WANDER by Skinns

December 8, 2008

Wandering is not just aimless time wasting or general lack of geographical knowledge. Wandering is a state of wonderment, except it is coined as wandering because you are moving in the process.

The only time I wander usually, is when I am either drunk or hung-over. Strangely enough it was only yesterday that I was in a state of wander. A hang-over prevents you from connecting messages from your brain to your mouth, muscles or limbs and as such you find yourself walking into things, your mouth can’t shape words properly and frankly you stare like a pervert, because for that one day of a hang-over your in a constant day dream.

Going to the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park was torment for my drunken brain, the lights, the volume of people, the smells; it was too much to take in at once. You find that wandering in this way confuses you as to actually thinking about what your physically doing, what lies ahead for you in the future and whether you’re really just as lazy as you suspect. It also lets you think about what you enjoy so much about your life, i.e. how good you felt the night before.

Wandering is, for a short time, a sense of freedom just to step back and think about you. Back home I live in a small village in the countryside. The kind of place so isolated everyone accuses you of being inbred. So there’s no stress, no traffic, no endless buildings, no tubes. There’s plenty of time to wander, and since there’s nothing but hills and fields there’s not a great deal to contemplate. It’s relaxing. Of course on the other hand, wandering around London is fascinating, what people wear, the buildings and the variation of cultures.

But there are of course those people who wander and dawdle around when you’re trying to walk somewhere and that is infuriating. I am a hypocrite, wandering is fun as long you’re the one doing it, anyone else and it’s just damn annoying. Luckily though when hung-over you don’t really care do you? Sometimes, the illness aside, it would be a nice way to enjoy the day.

This is what this blog is all about, stepping back as if you were in a state of wander and contemplating what words mean to you and expressing them.

I would like to assure everyone at this time, as far as I know I’m not inbred…hopefully. Maybe I’ll go for a wander with my parent’s and find out. Although when I’m hung-over I look like I well could be.

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