Where are you, travel bug?
Where would you go if you had a chance? What will you do first once you reach there? Would you be gone for good? Will you keep in touch with those you left behind? Will you leave them behind for your sake? What if they don’t want to tag along? Why do you feel this way about a place that doesn’t even know you exist? Are you a tourist or a traveler? Will you click more photographs than you can remember? What about experiencing things first hand instead of through the lens? How long before you decide to move on to some other spot? How long before you decide to move back? Where do you see yourself 50 years from now? On a hammock on a beach unperturbed by human scent? In a city bustling with dreams of a better tomorrow? Or in the hills away from those you thought completed you? Dead and forgotten? Forget 50 years, what’s your next destination? How long will the trip last? Would you be able to do all the things you resolved to do? What if this place of yours is merely an attraction from a distance? An imaginary place fuelled by agencies who profit? Anyway, what are you escaping? Aren’t you too young to be running from yourself? Moreover, what can you escape for barely 2–3 weeks? How is your passport? Is it overstamped or under? Are you a global citizen yet? Who do you belong to other than your mother? Do you see yourself sane when you’re unable to communicate with foreigners in a country where you are the foreigner? Will you manage somehow? How many countries do you wish to visit before you close your eyes forever? When is a good time to discuss the very purpose of our existence? Aren’t we supposed to travel far and wide and up and above and down and across the world? Isn’t this the only life we’ve got? Or is my math too weak to understand? Isn’t it obvious that we’ve getting pocketed as people of specific places by powers-to-be? What do you think will happen if everybody desired to see everything in the world? Border, what’s that? Other than an imaginary line to remind us how stupid we are? Can’t we see that we tend to ruin when we settle? Or is that too ideal for a reasonable thought? After all, didn’t our hunger-gatherer ancestors finally settled? Why would they do that if traveling was very good? Different times, perhaps? What worked for them shouldn’t necessarily work for us, should it? Lastly, we must travel before we lose ourselves completely.
