I think this is pretty much recurrent in my life.
Initial huge drive, seems to be of little progress, take a break, find excuses and then resigned to fate.
It definitely makes me feel bad and weak whenever I had noticed that life seems to be going be just that. At times, I do feel sick in the stomach when I know that I had become a drifter. Ah yes, a drifter. The proverbial someone whom is akin to a drift wood on the ocean, just drifting wherever the ocean brings it.
Here is a story.
After months of floating on the ocean in a life boat, I awake to find sea gulls in the air. Was I hallucinating? Shrills of the gulls once again penetrated my skull. LAND!! I have reach land!! I looked out of the boat, and there it was, the sandy beaches and towering mountains with clear blue landings. It was my lucky day; even the currents were pushing me towards a landing. I bolted out of the boat, like a kid chasing an ice cream truck, and I knelt down on the soft sand. Finally, I have reached an island.
Of course, this is not an end to all my troubles. I have absolutely no clue where am I, my goal was to survive and make my way back to civilization. Back in my mind, I have a niggling feeling where I am, yet I am hoping that I had hit a populated island like Papua New Guinea. Unbeknownst to me, I was on an uninhabited island among the French Polynesian islands. I laid on the sand and face the sun, no more bobbling up and down the oceans and worrying about sharks or the potential sinking of the boat.
I dusted myself and decided to head into the rainforest to set up camp and take stock of the situation. As the weeks passed, I found places to fish, a plot of land to cultivate and a cave to hide from the elements. A year passed, I have learnt how to fish and manage to grow basic vegetables like Potatoes and carrots, and have shifted from a cave to a makeshift wooden hut. Initially, I was malnourished, having to feed on berries and tree barks. Then, I told myself that I have to survive, I have to keep on going. Little by little, I managed to get my strength back and start to pick up on new skills. Now, I am living in a comfy hut with food on the table. It’s incomparable to the days where I was eating in a restaurant. But, I can survive and just got on fine.
Just the other day, a crate washed up on shore and I found a soft toy among some books and magazines. I use the magazines for smoke signals, so that any passing plane or ship will be able to spot it. The soft toy was an owl; I decided to call it Flippie. Please do not ask me why, it’s a name that pops out of my head for some reason or two. So Flippie became my new friend, well, a pretty rude friend per se, as he does not reply back. Everyday Flippie will accompany me as I set out with my daily routine, pulling in the crabs from the traps I set along a rocky beach called Rocky (named by yours truly). Sometimes I will follow a stream towards a huge waterfall called Thunder to see if I am able catch any trout. Afternoon, will head into the forest and cut down wood and search dry tinder. Evening will cook the food and watches as the sunsets beyond the horizon.
Months flew passed, and many sunsets have set, my pages of magazine began to wind down. Some days I questioned the very need of tending to my smoke signals. Where was I from? Do I truly need to get back to civilization? Flippie though he is rude, but there have been no arguments or conflicts. I have been able to eat enough to survive and my hut was good enough to survive the elements. Weather has been great; blessed with no typhoons or earthquakes here. Only once did I see a water spout in the far distance and I thought was an incoming typhoon.
One day I dig further into the crate and found a huge stash of books. I began to read them while having my breaks in the afternoon and evening time. Through that time, I was transported to various planets and worlds and romance stories and eventually civilizations. As time passed, my dreams became ever so fidgety, I dreamt that a family friend has seen the end of days, I dreamt of the possibilities that I could have in civilizations and lastly, I dreamt of being stuck in a cage. As I sat at the smoke signal point and staring at the crushing blue waves, another side of me was willing me to restart my journey to back home. I lit the flame and burn the pages of magazines once more as I watch the black smoke rises up into the dimming skies.
To quell my desire to stay, I decided to make short expeditions along the coast. Wondering whether is this island at all or is it linked to the mainland. Alas, as I headed eastwards, I came upon towering cliffs which I am sure I can’t scale them. Without proper gears, it’s certain death. I knew westwards are pretty impossible because the “Hell-holes” were there. That place looks very treacherous and that there were breathing sounds from the caves as waves after waves pounded the rocky shoreline. To my back, were the mountain ranges of “Zeus”, huge imposing mountains which seems to me like the Gods of Olympus might be there. With my limited gear and clothes, I do not think I will be able to survive the snowy ridges of those mountains. It would seem like the only way is to head out back into the ocean.
So that's something that I am experiencing right now. Just thought of putting things in a story mode.