Pushing the Borderline. Chapter 2

Being alone was not like a bee sting but a traverse across the borderline of human needs towards unity with nature- a very basic and instinctive and maybe primitive calling he felt. His ego needed this.
It was like when you are grown up you like to joke in a very simple way and you call it- acting like a child. When you are a child you want to act all grown up. There is a lot of sensitivity in all this thinking and imagery when you are a child and likewise when you are an adult.
There would be no spring crisis here, as it is hot all year ‘round. Getting all his clothes together and adorning them , well, he just walked on. Just some miles or so. Probably quite a few if he kept up his usual pace. He was cool. Following the primrose way. Giving him space, entity, at least for the time being.
Why wander naked when the first human being was a tailor.
He opened his umbrella to shade him from the beating sun, took a firm grip on his carpet bag and wandered forward in time.
Here he was he thought, jotting it down on his invisible notepad, treading on the surface of one planet in the universe.
He couldn’t understand why others didn’t seem as amazed as himself, at the ideas and dreams he had. Maybe he was a little impulsive and his spontaneity caught people off guard. It was as though they didn’t trust him. Trust was a redeeming factor in anyone’s life- you just had to get to know them well enough. How far did he want to go? He didn’t really know himself or did he? Human beings are too thoughtful he jotted down on his invisible notepad.
He had lived in the shade for many years and he actually thought that maybe it was what he was destined to. Of course the sun did shine and he could do a bit of thinking and reasoning as he wandered down the dusty track but he had to make some decisions. This was real difficult for him because when Lady Luck came his way now and again he caught a hold of her , clinged to her and then , like a puff of smoke , she was gone again. He must apply his strength as though it were the last thing he could accomplish. It gave fresh air to the lungs and a feeling of success. These two things were truly vitalizing.
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The bittersweet taste of youth lay there on his tongue, actually illuding him as it was a time gone-by, he couldn’t swallow it but he could chew on it forever if he wanted to.
He knew that there was something in store for him further down the line or rather - down the dusty track. Just what it was he was not sure. He was pretty certain that he couldn’t avoid whatever was coming. At the same time he also knew that he would have to take advantage of it if he was to survive this particular adventure.
He was tired- this is a very natural human trait. The heat and the dust.
To the west green fields reached out for him- to the east the ocean. The sun had not yet set but it would not be so long so he beelined towards the protection of a large willow’s foliage. Here he would spend that night and in the morning he would turn inland. He put his hat down beside him and stretched out- the setting sun sent rays of dwindling light through the leaves and the quiet murmur of the stoney brook flowing tranquilly by made him drowsy and gave him away to sweet slumber.
During the night all matter evaporated. The Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost became stunned by a moon beam. He was in between , where the subconscious overpowers body, mind and soul. He had a poets spirit, he was a poet of need and lust. His notepad was invisible. In his dreams he was still walking.