thoughts from beyond the pillow

i wonder if there is ever a time when we have actually 'found our feet.' it seems as if life is just a series of the ground moving from beneath us, and us trying to sort things out in order to stand up. the excitement is enticing, but sometimes, wouldn't it be nice to just stand in peace?

since i got to this island, life has consisted of intense amounts of adjestments. i knew i would miss things in canada, but i didn't think that i would forget what life in the west can be like in such a short time. we can forget things so quickly when our mind is filled with the difficulties of everyday life.

i remember when i first got here i fell all the time. not little falls, not tripping here and there, but big smack-your-ass-on-the-pavement, get-me-a-bandaid-i'm-bleeding-from-the-head type of falls. i remember looking at the sidewalks, and noticing that there is no normality to the manor in which the pavement was laid. if there was a tree stump in the way no effort was made to avoid it, the pavement was simply raised a few inches to compensate for the natural way of the earth. i remember walking into numberous objects suspended from the air: cables holding up food stands, loose power lines dangling with death buzzing through them, small bags of food, birdcages, small children, a motorbike's front wheel, you name it, and i would walk into it. i think it took me about two weeks to actually look where i am going whilst walking. there is not a moment when you can look away...walking is like driving here. in canada, when i would walk home from class in university i could read a book. you would hear the crunch of the footsteps of a fellow walker and know the avoid her. but here, there is no chance of me even looking at the person i am walking with, for doing so will result in one of three results:
i) tripping on a rat, having it bite my foot, getting some foul virus i can't even say, going to the hospital, being treated with a dirty knife, and as we all know, i would die
ii) decapitation by suspended cord holding up a food cart which is in turn holding up three small children, holding two dogs, watching a bird, who if scared, will gnaw through the cage, attack me, and i will end up in the hospital with a version of i)'s virus, and, once again, die.
iii) fall into one of the cavernous abysses that exist between the slaps of cement, only to fall to a demise not unlike those resulted in i) and ii), but ending up with a broken next, eliminating the possibility of an open casket, which i am sure my parents would want, seeing as they haven't seen me in six months.

so you see, life here can be difficult. there is not a day that goes by when i am firing up my motorbike or crossing the street or dipping my toes in the ocean when death doesn't cross my mind.

is that what paradise is supposed to be like? is that what i wanted when i bought my ticket?

the thing is, i am used to it now. i can't even remember fears i had in canada. i can't remember being afraid of anything. fear has made me more aware. i look when i am walking. i am part of this world. in canada i was part of the world of my books and my thoughts. i am slowly lifting my head, and looking at every little piece of the earth before i make my next move.