Looks like my mind takes after my body or the other way around - always restless, on the go, ready for wondering and wandering. As soon as I try to stay put I start wasting my time, as if I was afraid to look at things the way they are and live life the way it comes. The more I read and the more I look around, the more I feel the world is absurd, all this rush for money and things is absurd, our obsession with physical appearance (a bag to hold together the muscles, bones and organs), our habits to spend the days sitting inside a windowless office and then go working out in a windowless gym, not for pleasure, but to please our conscience.
Maybe that's why I like to travel so much, it gives me an unbelievable sense of freedom, and lightness, no mandatory dress code, no imposed schedules. Property means burden, bu we also feel the need of this damn security. I realized that leaving Romania with its petty deep rooted never-to-be-solved social and economic problematic enlarged my horizons, only to make me realize we are caught in circus like system: if you play the game right you get your reward. No matter where you live.
Sometimes I think I'd be happier in a farm, growing my own fruits and veggies (taking after Michelle Obama digging around the White House:) I acquire my long sought peace of mind when I walk, I swim and I dance, all my dark thoughts and my pains are alleviated. I'd love to live the same way like these new nomads but I'm hardly succeeding to live decently - according to my own standards - by staying put in Montréal. I hope to make it to Santiago de Compostela at least, while my legs can still carry me. Obviously from some place in Europe. A Spanish friend told me he met a Dutch lady who came all the way from there. In Romania I would have the hardest time making it to the border, afterwards it's probably easier.
A lot of I's in this post, it means I have to do something about all my moaning.