Ever since relocating in Auckland to complete my university education, life has become more or less pseudo-vagabond. The whole year can be chopped into numerous portions, with me traveling tirelessly between Taiwan and New Zealand, neither of the two places in which I spend for a considerable period. A change of pace is essential but a change of ‘accelerated’ pace might appear overwhelming. Thankfully I do not have any glaring symptoms of disorientation.
It is overtly pretentious for some to divine their ceaseless traveling as a cause leading to a subliminal consequence of ‘calling every place home,’ which is equivalent to ‘calling nowhere home.’ And a prolix of how they find their vagabond lives dreadfully lonely and inconceivable for human beings is expected to follow thus. As the intensity of my traveling increases, the first thing I perceived was how everyone seemed sulkily lonely or mad. Yes the whole world seems to be pervaded with extreme madness. I feel peculiar and dull of being one of the rare ordinary ones.
When I was still in my elementary years I once went on a camping trip with a horde of giggly brownies. I must be so obedient by then, for a trifle cold was nagging my throat. A mother of one of the brownies’ who were accompanying her daughter on the trip and was promptly appointed by my mother to watch over whether I partake my daily intake of medicine. I dreaded the bitter aftertaste of my pills so I flushed them down the toilet. My supervisor found out eventually and told my mom. Nothing happened in the end, since when I returned I was utterly recovered so pills were in no necessity then. How the world has changed since these days the mothers are the ones who drop the pills vehemently into the toilet and the children will still doggedly dredge them up and surreptitiously savor the ecstasy.
I picture a maddening world like a tumbling roll. Everything toils over in such revs that nobody cares to stop and mulls over his footprints or the next steps. People rally with each other for unnameable cause, I rally with nature for can never rally with anybody.
It is overtly pretentious for some to divine their ceaseless traveling as a cause leading to a subliminal consequence of ‘calling every place home,’ which is equivalent to ‘calling nowhere home.’ And a prolix of how they find their vagabond lives dreadfully lonely and inconceivable for human beings is expected to follow thus. As the intensity of my traveling increases, the first thing I perceived was how everyone seemed sulkily lonely or mad. Yes the whole world seems to be pervaded with extreme madness. I feel peculiar and dull of being one of the rare ordinary ones.
When I was still in my elementary years I once went on a camping trip with a horde of giggly brownies. I must be so obedient by then, for a trifle cold was nagging my throat. A mother of one of the brownies’ who were accompanying her daughter on the trip and was promptly appointed by my mother to watch over whether I partake my daily intake of medicine. I dreaded the bitter aftertaste of my pills so I flushed them down the toilet. My supervisor found out eventually and told my mom. Nothing happened in the end, since when I returned I was utterly recovered so pills were in no necessity then. How the world has changed since these days the mothers are the ones who drop the pills vehemently into the toilet and the children will still doggedly dredge them up and surreptitiously savor the ecstasy.
I picture a maddening world like a tumbling roll. Everything toils over in such revs that nobody cares to stop and mulls over his footprints or the next steps. People rally with each other for unnameable cause, I rally with nature for can never rally with anybody.
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