Tuesday 1 May 2007

Wayward

[please listen to ‘Natural blues’ by Moby when you read]

Maybe it is destiny. Something far more complicated than home or plans. That’s what you’ve got when you are on your sole track, differences highlighted. No roads, no maps. You let go relying on some intuitive feeling about where to turn to. In a way it means a reconciliation with nature, that old good nature. Devoid of determinism or any kind of outer forces. Just a simple match: your own sense of direction and the wind lanes. But how?

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