#thoughtsofawanderer

https://youtu.be/lKsQR72HY0s

I used to adore Dolly Parton. I've been a fan from the beginning. But now that I drive through the night on an empty road, alone with my thoughts and one of the most misused songs is coming from the radio I really start to dislike her.

"Bittersweet memories. That's all I am taking with me. Good bye. Please don't cry. We both know that I'm not what you need."

Lovely. If Karma is trying to tell me how it kicked my ass once more, it could have chosen a less obnoxious way. And not ruining a song that already has been ruined by Whitney Houston many times before.

"I hope life, treats you kind. And I hope that you have all that you ever dreamed of. And I wish you joy and happiness But above all of this I wish you love."

Now that's bullshit, isn't it? She's singing about leaving someone she loves. If you leave someone you love, you don't want them to be happy. You want them to be miserable. You want them to miss you and not eat or sleep because all they can think of is you. You want them to be at least just as miserable as you are.

...

Or maybe that's just me.

On the road once again, The Clash is blasting their everlasting question from the speakers. "Should I stay or should I go?" It's true, one should know when to take his leave. When kindness is merely bred from politeness. When having him around becomes a habit and nothing more. Like the first cup of coffee in the morning. Like the bagel you have with it. It's not great. It's not even necessary, but it's part of your everyday routine. It's convenient to have at your disposal.

I'm no one's routine. I'm no one's habit. No one's bagel and coffee to go.

I've got my edges, and I'm proud of them. I developed them over the years and I won't blunt them to fit in.

And so I'm on the road again. New town, new people, new beds to crash in.

Another day on the road. Just me, myself and I.

People get used to company too fast and before you know it, you're the guy who's "always there". The one they can return to after a bad day. After one of their fake friends turned on them.

Yeah... no. I'm no one's backup plan. I won't sit anywhere until my company is required. I don't just reappear when shards need to be picked up; when someone else's mess has to be cleaned.

Queen - Somebody to love

https://youtu.be/kijpcUv-b8M

I found myself at just another random bar, drinking the night away, when a young girl, blond, full lips and a face like made of china, entered. She looked so out of this place, someone like her didn't belong here, she instantly caught my attention. She was dressed for a night out. I could tell she's been crying earlier, and even before she stormed towards the counter, lips pressed together to imply some kind of dignity as she crossed the room, before she ordered a drink that would only serve the sole purpose to get drunk fast, and before she looked at a message flashing up on her phone followed by a muttered "I hate boys" before she slammed the phone's screen onto the counter, I already knew her story. It was a story of expectations. Of two worlds colliding and instead of creating a new universe with thousands of stars, it only created desolation. And the remaining shards were now sitting two seats to my right, twisting and spinning her phone, gaze lowered while she waited for her drink.

When she took a first sip, it was followed by the expected reaction. She managed to conceal the cough with the back of her hand, but I couldn't help but smirk to myself as I lifted my own glass to knock my drink back. And apparently she noticed. Sharp brows furrowed when she glared at me. "What's so funny? Not all of us have the liver of a drunkard." Both, her words and the defiant expression on her face - despite the light blush of embarrassment - elicited a chuckle and a single shake of my head before I turned to face her. I surely wouldn't have expected that much spunk coming from a face like this. Looks can be deceiving, they say. "Looks like you're working pretty hard on it." I replied with a smirk. I didn't mean to come across rude. She seemed to be in distress and I wouldn't get anything out of it if I added to it. Besides... she seemed nice. Probably more than that, but I wasn't hungry.

Her gaze averted bashfully to the drink in front of her, but her tone is just as snappish. "I have my reasons."

"Don't we all?" I countered dismissively, then turned my attention to the barkeeper to order a refill. Wordless, only with a gesture. I've been here for a while and this wasn't my first drink tonight. When I looked back at her I saw a picture of misery, clinging to the half filled glass she struggled finishing. Apparently she thought it would be easier. Everything. Getting drunk. To forget. Life. I wondered if this was her first heartbreak. And I moved over to sit next to her, gently taking the glass from her grasp. She didn't fight it. Nor did she fight her tears. She'd pour her heart out to a stranger tonight. And she'd feel better tomorrow.

No, she wouldn't wake up in that stranger's bed. Or with bite marks on her neck. She wouldn't conceal one mistake with another. She would wake rested and with a new view on everything.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkyF8c5v7uI

I came across a cathedral last night when I was out to get a bite for dinner. Inside I could hear a female voice singing beautifully. I can't tell what it was that made me falter and eventually drew me inside, but once I was, I stayed close to the entrance in the shadows, leaned against a pillar; the creaking of my leather jacket as I crossed my arms echoed through the vast interior when the young woman by the altar took a breathing pause. But none of the few heads turned. They were all spellbound by the angelic voice of the blonde.

The idea of religion and faith always amused me. With all the answers science had provided over the centuries, the concept of a higher being who made everything and everyone and to whom every soul would return one day still has not ceased. Perhaps it is the knowledge that death is a cold, hard fact - your body simply stops functioning and shuts down - which draws people all over the world into believing that there must be more after we close our eyes forever.

