Time is dwindling, it always seems to do that when I'm anticipating and procrastinating simultaneously. No sort of structured plan ever seems to encompass all the details the night before a departure. It always ends this way, a frantic effort to tie up loose ends, see away friends, and settle any debts you may have had. By the time you think you have it all sorted out, you're just in time to realize you haven't anything sorted at all. In a desperate attempt to rehears everything you might need in any situation that may arise in the the next four months living out of your backpack, the zipper becomes ajar while clothes, necessities, and comfort items quickly bloat the bag. A selfish thought justifies the need for each individual item while the trade off is quite simple. In the end it always boils down to luxury vs necessity, do I need it or is it simply the satisfaction received from having it? Taking it means you carry the weight of it on your shoulders, leaving it means you might not sleep as well without it. Decisions, decisions, something I've never been so certain about.
Anxiety, fear, freedom; a malicious cocktail for the ones drugged by adventure. Ten hours from now I'll be boarding a plane..again..the only real familiarity in my life in the past two years. Why? Because my feet are itchy and my soul needs the rush like an addict needs a hit from that sweet hateful needle. A one way ticket to a place that's I've only ever read about. For all I know I could be in wonderland drinking tea with Alice by this time tomorrow but what I'm sure about is that I won't be here. The thought of that alone makes my stomach turn to knots, a feeling I used to hate, something we usually do our best to avoid, a feeling I've come to crave. Armed with Ignorance and fueled by naivety, my destination is Christmas Island. I don't know any one of the 1400 people who call it home. I have no reservation for accommodation, I hadn't the intent to pay to sleep anyway. My plan is simple, to survive.
I think we have all dreamed about building that incredible tree house on that remote island and that's exactly what I intended to do. A carpenter by trade, an adventurer at heart, the two create an avenue of limitless possibility in the wilderness. I know how to build and I know how to survive, the rest will fall into place, it always does. Finding the location may prove to be the most challenging part. I need to be far enough away from civilization that I won't be discovered. Being caught building a tree fort in a national park is somewhat frowned upon in this country. It will need to be high to escape the ground dwelling creatures lurking the depths at night. It will need to be on or close to my own private beach which will showcase the events of spear fishing for food. It will need to be adjacent to a fresh water river as we all require the blood of the earth to hydrate our needy bodies.
The bags are packed, the friends are contempt, and the debts are paid. Satisfaction reassures the spirit as I think I have remembered everything but naturally I'll remember what I've forgotten while accelerating down the tarmac tomorrow morning. All that's left for me now is to rest my head upon the pillow and do my prolonged blink until that dreaded alarm clock robs me from sleep once again. Tomorrow morning will be different though. When that alarm whines, it wont be marking the end of a great dream, it will be stamping the beginning of a new one.