Archive for the road trip category

December 18, 2007

The Day Has Come

Posted in drawings, road trip

Hi!

I’m sure you’ve heard the popular expression, “One day, you’ll look back on this and laugh,” right?

Well, I’ve decided to take you on a road trip back through my past so we can all have a good laugh reliving the horrendous, hallucinating, violent, degrading, humiliating, boring, ugly little moments that made me who I am today. (No smoking in the van.)

We’re bound to enjoy a few more chuckles once we start pinpointing the numerous unfortunate events that splattered my life, and then we’ll have even more fun connecting the dots to see how this game ends up proving yet another popular expression, “Everything happens for a reason.” (I may conduct a poll for this one, so get ready to participate.)

Though I’m telling you this with a wink and a smile, be advised that we are embarking on a serious mission. There are certain things I wish to understand, and many secrets need to be unearthed and revealed—once and for all.

You see, I wasn’t always this passionate person infused with positive energy who’ll be driving you down memory lane. Au contraire. I used to walk through life feeling as if I was captive inside a mammoth boil, and this putrid mass of blubber totally blocked the way out of the tunnel—the famous tunnel at the end of which one sees the Light. Thus I dragged my sorry self for decades, in total darkness, wallowing in puss.

Delusional.
Dishevelled.
Depressed.

But it’s all over now, Baby Blue. Because somewhere along the way, something snapped! And when I felt that snap, I knew the boil had burst and that from then onwards, I would be surfing on the waves of happiness.

So one of the things I’ll be seeking an answer to on this journey—and you’ll have the chance to witness the amazing discovery—is how the puss turned into happiness.

Now this could be big…
See you tomorrow!

Warm hugs and lots of love,
Oza a.k.a. Mudd
(and vice versa)
xoxo

P.S.: Hope you’re not allergic to dogs—my faithful Daisy is coming along for the ride.

Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you.
Forget the dead you’ve left, they will not follow you.
The vagabond who’s rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore.
Strike another match, go start anew
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue.

– Bob Dylan