walking naked

So its been 11 days since I got back from my vacation. Or maybe 12. And still, not a single thread of energy diving my bells. For sometime, I wondered if it was the recession or my joblessness (I’m technically jobless, although I have a job), or the fact that my story — “the inconvenient truth” got rejected at 6 places, although it was a finalist at one of the publishers.

Or maybe it’s the one month long vacation, walking over 150 miles, countless liters of beer in the three beer capitals of the world, hard hitting clubs in the best cities of Europe, making friends from 8 different countries, countless museums, learning different cultures. It sucked so much energy, that after coming back to Boston, I haven’t gone to a pub, a restaurant, cinema or met a friend and I don’t even feel like blogging or uploading my 2000 pics. Suddenly, the most mundane things in life — like watching tv, preparing dal curry at home, sitting on a potty for an extended time, reading TIME magazine, seems like the most productive thing I’ve ever done. And then, I look at my watch and I wonder — was it all, a dream?

It’s like having the best sex in your life, and your nuts explode like if a volcanic eruption had just separated the lower part of your body, but you still have a gleaming smile on that face, because you no longer are searching for your limbs. You’re transformed into a meditated land, you begin to see things differently, the sounds are jibberish, the people in the subway look like martians on the wrong planet, and the winter wind, no longer cold. You are elevated above the normal dimension. A sense of freedom like you don’t care anymore. No beer or movie and for hours together, you sleep like a baby. You know that it’s not gonna last long, but it’s good, almost like a psychedelic but without the mushrooms and I tell you and you better scribble this little secret on a piece of paper — the difference between freedom and desire is, walking naked.