Machu Picchu

#11

It is as impressive as everyone said it would be. Marvellous. A clear blue sky, a world of green, mountaintops as far as eyes can see. Birds are chirping, some girls are posing for pictures. I stare in awe at the village on top of the mountain range. This day is something different.

*

It is as shitty as a thought it would be. Horrendous. A dark grey sky, a backyard full of garbage, rooftops as far as eyes can see. Cats are fighting, the neighbours are playing loud music and are shouting. I stare in anger at my ceiling. This day is exactly the same as yesterday.

*

At home I lay: angry, frustrated, nervous, stressed, depressed. These feelings keep on rising up. I’m done with it. I wish I would be more numb, more indifferent. I want to flee.

*

We climb up to the main viewpoint. It’s morning and this part of heaven is not yet flooded with tourists.

“Machu Picchu,” I mumble. “Look how far I’ve come.”

*

Far away from home I stand: numb. There are nearly no feelings ever rising up. I’m okay with it. However I wouldn’t mind a bit more fluctuation in emotions, a little less indifference. Yet I already fled.

*

A hand reaches through the clouds in my mind. I recognise the tattoos. The hand grabs the contaminated thoughts, crumbles them and throws them into the abyss.

I need to stop.

Over six years I spent trying to recover, trying to understand, trying to invest in friendships that held no value, contemplating suicide. Now I spent months diving into every opportunity of entertainment, company or love that arose. Not realising I’m merely tiptoeing in what could be. Not once holding my breath and peaking underneath the surface where the cause and solution lie.

*

On top of the viewpoint overlooking Machu Picchu I pose with a pack of painkillers in hopes of a sponsorship deal. A security guard runs up to me and tells me advertising is not allowed.

I bend down on one knee and look him dead in the eye: “On behalf of [Company Name] we are deeply and truly sorry. We will do our utmost best to prevent future...” He leaves.

*

I need to stop confusing uplifting moments with overall happiness. I’m done with acting as if I’m progressing whilst staying stuck in the same way of thinking. It’s time to renovate the mindset and exterminate deep rooted habits. That is where my peace can and will be found.

*

We descend the steps and enter the village. We walk passed low stone walls of which every stone and pebble seems to have its own meaning and story. Incas were indigenous and ingenious.

*

Not to worry. My writing is catharsis, I bleed in ink. I’ll continue to be sarcastic, overly sexual and will maintain humour dryer than a Weet-Bix. And I’ll never cease to ridicule hipsters acting to be kind, posting philosophical quotes, whilst in reality being an egotistical piece of human faeces. But I will try to let go of the shackles and heavy weights of that which is my, soon to be, former way of thinking.

Writing less negative will have a positive effect on my mindset.

*

Our Peruvian guide passionately explains the history of Machu Picchu. I catch about half of what he says, but fully absorb the moment. I see rabbits, deers, birds, all enjoying nature’s playground and man made greatness.

We pass by a unnecessarily loud, attention seeking grown man wearing his snapback backwards. I tell him that hanging himself with his skinny jeans on the nearby tree will guarantee to get him a ton of likes. Afterwards I kiss the girl that’s been making my wiener feel weird all day and walk on.

*

To leave it all behind and come here. What a choice I have made. What a choice I should make.

I take in this sensational experience, these astonishing surroundings.

I feel the beginning of an emotion. It’s a start and an ending simultaneously.

Finally I sit down and focus. I place my finger nails against the thick, iron shackles. Cutting away layer after layer.

I try to smile. I’ll make it out.

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