Hunter S. Thompson knew a thing or two about stories. That they live in you and through you and sooner or later, they gotta come out. It took him 40 years from the 1960`s to 1998 to finally tell The Rum Diary that has recently be made into a film that finally I caught up with last night. I´m keen to read his book. From the story he told, it seemed to be saying, that in a world full of illusions it is difficult to see the whole picture. Often we get side tracked going on a longer way round on our path than we need to. This may take us on a scenic route and we get to experience more of what may or may not be good for us; I still have faith that we all have a story to tell and sooner or later it`s gonna come out in whatever shape or form we choose--'this is me, this is the world I lived in' Hunter expressed. The world continues to live around us, do we get caught up in the chaos, or find our story to be told. Our meaning, is not to be found, but to be created. This is no great insight, many have found this golden nugget of truth, but how often is it forgotten?
Sat on the tube to North London, from the Indian embassy, I knew I would miss my train if I caught this same route back into central London. So before grabbing my bags at the house, I ran up to an off-duty taxi, asking him out of breath if he could make it to Kings Cross on time. "No problem" came the reply to my surprise. A quick direct route took me faster to my destination than any public transport would have. He proceeded to tell me that the tube takes all passengers on the longer way and that actually I was nearer to my destination than I thought. Story of my life, I pondered as we got into a discussion about how fragmentary life seemed to be-just like the London transport. If only we all had a big map, just like the taxi drivers, then we could all see exactly where we are going. Without that we have to make do with piecing together the bits that are presented to us, often that send us in round about directions only to miss our train-metaphorically speaking of course. Luckily, this time I made mine, with minutes to spare. So did Hunter S. Thompson, before it was too late he remembered to tell the story of corruption and greed amongst the Americans in Puerto Rico whilst almost getting wrapped up in it himself. He had begun to forget his mission as a writer, in an alcohol fueled desperate haze to ignore the seemingly hopeless situation "I´ve got something that will make you feel better" growled an already gone fellow journalist from the paper "Death"? replied Hunter. He made it though. Maybe it was because he found true love? Or was it because he knew that if he didn't do something about it, no one else would? Nobody really knows what makes the spirit in each one of us, true faith, our own faith, kick back into action after we thought all hope has gone. Whilst there are universal themes our story is an individual, personal one and it is that individuality (not individualism) that makes its way back to the whole. Perhaps it is at that point, standing on the edge of abyss, that vast nothingness stretching out before us, that brings us back into life, to our soul, to our path. This time, with no long routes, no short cuts, just the direct way. No more fragmentary views of where we are going, but the whole picture, so we can really see our destination and how we need to get there. Knowing all the other paths as well and realising that some of them, will lead us astray and to the wrong destination. That way we get there, fast and on time, so we can finally catch our train.