A weary mind travels through time with enough baggage to ground an elephant. Stuffed with memories, bogged down with bags of broken dreams, jangling and singing along mournfully as the traveller moves on. As a spectator, one can only watch and see. As a fellow traveller, that unnoticed glance at your own baggage gives pause to your immediate reaction to judge – but never stops you completely.
Erratic behaviour and understandable tantrums are all part of the process of carrying this baggage. Writers write reams of resolutions; tried and trusted ways to resolve this excessive baggage. No one stops to ask if the traveller prefers the company of the jingle and maybe hums along to the sad songs. Culture picks holes in habitual homilies to keep going, keep carrying – pressing for conformity among travellers. It’s all for the greater good after all…conformity, that is. Box-less love and eternal wasted space follow unbelievers believing they’re right yet when they stare back at you with those vacant eyes as useful as those empty boxes they keep the questions keeps popping up: happiness, right?
That weary mind, scratched and bruised from hauling absurdities is a constant reminder of what the rest refuse to experience – rebellion. Ever notice the light in those tired eyes? Ever stop to hear the tall tales told from the experienced mouth? No? Maybe you should before you invest in those baseless boxes. Maybe we all should.