The traveller’s game

I think one of the disadvantages of being a traveller is that you can play your game on and on and on.

You keep on meeting new people and start telling them your story.

How you like it told.

How you like it spoken.

How you like it answered – when it’s asked.

How you like it transformed – each and every time.

On and on and on.

You know, I was born in a small town.

My parents got divorced when I was 10.

It was a traumatising experience.

I was a very ambitious professional in my early 20s.

I love to read and write and paint and draw and sing.

All that story,

All that jazz,

All that bullshit,

All that fuzz.

 

But you don’t get to the point when people get to tell you:

Man, I know you. This is shit. You shouldn’t do this.

You shouldn’t be loud when you wake up if there are other people sleeping.

You shouldn’t feel embarrassed for no reason, just because there’s a toxic person next to you.

You shouldn’t brag so much because it takes you nowhere.

People don’t get to tell you that.

Because you’re a traveller.

You get to places,

Tell your story

And then get out.

Puff!

Next stop.

Next stage.

Next audience.

Same game.

Take a mirror with you.

Not Dorian’s.

 

(i should read that book).

 

 

 

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