Young Writers Society

Think of waking up early on a Sunday morning, to the cool damp air, and suddenly deciding to go somewhere. Eating breakfast and packing a bag, with everything you need. Think of grabbing your bike and riding, going nowhere and looking for nothing in particular. Well, one is always going somewhere, it is merely a matter of whether or not you know where that place is. Riding with the sun on your back, watching the world go by, looking at all these people living their own little lives. Maybe some of them know each other; Maybe some of them know you. It can be hard to tell, with all the people you’ve met and then inevitably forgotten.

Just riding through the streets, finding things. Places you never knew about, things few people have seen and even less have truly appreciated. Maybe you curve off the roadway and glide into a forested park, looking at how wonderful and big the world actually is. It makes you feel so tiny, but why should that be bad? Just because you’re small you can’t make a “real” difference? Look at all the people you’ve made smile, isn't that real enough? Seven billion people in the world right now, and you get to be one of them. The past is comfortable and the future is full of potential, but you get to live in the present, where that potential is decided. The future is what you make of it, and you get to choose. How miraculous is that?

Perhaps your legs get tired, and you sit on a bench to eat some food, marveling at how alive everything is. The world around you swirling in a mystifying dance you will never know the steps to. Then again, no one ever does. We all just do what we think is right, our steps only making a dance when paired with everyone else's. You have a map, but you feel no need to use it as if to remain “unconnected”. Of course, you are always connected, no one is ever truly independent, it is not in our nature to be alone. In trying to disconnect, you only change the type of connection, this is one of the beautiful ironies of the world.

The sun is no longer high in the sky, and you find yourself retracing old paths. your mind is not quite there but not quite gone, hovering in that euphoric limbo of existential peace, Inhabiting a space of calm enlightenment. You find yourself riding down familiar streets, a sense of melancholy peace in flowing through your body. You are not in a hurry, there is no need to be. You cruise softly home, feeling happier then you have in a while, knowing the world will still be there, that you do not have to stray far to find yourself, and along the way, you can find so much more.