I love that my week has no significance, there’s no need in my existence to ‘live for the weekend’. It’s Monday morning and I’m on the train to St. Austell in Cornwall, just because I can be.
I hate the thought that eventually my life will take on the typical format, if I let it. I could easily slip back into the nine to five. Careers are a 20th century invention, what happened to free living? We are removed from our consequences. If we don’t work for a day, we have no money, not no food. We are not seasonal, we do not visually depend on our landscape anymore.
This is normally when I would wrap up neatly, offering some solution or advice. But here, I can’t. I will live for as long as I can with self-determined structure rather than social expectancy, I will continue to see the world while others see office walls. Freedom tastes too sweet to give it up for bitter ‘reality’ yet.
There are no chance meetings, no fleeting love affairs, not even brief encounters. The people we meet, the people we love and those we encounter for even the smallest amount of time, a little piece of these people stays with us for our entire lives. Everything is a transaction, not in a consumptive fashion; instead we trade. It is a little piece of ourselves that is exchanged for a little piece of them - whether favourable or not - and through this process we build and we grow. The greatest of romances can have as much effect as bumping into a stranger, a callous word stays with us as much as a thousand caresses.
We should not underestimate, under value, or under appreciate those with whom we fall into contact. If every instance is a transaction, do not be shortchanged. Be the best person you can be, give away positivity, conscientiously object to those who would give you less. Do not place store in economics alone, they are likely to crash. Instead, have faith in people, in contact, in trade.
If you haven’t already, check this French soul-master out. His cover of The White Stripes’ ‘Seven Nation Army’ is already buzzing around the blogosphere, but the whole album is very much worth a listen. Partially in his native tongue, but mostly in English so funky it would make Aloe Blacc and Cee Lo jealous, he delivers catchy yet soothing songs that cradle you into rose-tinted specs. Ben has a classic, husky tone to his voice that fits in harmonious contrast with the fun and upbeat music that is produced - this is the vibrant motown reinvention that is rife right now, but mostly badly done, at it’s very very best with an unashamed metropolitan twist. If you don’t tap your feet at least, you’re a direct relation of the devil.