When your dad wants to know if you’re still alive I think it is worth writing a blog and letting people know that you haven’t been attacked by scorpions or become involved in the Mafia runs from Sicily. As of yet neither of these things have happened although I did just see the biggest bumblebee of all time. No yellow though just black.
I’m sat in a bar drinking awful beer and listening to a Maltese man laugh hysterically at everything for no reason, the red Budweiser sign is hanging crooked on the wall above a blonde girl. I have spent most of this Friday night reading ‘Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,’ which is an amazing book and slightly more enlightening than a bottle of whiskey. Not by much though considering the benefits of whiskey. There is a story about everyone on a movie set getting ill in the 1930s because of the diseased water on location in the Philippines. Everyone except Humphrey Bogart, who only drank the sugary brown stuff. I’m pretty sure that that proves very little but seems like a good excuse to drink whiskey anyway. Getting cleverer is the main excuse for reading the aforementioned book. It’s a banger.
The question of truth jumped up into my life again when I started reading the book, like when you notice a certain type of car and then seem to see them everywhere. Where do we find it!? Being here in Malta, away from most of the things I know has thrown the idea of perspective right into my mind, mixed up with the thing about truth. With truth there are so many perspectives. And inside those perspectives are a thousand variables, usually defined by beliefs which bring with them a set of prejudices. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. The amazing thing, though, is that these layers of difference are your own. You own your beliefs, your prejudices and the perspectives that they form, along with a million other things. It’s hard, actually really hard, to clear away the fog and see with clarity. It’s definitely something you have to work on. The blonde girl just walked in front of the TV with three men who are all huddled around the weather report. There are suns all over the screen so I don’t know what all of the fuss is about. It was more than 20 degrees today and by far the warmest I have ever been in the month of December. In Malta they are obsessed with the weather because they see so much but get so little. The island is tiny so you can watch most storms just blow over to Sicily, Africa or the Middle East. And the reports are always wrong. In England we don’t notice the weather for most of the year. A different perspective I suppose. The only truth with the weather is when you look up. The rest of it is through someone else’s eyes.
The book is coming on well and the horse is happy. A girl from Belgium is leaving tonight so we will say goodbye to another person and surely welcome another soon. More thoughts than ever. Did I mention the cactus in Malta has Mescaline in it?