travel

Travel is a peculiar concept to me. I want to traverse all the worlds borders, go to any place that doesn’t have an airport, meet exiting people; I would especially like to meet Baba Ramdev and show him my incredible talent of not being able to touch my toes when I bend over, like an obese man with a beer gut able to hold his beer, fish & chips meal and his obese daughter on one lovable bump. But what we do nowadays is travel to get away. Get away from the monotony of work, school, family life and the like. Have we yet to realise that we don’t really get away from anything?

Whether you’re in (or on, I don’t know) Sunny Beach or the snowy slopes of the Alps, you’re still you! You can’t disconnect your brain when you’re on holiday. You still have your mobile and laptop (by necessity some would say) with you to keep in touch with the very place and life that you’re trying to get away from, if only for a week, ten days or maybe even two weeks. It’s not a sudden splurge of nomadic existence when you get off the plane in Magaluf. I believe there should be mandatory hard drugs on holidays, just too really get ones brainbox away from all the stress and troubles of our own constructed “reality” because we all know that drugs work better than a shitty hotel/beach/drinking binge in Sunny Beach. Alcohol does some of the job, but smoke some heroin or run around on a schizophrenic journey with a squirrel on crystal meth and the horrid reality of your dead end life will seem immensely inconsequential. That’s a real holiday; why isn’t that on the itinerary of all this mind numbing packaged holiday hoopla? I would be the first in line at that radical travel agency!

Hare fucking Krishna

Siren