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Lost Bullets

We were like lost bullets. We had been fired at the speed of sound in god knows which direction in the middle of the darkest night. Finding pure gold on your daily dog-walk around the park would have been easier than determining our location at that time. But the difference is that no one had actually pulled the trigger. Or, if anything, it had been us. We wanted to be lost. I always liked being lost. And I think we all can relate to the attractiveness of being-lost. We all loved our minds to get lost in thoughts during school lessons. And we always wanted to get lost if in good company during a day out in the mountain with your classmates. When I was 15 I travelled to London with my school for the first time. On the second day we took a coach from our affordable hostel by the suburbs in Croydon to Trafalgar Square. 5 pm was our gathering time to get back. My friend and I really couldn’t help getting lost in that occasion. London was offering us a very impactful  experience and the last thing we desired at 5 pm was jumping on a  coach to Croydon, so a little coffee came as the perfect excuse to take a couple turns... and the big queue at the coffee shop also helped. The best part is that we didn’t tell each other anything about our subconscious plan, and only by 5:05 pm we started saying: ’holy crap man we missed the coach!’. We then realised that both of us were acting our surprise so didn’t bother to act worried any more. We just kept wandering through those streets while happily sipping this glorious iced coffee, to finally get back to the hostel by our own means. 

These kind of situations in which the trouble encountered after skipping the norms is no near as big as the fun achieved definitely have marked my present life. Happy days!

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