasn’t looking hard enough. I suppose getting sunstroke might also be a partial explanation as to why my efforts were hampered.

Also, hammocks rock. If I ever stop being a gypsy, I want one in my home. Another highlight: waiting for the night to crash on me as I belt out Yeats, Edith Piaf and Streisand to myself.

I guess I’m not so unphazed, after all. Just lazy. Aaaargh. Must be productive. Must must must.

Oh, a hammock.


The Beaver
My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !


Salt Water said...

Wow! I doubt Yeats and his Innessfree will ever be, after the world you've seen. You will probably carry the Augustin pain forever "Our hearts are restless until we rest in Thee Oh Lord."

I found and read your referenced Candide. Wow. I like the antithetical, but that was a bit rough. It was perfect for me though. I must tend my garden. Yet mine is small. Your garden is the world. You may suffocate in a garden my size.

Try keeping in mind, many of us actually love you out here. I wish I could be like you: Brave, Fearless, Open to the new, Optimistic about people, Amazing...

This was a nice post with good balance between personal and eventful.

Best Wishes Beav

Qalamana said...

Hey, no seas tan dura contigo misma!!!

Beaver said...

Jim, thank you for your kind words, seriously. And I'm glad that you enjoyed the post and Voltaire. He is an interesting philosopher (but I can't seem to remember now where I referenced him. I am a dork.)

Qalamana, Querida, no te preoccupes. Todo esta bien, te promeso. Te llamo, muy pronto, cercito cercito.