The desert (3)

The stasis of deserts legitimate

[Reader be aware that the title of this entry is, at best and wishfully, wordplay on the title of a song by the Swedish orchestral-death metal band Therion. However, knowledge of the same, both band and song, is not required for the reading of the following text]



I am fully aware that it will happen in about a month’s time from now; not that I’m counting down the days as some people do in hopes of being celebrated, but rather because it is an inescapable fact of my life and I am tremendously aware of it. Inevitably it will happen because I am—still—alive. That is: the day I was born, my 32nd anniversary of live birth; or, in short, my birthday.

A wondrous and momentous occasion for everyone involved, including those who hold me dear and those who rue my existence alike—because what is life if not a clear contrasting duality of facts and points of view.

And it is no small feat to live over three decades in this planet, or so I am led to believe by independent observers, because after all, there are many who were not able to come this far chronologically, and, as someone once said: “in this life, you’re on your own…”


Like never before and quite possibly like never after, I will celebrate with a purpose, I will celebrate with gusto—à la Zap Brannigan—and with a sense of completing one of the benchmarks for which I was placed in this earth: the fulfillment of a life-long dream or purpose.

Self-imposed of course; because, who else would impose their dreams on me? That would be folly.

For the past three years of my life, it has been it—life itself—who has prevented me from achieving what I’ve desired for the last five or so years of my life due to sickness, hospitalizations or general lack of funding has not made attaining said desires possible: visiting the forest that is. The universal forest is what I mean, not a specific forest rather the forest in general (though I’ve heard The Black Forest is beautiful this time of the year).

That unique combination of factors such as land, vegetation, fresh air, elevation, virgin landscapes, wildlife and pure water; that is the forest I long to meet, know and remember from my first glimpse to my parting gaze. Why? Because I’ve never been in such a landscape and/or climactic zone of course, no additional reasons are necessary to my taste.

I’ve lived in deserts, yes; I’ve lived in the city, also yes; however, I’ve never encountered the forest as one would in movies, fairytales or the magical whimsical videogames of warriors, sorcery and open worlds I so much enjoy. As I just mentioned, I have knowledge of it thanks to current technology, thanks to books and novels, thanks to videogames and movies, and, also, thanks to family members and acquaintances who have poured their beautiful experiences and memories, from their hearts and collective conscious, into the empty vessel of my soul—currently devoid of forest memories for good.

I am well aware of my unique functioning as a man full of emotions, guided by feelings and full of introspection and uncertainties. So it very well may be that other individuals don’t long for things and don’t see locales in the way that I do. I romanticize the visages I’ve never seen thinking of the impending beauty that waits for me, all I have to do is arrive at it. I elevate the ideals of a nature which I am yet to visit, partly (I believe) because it is unknown to me and as such should be an endless fountain of memories and beauty.

At the same time, I am comfortable in my concrete surroundings, in a walled-off abode that separates me from the nature which once covered the land where I now live. I do enjoy—perhaps sinfully, perhaps egotistically—the pleasures of the common men and women of this time and age, everything at the tap of a button, everything within our grasp, and all with immediacy.

And still I also know of (and know in fact) deserts, beaches, an inlet sea and one ocean. But there is more. More than the surroundings to which I am accustomed, more to this world of which I only know a mere fraction, more to the deserts in which I was scorched by the heat of nature and the contrarian heat of already established societies and ideals which I didn’t share—deserts in both terrain and ideologies, separated from “the rest” or “others” and very much inhospitable.

So it is that after many orbits around our sun the need and the desire burn within, telling me to complete this sort of pilgrimage to the one true god of nature and untainted beauty. And who am I to deny it or to deny myself?

It is time, for me, to accept the planet in which I live and it is time for us to meet and establish our most primal and intimate of connections: this life…



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