Nashville Airport, Tenessee, US
I put down my book in anger. I couldn’t focus. My head was full of thoughts, thougths that I didn’t asked for. I wanted just to close my eyes and rest. But I had only few dollars in my pocket, I was waiting for a flight that would take me to the city where I had to spend the night. Not knowing where. My stomach was on water. I wanted to smoke, but there was not a single smoking corner at the airport. I would give up and sleep if I could, but I couldn’t. My mind was awake. Thinking of all the mistakes I have done, and all the missteps that I still have to pay for.
There is something about these long times at the airport. And all these people who try to fill the time at least a little meaningfully before they get finally home. But I wasn’t going home, I was going for another trip. I said to my friend a couple of hours ago that we will meet on a different continent, in a different country. We had plans. I had plans. Different plans. Everyone had plans. I wanted so much just to go, and get lost in the city. Stay on the road without worrying about anything. And if I didn’t have work to do, I would use my credit at the airlines, and just ask them to get me anywhere. Just anywhere. I would jump on a train as the two hobbos I met earlier this weak. I would probably remember to my last day what he said, and how it felt—`Not going anywhere if I have no whiskey’. I bought one for them, they gave me money. They didn’t have an ID, and the law was strict. I imagined for a while where could they be. In this hot southern air, riding a freight train with few little drops of cheep whiskey left. I guess they were searching for the meaning of life. As was I. In between this high-class high priviledged life of a scientist. And, at the same time student with only a few bucks in his pocket aching for adventure. Meeting crazy people who would say: `Come with us! Only now you can live your life to the fullest.’
Torn in between my dreams. Stability, or freedom. Chaos, and bravery. I was never brave, but I knew that I can sleep in a forest outside, under a tree. Still I was afraid of discomfort. Once you learn how easy can everything be, if there are people around, you start to dislike discomfort. Loneliness and discomfort go hand in hand. And I really do love loneliness, don’t I?
And I think I need this. I need to realise how is it to live without money, without knowing that you will have a roof over your head. I think I called this upon myself. It is wierd, but I did. The questions remain the same. Do I want to run and seek an adventure, or the freedom to be payed for doing what I like? Is it all worth the fight?