Life on wheels

For a few months or for a lifetime, I’m not yet sure, but the desire to put myself in a box on wheels and get rid of every unnecessary piece of paper fulfiled with names that are helplessly trying to prove who owns what and numbers existing only to calculate the value of my existence based on consumed electricity, has always lived within me. The whole absurdity of having to choose just one place and spend the rest of your life there sounds like the beginning of a horror movie to me, the one that also ends right there, at the very beginning.

They also try to put the planet we walk on scale by various measurements, but occupied by all these huge numbers, it seems to me that they miss the essence. The planet is immeasurable; what it offers us cannot be put on paper and sent back to the cosmos in the form of a New Year’s card to express gratitude for the 7,827 waterfalls counted so far, 4.6 trillion hectares of forests, 307 million lakes, 2.6 millions of different species of animals, 4 oceans and I think there is no need to continue with the listing. There are already enough people who earn a living from making lists and calculations. Anyway, alongside all these results that they have achieved through arduous calculations, and which I am aware of today, how could I ever ignore the need to at least try to experience them in person?

I’ve never claimed that twenty-four-hour movement is suitable for everyone, and I fully understand people who love to wake up in the same bed with a view of a window whose frame they’ve chosen themselves every morning. There is no difference between us, literally; I’m sure they’re pursuing their own paths, just not on wheels. To be honest, I even envy them sometimes. I think about how wonderful it would be to feel good even if you don’t change your place of residence every few months. I tell myself I’d have the opportunity to develop a close relationship with the neighborhood, have my own permanent beautician from whom I listen to the stories about all the other women in the quart, maybe I’d even develop the habit of taking out the trash from the apartment every time I head to my car.

It would be ideal, maybe; because then I snap out of it and remember the sense of captivity that, through quiet whispers about the possibility of remaining forever in the space I am at that moment, suffocates my dreams of untamed wilderness, from which the gallop of horses can be heard. During those days, I manage to be productive, to finish all the tasks that require my static presence, but I’ve never managed to feel, I won’t use the word “well”, not ‘‘healthy‘‘, I’ll choose the more painful one – free. And that’s why I’m on the run, I’m running while I still have the strength because somewhere deep inside me, I’m aware that the faster I move through unexplored forests, unswum oceans, and untamed clouds, the more strength I have for new breaths.