drrieux

His words stuck with me and I knew that I would have to pace myself for the rest of the climb. I wasnt sure what it was that I would miss along the way (because I thought the goal was the most important aspect of the journey), but I knew that he was not one to be disregarded. The things he had told me were strange and I didnt know really what to think of them. How was it that I had created him? He was an entity separate from me and not only that he was a different species. Though I couldnt exactly understand what he had said, it seemed to make sense. It was like when one does a math problem and seems to be blindly plunging into the work, but somehow reaches the end. Or perhaps a better example is language. For most people speaking their native language is second nature and, for the educated, writing is also of the same status. A person recognizes that certain formations of sentences are odd or just plain wrong, but they cannot always tell you why that sentence is wrong. Most responses come as, I dont know why, but it just isnt right. These people dont exactly understand the reasons why a sentence makes sense, but it does nonetheless. This was my situation and with him gone I was left with questions and no answers, but the situation I was in left me with no option except to trust him. A person, such as I am, does not appreciate predicaments like this because I am inqusitive and want to know why I should be doing something before diving headfirst into it. If I cannot see the sense of the result then I am not likely to engage in the activity. There are those who live a spontaneous lifestyle, never planning anything and functioning on a whim, but I am not likely to proceed in such a manner. I appreciate habit and the comforts it brings. Through habit I am able to be productive and live a lifestyle that is accomidating. There are times when it lacks excitement, but I would trade excitement for security and safety. This was the mentality I have had all my life, until recently that is, until I decided to go out on this adventure and leave everything behind. From what I had found so far, all that routine and comfort had been nothing, but a waste of my life. Like Don Quixote I had spent my time with my nose in books reading about adventure and never embarking on one. Luckily for me, I was not out jousting windmills; instead I was talking to strange men in caves and taking advice from a talking deer. Perhaps I looked like a fool, like Don Quixote, and I was imagining everything, but I had no Sancho to help me. I was in this on my own and had only my senses to trust, hoping they would guide me to whatever end I was seeking.