Last Run In Split
I’m just back from my last run in Split and I’m sad. Really sad. I could weep but I’m not that sad. I don’t like emotions. That’s why I enjoyed the booze and the Nytol and the weed to a lesser extent. Who wants to be emotional? The emotions find a way out in destructive ways. I guess it’s how I ended up delirious in Barcelona Airport that time. Bottling it all up is a toxic byproduct of a repressive society, yet I still do it cos LOL.
The show goes on. This time tomorrow I’ll be back in London as if none of this happened. It’s been a joy and to celebrate, I present to you the national anthem of the vagrant.
This lifestyle to some is madness, but the idea of living in the first place I find is madness to me. How can you know where’s right for you if you haven’t explored the world a little?
I could live responsibly and move to Belfast but living responsibly is death, especially at this time with Brexit happening. I’m viewing it all as an opportunity. I will go where the work is until the work stops. I will only settle down once I find THE place.
This brings us on to the second anthem of the vagrant.
This is what I live out of at the moment.
I’m all packed and ready to go and my flight isn’t for another 6 hours. My phone battery is down to 87% and this is making me anxious. I don’t recognize myself anymore and that’s a good thing as the old me thrived off chaos.
I’ve decided to just stay up tonight and try to get back into a normal sleep cycle from tomorrow. I’m powering through all of this with a lot of coffee so my stomach has the shitty grumbles. This is a good thing. It’s better to have them now than just after takeoff when I can’t use the bathroom and my greatest fear is flooding the aisle with brown gravy whilst the oxygen masks drop from the ceiling to help passengers escape my deadly arse sarin.
This lifestyle is controlled vagrancy. I’m always a month ahead with my bookings.
I’m only gonna be in trouble if I return to drinking. I’ve already lived that shitshow trainwreck and whilst it might be fun to people looking outside, it’s not good for me or the people close to me.
The funny thing is that in the last 6 months I’ve almost conquered my fear of flying. I just don’t think about it that much anymore. I get on the plane and focus on my breathing. If turbulence starts I think “COME ON MORE SHITTY TURBULENCE PLEASE”. Part of my fear of flying was about feeding the alcoholism. Getting fucked up at before, during and after the flight.
Now I just focus on how good I’ll feel when I’ve got to the other side OK. No dry mouth.
I’ll see you on the other side cuntos.