The end...reprise

I can't do it. I can't go through all the wonderful places again. It's too upsetting. I don't want to be here in England. I want to be on the road.

"Man is born free, but everywhere is in chains".

That's how I feel. He was a smart cookie, the guy who wrote that. Jean Jacques Rousseau. He wrote political philosophy. I might have mis-spelt his name. Don't care. All I know is I have this emptiness inside of me. This turgid fatalism. I know my travelling goose is cooked, at least for a little while.

Where next? Scandinavia maybe, then all the way south to Greece, criss-crossing eastern European countries. Perhaps South America. Who knows. But somewhere. Anywhere. Any place that I can wake up and feel alive in. Yes, I've been bitten. But the truth is I already was. I knew what I was doing. The box (Pandora's) is open but you know what? I'm glad. That's the way it should be.

Everyone needs a 'reason' - something other than friends and family. Some greater goal. Some find it in religion, some in sports, activities, music or whatever. But this is mine. For good or for bad. I need the road, and I'll be on it again as soon as I can. Anyone fancy it?

Thanks for reading. Until we meet again.

Rich x