Five Leaf Clover

Mamma always told me that the best things in life are free. Quite honestly, I don’t think that anything is free anymore, no matter the circumstance. I just got back from a three day camping trip in the middle of nowhere. I slept in a tent, while having my back battered by rocks, I had some of my buds around, I had fresh air, booze and complete silence, which made me more stressed out than ever. Even our meter long food bill seemed ironically miniscule when compared to the hunger in our souls. Even though no one spoke of it, we all had made a silent pact, a promise to ourselves that we were there to break free from the manic garden of delight that is living a dream while being awake. We were the most recent contenders of survivor à la Madeira. Our goal: live life to the edge. Well, maybe that wasn’t their objective, but it sure was mine. I’ve given up on so much since high school. Drama class opened my eyes to something new, to characters, to different lives, to a new me, far from the one I had learnt to admire and disgrace. I have learnt that life is too short for hours of work books and despicable theories created by the serendipity of sexless French assholes wanting to be remembered. I wanted to make the most of those three days. I wanted to meditate and find my tranquil garden. I thought that by being a daredevil I would be leaving the sin of caring behind by placing my most recently found virtue in its place – risk. I hardly ate, I drank like there was no tomorrow and I swam in near freezing water, inches from hypothermia. What for? For liberation. For freedom. For life without love! I have found a cure for everything. From memory loss to heartburn to sexual urge to insomnia. All but one. Feelings. I have no antidote for that. No snake venom is stronger than love. Nothing is quite as addictive. Nothing is quite as sweet. Nothing is quite as sour. No matter how cured I want to be or how much I fool myself into thinking I am, it’s going to take me a while to forget the girl from my dreams. Not the girl of my dreams but the girl IN my dreams. My script is almost complete. I’ve still to pick a title, a location and a purpose. The cast is half full, all but the lead star. The muse. The faceless stranger. The angel of my nightmares. The uptown girl with the girl next door smile. I guess I’m not in a hurry. I know that I’m just a fool with an imagination. I’m all but a miracle worker. No one is but God. He created me, blessed me and damned me. He knows best. I will never understand why.