Story puzzle

29 Jun

I started wondering about how to tell a story, a story of experiences, in that I’ve been to places, and done things, but what story do I tell?

Of India – of the mix up with meeting up, the steam room that drowned the edges of my soul and stretched my pores to birth tears of toxins (!) That was not how I wrote that sentence the first, I lost it. But what stories to tell? – I want to tell you a story of when I was 19. Is that right? That was where I started. India: where everything is only just hanging together by magic and accident, near misses that hold the people in place amongst the chaos, the chaos that is in fact the order.

On the road again: The drivers of all and any vehicles that use their horns like a whore uses lube; excessively and indiscriminately. Like an academic uses large words; consistently and inappropriately. Like an —- I know I have stories, of hitchhiking in Argentina, sleeping on the floor in monasteries in Korea, swimming in the south china sea while a lightning storm rumbles my core.

Can I tell you a story?

I used to knit scarves, knit scarves on buses because I was a rebel and only old ladies knitted but I was busy not conforming, so busy not conforming that the things I did were dictated by the need to do and not the doing itself. I don’t know why I wanted to learn Spanish, I don’t know why I held to him for two years, I don’t know why I chose India (because I had first chosen Philipines and like a spoilt child I can pick it out like candy and go where my heart desires).

He told me its self-actualizing, that it is selfless and selfish. I didn’t know then but I know now.


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