Set me free.
Work is knocking at the door, but I am unwilling to open. We keep on running, keep on trying to change the world, keep on trying to make a difference, keep on being pragmatic, thinking with a cold, rational mind, in a continuous chess game. But I am tired of this world, tired of coldness, tired of thinking.
All my life I have been thinking how to do the right thing, how to get where I want to get, how to confront my fears. Somewhere around the road something changed. Maybe I got where I wanted, or maybe I am in the middle and I want to do something different. Maybe I am too wild for the civilized (=insane, godless) world. And the tiredness of struggling inside it made me want to run away.
I would like to get on a train and travel the world. Stop picking up the phone, stop worrying, but never stop caring. Listen to some good music, meeting some mad people, climbing some damn mountains. Finding my Ithaca across the world. I would like to live outside my history, outside borders, inside the wilderness. Guess that’s why I chose McCarthy.
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