My legs feel heavy. Why? I don’t know. My right feet is hanging over the left side of the bed. A little breeze from the van above me is touching my skin. My eyes won’t close. Gazing from one place to the other. They are wide awake. As is my mind. Why can’t I just go to sleep? I don’t know. I’m in a luxurious hostel compared to a lot I’ve been in. I took quite some relaxing time today. Ate alright and watched some series. I thought I would be normal by now. And with normal I mean: curious, energetic, interested, hungry, foolish and cheering. Now, I don’t feel much, don’t want much and don’t know much. Not excited about that volcano and not excited about that river. I can’t be exhausted of the traveling right? Or can I? I took it slow, not rushing, not wanting to see every highlight and not went from one country to the other like crazy. I feel like I could have done much more, like going to the rivers and mountains in the north of Nicaragua or see more in San Salvador. But I didn’t do it and that’s fine by me. I don’t have to do anything. With traveling there has to be no such thing as pressure. It already can be exhausting, but you can also make it even harder for yourself by getting every chance you have to do and see something new.
So I thought I took it easy.. what makes me feel like this then? That literarily everything is changing al the time, so you can’t rely on about anything? Not a routine, not one person who’s always there, not a place, not a situation.. Do I feel like this, because I have to adjust all the time? I thought I was comfortable with this shit and owning it; embracing every little thing I wasn’t sure of; experiencing the adventure and just let it happen. Yesterday I was fine I guess, but now I feel kind of empty. What happened in the mean time? Do I feel like this because I don’t have an end date? That just practically nothing is certain for me? That I maybe scared too sometimes? That I will not have money left and won’t be able to do the stuff I love and have to head back home? Regularly I have these dreams that I’m back in Holland. But it all feels so wrong. Everything goes wrong: the ticket back to Latin America is super expensive, my backpacking stuff is gone, I get stuck in this routine.. and I just want to get out but I can’t. A nightmare.
Maybe it’s because I can only rely on myself? I’m the one who’s arriving in an unknown street in a city I’ve never been before, trying to find my way. I’m the one asking the questions. I’m the one who decides where to go next and how and for how long. I’m the one who has to think about my safety every day, assessing if I should walk back or take a taxi this late. I’m the one who has to keep an eye on my stuff -three bags- on buses, in taxi’s, on the streets and in hostels. I’m the one who finally decides to take my camera with me to that market or not. These things are now kind of normal to me, so it takes less of me now. But still, those things push you to be alert, and that can be exhausting. The last day I thought someone had opened my locker. You can’t imagine how freaked out I was. Or just tonight when I walked back to the hostel and I realized it was maybe too late, because the streets were almost abandoned. Or even two days ago, when I decided to eat a hamburger at one of the little ‘snackbars’ on the street and I suddenly got paranoia for getting sick all over again, so I bought a coke right away that may kill all the bacteria.
Maybe it’s because I don’t have any close relationships for a longer time. That the people that know everything about me are miles away. That I can only see and hear them via a screen. Maybe because I get attached to people and used to them, but then finally have to let them go again. It’s so, so good to meet all these interesting people. It’s one of the best things of traveling. But sometimes I find it sad to spend so little time with someone who made such an impact on me that quickly. Or I just find it hard to be with the right people at some specific situations, moments when I need a good talk, but what you can’t have with everyone. And also, it can be really exhausting to meet new people everyday. You just start to select the people with who you want to spend time with, which sounds really horrible but I think is just very logical. It’s just not really realistic to connect with every person you meet.
Maybe it’s just me trying to find my way of traveling. Figuring out a way to do this for a long time. This traveling is my lifestyle now, because I will do it for a indefinite time. I have to get some things straight to keep up with this way of living. I always had trouble finding a good balance. I consider myself more as a person of extremes. I can be so focused and enthusiastic, but also really distracted and restless. There are periods I work really hard for something, and periods I don’t do anything. Or phases where I’m into that and the next I will be fed up with it. I can feel really, really positive and happy, but also feel extremely down. And these feelings taking control over everything and that can be annoying as fuck. So now, I’m probably more in a low. Something that didn’t happen a lot during this trip. But this is definitely the most extreme one. Maybe it’s a three month thing? Like a couple who are struggling because they reached the 8 months -or whatever month.
Maybe I do know something. That I just have to listen to these feelings and also my body. It’s probably just fed up with me and my cravings for new adventures. I try to do the daily stuff I do at home: organize my stuff, wash my clothes, take care of my body, cook, buy fruit, eat sweet stuff and watch series. In this way I don’t think about stuff, and don’t realize where I am and what I may have to do. It’s like stepping into a movie and forget about your own life for a while and then when it ends, pick it up again. Afterwards you can start again and fresh. Editing my photos and writing stories are a good way too, but those are so related to the travel that sometimes I can’t do that neither. It’s too much then, and too much is just never good for you. Even while traveling. So the conclusion is that travel is about fun, but it’s also about jumping and falling. It’s like any other life. If you’re living in one place all the time or if you’re going from one place to the other: you will have your ups and downs. Even though I feel a bit down now, I still love this lifestyle. I choose for it and I will do it again and again. Just hoping I don’t have to break up with myself when I hit the eight months, because I can’t stand myself anymore..
I can finally feel my eyelids falling down, while writing this last part. Maybe because now it’s not stuck in my mind anymore, but on paper? Or maybe because I’m just really fucking tired right now. Good night.