call of a stranger dove – on traveling

IMG_0532Oriental turtle dove – Streptopelia orientalis

* * *

My favorite addiction is a peculiar hunger…

A hunger for new experiences, new fragrances, tastes and sounds. New optical and tactile impulses… New atmospheres to dip in and dive deep. Soaking up, what the world has to give. The new, the unknown, the strange – bring it on…

Better I rephrase that – my favorite addiction is the confrontation with the strangeness of the world. Meeting it head on.

For me, it is most relaxing to be thrown into a world I do not understand. – Literally. (Well, that might happen on a daily base anyway… because I do not understand the world around me

A language I do not speak, is music, heard for the first time. Opaque and mysterious.

And I love mysteries. I love music. Every kind… The melodious nobility of Japanese, the verbal courtship dance of Portuguese, the smooth sliding of English over rocks and facts (someone forced you into  the Seven-mile-Boots while you were sleeping), the soft marcels of  Italian, the sharp tugging and turning of German…

– It’s like a huge disco party you are not invited, but you sneak in anyway. Or you play Peeping-Tom over illusionary security cameras.

Does this make any sense? The worlds rockets away beside me, and my finger tips brush along, on its surface…

But it’s not only the language, it is the background noises. The way people cross the streets, the metro jingles, the barking of dogs, the birds in another sky. Differing from country  to country – they differ unbelievably. For example, the common raven laughs at you in Japan (Ha-Ha-Ha), but it crows (Kra-kra-kra) at you in Europe. Even the doves coo  in different ways.

You see, there is this fundamental feeling of difference. Of being unlike others around me- the feeling of profound isolation.

Although I know that it  is delusional, on an emotional level, it is my reality. No matter where I go, it keeps me company, therefore it must be originating in me. I’m the epicenter of this (maybe) individual drive.

Now that I think of it…

It thrills me to be looped out, to be clueless. – How irritating…

I observe. I (pretend to)  filter information, like the world is a black box, forcing my own thoughts into it, interpreting, reading notions and impulses…

– Maybe it’s just genuine ignorance…

2 thoughts on “call of a stranger dove – on traveling

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