Travel in Times of Trouble

The sun has been bizarre these days. Was it due to the serial portion of huge stress I have undergone recently or it was just the air pressure, or because of nature of the season I shall not know, but the sun has been bizarre these days.

Fragments of pavement is what I remember from my latest walks around the neighborhood. Fragments of pavement that speed up under my feet likewise the highway band slips into the wheels of the automobiles just to disappear somewhere behind them in lost away swirls. Right in such odd movement, I remember these pieces of sidewalk lately. Strange pieces, speeding up and upper under my feet. Odd, a little bit insane I would even think.

Yet, there have been their silver faces more peculiar of all. Just too harsh reflections of the sunlight right into my eyes. Have I ever seen concrete to shine so bright?! Were they touched by recent rain?! Washed?! Were they washed away?! I try to penetrate deeper but cannot see under their shields. My sight only slides along the surface with fired ice-skates. More I stare at them greater the speed of my pupils dilating. Mirrors of pavement that attract everything in their black holes, dazing me blind.

That same light, mirrored on the pavement surfaces before my eyes, reminds me of Spain; its sun so bright that it comes to taste cold and crystal. Odd, but if you breathe it, you can feel the serene freshness. There is a lovely song that stirs out of my archived sentiments, catalyzed by the bizarre picture and that I am going to share with you now.

CLASS OF ’03

track >> PLAY
band >> the doors
lyrics >> spanish caravan

Hum… I have not thought to second The Doors in my classes so quickly but it is the nature of things to come along all naturally. Moreover, as I am being on a trip these days, well not to Iberia but to some other magic coastal lands in Montenegro and Croatia, and sea is my beloved companion, I think this song is the one to reflect the whole atmosphere. Because it is all and all a feeling, the human saving instinct to sink into the irrational when everything else becomes so intense to be possible to bear on a practical basis. Movement is the power to dilute suspense. In times of trouble, the internal call is, travel.