Dear friend,
As I sit
here in class after taking a final waiting for others to finish so my generally
light footsteps won’t “disturb” them, I’m thinking about impulses, and how I really
want to act on one and leave. It is not
for lack of patience either; I just think it’s interesting.
I
sometimes fantasize of a life of impulse, to be a creature of desire without
setback from fear. Not without morals,
but an inept conscious that did not need the futures permission to make
decisions for today.
I
imagine he would drop out of school for a while, maybe travel the country by
foot or bicycle. Go back to his roots
and become nomadic, but on a search for beauty and peace rather than
resources.
He
wouldn’t censor himself, pouring out his heart like sour milk. He would date crushes without thinking long
term, be submissive to the gravitational force of yearning lips. He would embrace the sweetness of intimacy, a
special petal on the rose of love.
Then
again he might never leave his own head; he has been meticulously crafting a
sanctuary over the years that has the capacity for all his needs. He dusted it daily and if the look got stale
he’d rearrange the furniture. I think
he would build too deep in to get out, too many floors descended without an elevator. But that’s just it; he has no elevator
because he lacks desire for one. But
then again, he must build a sturdy fortress because no matter how far you are
on the external/internal world spectrum all it takes is a snap of the fingers
to cross over. A snap like a nuclear
bomb collapse everything you once knew in less than a second. A nuclear bomb, that would be my life on
impulse.
Sincerely,
Tales
