When I get a house with a garden, (yes, when, not if, although the latter might be more appropriate) I will buy a plastic mannequin hand or two, and prop them up from the ground, between the peas, the tomatoes and the carrots, prop them there, along with a fake tombstone I shall chisel myself to resemble a runic grave. That way i will always have a fake zombie apocalypse happening in by backyard.
In the same house ideally I will have a solar and a wind generator, water collectors that send the water in the cistern beneath the house, a filtering system, a small closed gazebo in the backyard where to write, and in a corner by a wall I shall put a forge. I shall want to make my own ropes and cultivate, and light the dark days in the attic by using water bottles.
I shall travel by ship for more than a week, I shall stay in the streets like a homeless man for the same duration.
I shall go to a place where I do not know the language and the language does not know me.
And all those things are dreams both big and small. Experiences to live and be. Meet people. See places. Be amazed. Discover things. Be perpetually curious, unfulfilled. Make your own strange bookshelves. Mix and match what is important and not into your own combination. Write about it. Write about other things too.
Then, read Ascese: Salvatores Dei from Kazantzakis again. And be satisfied you have accomplished your due, even though you do not share the same beliefs.
(I think I want to be Neil Gaiman)
In the same house ideally I will have a solar and a wind generator, water collectors that send the water in the cistern beneath the house, a filtering system, a small closed gazebo in the backyard where to write, and in a corner by a wall I shall put a forge. I shall want to make my own ropes and cultivate, and light the dark days in the attic by using water bottles.
I shall travel by ship for more than a week, I shall stay in the streets like a homeless man for the same duration.
I shall go to a place where I do not know the language and the language does not know me.
And all those things are dreams both big and small. Experiences to live and be. Meet people. See places. Be amazed. Discover things. Be perpetually curious, unfulfilled. Make your own strange bookshelves. Mix and match what is important and not into your own combination. Write about it. Write about other things too.
Then, read Ascese: Salvatores Dei from Kazantzakis again. And be satisfied you have accomplished your due, even though you do not share the same beliefs.
(I think I want to be Neil Gaiman)
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