Thoughts

It’s snowing in Toronto.

Well, sort of.

I look out the window and see little white specks, just dancing with each other, playing in the wind, oblivious to the world around them. They look as happy as can be. They don’t even bother going straight down, or even sticking to any surfaces for that matter, so content are they in their own ways – no, they’re much too lighthearted for that sort of thing. They’re just jovial enough to flicker for a moment in the air, flowing back and forth in front of us, giving a short burst here and there, and then disappearing from our sight forever.

I’m not thinking too much, or anything. Swear. It’s just really, really, really cold outside, and no way am I going out there today. So I’m gonna chill (heh) inside, relax, read, write, take advantage of internet access while I have it (aka stock up), and ponder the ways of the world. Being alone for prolonged periods seems to have this effect. I don’t think I’m unique in that way, it’s just the isolation. Nothing to do outside? Ok, then; time to go inside.
While trying to go to sleep last night, I was having trouble for two reasons. 1) I couldn’t get this nagging feeling out of my head that I needed to prove to myself that I have in fact done something with my life, and 2) the newest member of the dorm room snores like an industrial jackhammer. Running low on batteries. During a thunder storm. I mean, Jesus.

So to solve both of these problems, I grabbed my little notebook and a pen, made sure I had my keys, and set up shop on the little stairwell outside. And I wrote. This is what I came up with:

I’ve taken a piss in the streets of London. I’ve gotten drunk in the fields of Oktoberfest. I’ve been spat at in Spain and been accosted by an old drunk in Korea. I’ve been (partially) conned in Serbia and eaten the most amazing gyros in Greece that you can imagine. With French fries. I’ve witnessed the recklessness of children in Turkey and climbed the Dolomites in Italy; wearing sandals. I’ve known the wrath of a Portuguese housekeeper in Canada. I’ve been the victim of drive-by guinea pig urine in America. I’ve vomited in the waters of the Pacific and flown over the North Pole. I’ve eaten live squid.

I’ve been part of all these things out of an innate love to find the new. I become idle much too easy and find that my complacent self is not deserving of the joys made available to me. I want to experience much more than I have, I want to be taken beyond my comfort, and grow beyond myself. So I will keep going.

I then proceeded to write out a few short steps:

The What: I’m going to write. About my travels, about my findings, about my opinions and reactions, about the people I meet and the things I do. My obsessive need for collecting and my love for the process of accumulating will be channeled into this.

The Why: Because the more I travel, the more I forget. This is mostly an act of selfishness. I don’t want to look back and go “God, I wish I could remember that time when…” That’s not who I want to be. I want to experience my life, laugh at my life, take part in it, and be able to remember it at the end of the day, to realize just how remarkable it is. I want to create and express, and to be someone that I can respect.

The Who: Jason Gutiérrez Marrone, born April 8th, 1985 in Mad River Hospital in Arcata, California, USA. I am fond of hot dogs, quesadillas, and have a particular weakness for root beer of any kind. I have insatiable facial hair that refuses to be tamed. I have a love of music. I absorb art. I have the love of a woman who I am honored to call my person. I like blues, greens, and reds, but am not prejudiced against other hues.
I am me. And my heart is pounding.

The Want: I want to be good at writing. Not only for the sake of my memory, but also to have the confidence to share my thoughts with a complete stranger. To expose myself in such a way, to risk judgment, to gamble my integrity. I want to have this stranger read my words and become engrossed. I want to have a tale worthy of that kind of fascination.

At which point, I thought, and who’s to say I don’t already have that tale? I need to organize my thoughts, align the chronology, and write down all the parts where I felt joy, wonder, puzzlement, curiosity, absurdity, inanity – all the things that make life worth living.

It’s still snowing, but now the sun is coming.