There’s no wind for once. Since I left the wind has been blowing straight into me. When it rains I can only look down, watching my feet take each step, the hypnotic synchronisation taking away from the bleakness of my surroundings. Grey rocks litter the land to one side and trees to the other. Even the trees look sad, the wind in the leaves making them appear as though they are trying to flee, some falling off and escaping. With brief glances ahead I can see that the path seems to never end. Not even twisting, just straight into the distance.
My feet are sore, my shoes are worn. The journey has got the better of them. Running my hand through my hair trying to brush off the wetness I realise how long and thick it has become. I’d give anything to wash, to shave. I’ve walked for weeks, not seeing a single person since I left. Not that I want to see anyone, I am content in my self imposed solitude. People just get in the way, they ask questions, selfish questions that serve no purpose than to fulfill their own curiosity. Or even to feed their own conceit.
What is the purpose of this journey? I don’t know myself. I don’t know where the path that I walk ends. The loneliness that others fear is all that I desire. My whole world is tinted with grey. Adding light to it only confuses me, bright colours that I want to reach out and grab but can’t, what others desire is what I fear. My battered feet now tinged with red, but red isn’t bright is it? Looking up again I can see a house in the distance. A bright light shining out from it. A beacon to others, a sign of hope and respite, yet it’s a warning to me.
I veer off the path, into the trees. I don’t want to see people. At least the trees provide some relief from the rain. It’s dark but not wet. Heading further in the trees become thicker, the bushes bigger. I’ve lost my way, yet I haven’t. I’ve always been lost, so this is no different. As long as I avoid the light, avoid the people I don’t care. The trees begin to thin out again, an opening becoming visible in the short distance. I can see the blue of the sky. Something about it is alluring. My body wants to go towards it but my mind is telling me to turn back.
For once I fight it, I continue out to the opening and the blue sky. The bright orange sun is setting, I want to run and grab it, put it back high in the sky. A euphoria that I’ve never felt before overtaking me. The pains in my feet have gone, there’s a new energy in my movements. I keep walking in the direction of the red sky, red the colour I never thought was bright, towards the now disappearing orange ball. Eventually it disappears. My euphoria has gone, replaced with the usual feeling of being lost and lonely. Now those feelings don’t feel so comfortable, they don’t feel so desirable.
I set out on a journey south. One that I thought would never end, one that I didn’t want to end. I walked in a direction I knew there would be wind and rain, where the landscape would be bleak and grey. Now though I am sitting here waiting for the sun to rise in the morning. I so badly want to see those bright colours again. The blue sky, the bright sun. So I’ll sit here in the darkness of the night, waiting. At least now I know there is nothing left to fear.