Maybe it’s just me, but have you ever felt like life would feel so much better if you could just live on an island, cut off from the rest of the world? My dream island is New Zealand (pretty sure that counts). For some reason, in my head, places like New Zealand and Hawaii remain completely unaffected by the troubles of the world. It’s almost like nobody cares about them, and they like it that way. They don’t meddle, they know what their purpose is. They’re paradise. Have you ever noticed that most images or descriptions of paradise (including Utopia) involve an island? Makes me think that there’s something more to this theory of mine then just crazy ideas of a 23-year old.
Sometimes I just sit down and scroll through my facebook and twitter and see all of this useless information. On top of that there’s the news I really don’t want to hear about anymore. And the stuff that gets me really depressed is what makes the news today. You can seriously go scrolling through your page and go from „War and Death in Syria” to „Twitter Battle between Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. The fans of both stars go down to the trenches”. All that, makes me want to teleport myself to a time and space without internet. Of course, I’m fully aware that considering my personality I would probably wither and die within a week of disconnecting me from the source of my daily cat video dosage, but still… Feels good to dream.
I picture myself, surrounded by this peaceful and beautiful landscape, free from the noises of the city. In those visions, my mind is as clear as the ocean. I know what I want from life, I know who I am and I know what to do. It’s all simple. Because it all happens outside of all the complications of the „outside world”. It’s an island. My Shire. I can sit down with my toes in the sand. Or better yet, sit at my desk, facing the lively ember green you can only find on islands. Tune in with the nature sounds and the only sound that would mix up with the voices of birds and the whistling of the wind would be the sound of typing. Typing, one novel after the other.
My island. My paradise. My writer’s hut.