Time is rapidly disappearing between now and when I hop the plane to Ireland
And all I can think is...
Research?
What research have I done?
Nothing--not really.
Not because I'm not excited
But because I love the spur
When it's thought out
Planned
Too much
I feel a vice
On my insides
And I lose
The thrill of prancing in the moment to the bleh, schedule, details of it all.
That is the wanderlust talking...
But if there is no plan, mindless, aimless wandering
Can, could WILL occur AND important places, people, important moments
May not happen
I'll let them
Slip by
Through the fingers
Why?
Because I'm afraid of
Possible contriction?
So I restrict my
Research and planning?
My thoughts of the future?
How does that make sense?
Momentary it could be too
The constriction
And the outcome, sheesh
The experience
Could be a greater
reward
Life changing perhaps
A deeper love and appreciation
May occur
If I just...
PLAN A LITTLE!
Maybe plan to wander?
Hmm, is that structure talking?
What I know is this:
I want to see
Goats
Sheep
On the coast
of Ireland
waves crashing
A heavy mist
soaking my bone
A dirt road
to prance around
A bar
to belly up to
And maybe a boat
to float
Around
The Cliffs of Dover
A friend to travel with
A boyfriend to share it all
And I'll be
Happy and awed
To the core of me
Cause I'm traveling this globe
As the fool you know
trekking to the UK
In less than 63 days!
No comments:
Post a Comment