And while I was just as mesmerized by her voice as everyone else, I thought about my own existence. Some would say, this is hell. Being dead, like me, but still wandering amongst the living. Not quite like them. Unable to move on and stuck here for eternity. But is their existence so much better? I looked around in the nave. Only a few people had gathered, but they looked like they came here regularly. They aspire to be at their best at any time. For what purpose? In the end we all just close our eyes and stop functioning.

I was never a believer. Not while I was still alive, and even less after I turned. Stefan insisted that he had seen mother after her death. But he was just a child and it was probably a dream. I've seen many dead bodies in my time. And nothing spiritual ever came out of them.

But I can admit the strength and hope faith can give those in need. The human nature is a peculiar one. They don't trust in their abilities unless they believe it is given by a higher power.

But I guess those thoughts are not for us eternal creatures. We know our strength. And we know there is no hope for us. This is the end. Our existence won't exalt. We will be just like this, forever. We don't age, we don't get sick, we don't die. And if there ever was a soul, it left the moment I turned...

I stood in the shadows and watched the woman sing. And while I stood there, musing over the meaning of eternity and the existence of an undying soul while the hymn came to an end, the blonde noticed me. And smiled. And I smiled back.

They always fall too hard too fast. I already find myself in another girl's bed and she clings to me like to a life-saver while being sound asleep. She's beautiful, I can admit. She almost looks like her. Almost. But this fact won't sway me. I am beyond any hokum. If there was ever anything Katherine was right about, it's how love gets in the way. It's a weakness. Those who care are bound to get hurt. Because everything in this world - even the world itself - moves towards its inevitable end. Everything ends. Everything, except the eternal suffering of the immortal. This immortal.

It is one of those moments, one of those nights, where I can't thank my brother enough for dooming me to this existence. But I am the selfish one.

But... what if he's right? What if it's him who accepted his nature and that he'd never grow old? What if fitting in, like we're still human and participate in a normal life, full of meaning, with obligations, relationships, even a job until it's time to move on is the whole point of an eternal existence? Isn't the measurement of time the moments we spent with others we care about?

So, after all... is it my brother who accepted his fate and not me? Am I wrong to think we are predators and the mortals are merely our prey?

.... pft, nah!

Sun will be up soon. I still have a few moments to ponder whether or not I'll take her life before I leave.

I'm not dead.

Sure, I'm not alive either, but let's not split hairs.

For those who were wondering, I've spent the past six months in a town far, far away from Mystic Falls. I'm staying with someone I met here. Her name is Marian, but god forbid I ever call her that. She doesn't like her name. I never asked why, because if I'm honest: I don't care.

She doesn't ask many questions either, which I'm glad for. Last thing I want is a constant reminder of the past. I'm staying with her, but I come and go whenever I want, without being questioned. Some nights I spend outside, hunting or just enjoying some time for myself, other nights I enjoy her company. The sex we have is amazing. She's a crazy one. She also knows how to not get too invested. Just what I need right now. The perks of some pleasant company without the downsides of ...feelings.

Feelings and I are on the outs for now. For good for all I care. But we know that humanity eventually finds a thin crack in the wall to slip through, right? I'll push it away as long as possible. For another 30 years, or maybe even more this time.

Because feeling leads to remembering. Leads to thinking, and probably remorse.

I know I did the right thing when I left Mystic Falls. I won't let someone's guilt tripping convince me otherwise. Even if this someone is miles and miles away.

I won't. This is my life now. It was about time I moved on.

Fun fact: There is such a thing as a death hangover. It wouldn't have been as bad if I'd fed properly. But who would have known I wouldn't make it to the next town?

It took a couple of hours after I woke up, before I could actually move. The noises my joints made when I pushed my body off the ground are beyond any comparison.

Hitchhiking I made it to a small town. An elderly guy who didn't look very nutricious picked me up. Robert smoked four cigarettes in our 30 minutes drive. I could already smell the stench of cancer cells steaming from his body, but I'm sure he already knew that his clock was ticking.

He insisted on having me for lunch at a diner. He seemed to know the waitress - who was about his age - very well. There is always that one elderly waitress who looks way older than she actually is, with a heart of gold and plenty of stories to tell. I listened to their brief exchange of pleasantries. They probably had quite some history together.

A weary smile spread on his face when she left and he lowered his gaze to the plate in front of him.

"Are you married?" He suddenly asked me as I threw some fries into my face. I shook my head with a slight smirk. "Not the type for all this 'til death do us part' stuff. You?"

I noticed how his gaze wandered briefly to the waitress again before he replied. "Waited too long." He paused and then looked at me. He probably doesn't have any children either and our conversation since he picked me up on the road seemed to give him some sort of comfort. "Don't make the same mistake I did. Because nothing is worse than spending the rest of your life alone."

I ate another bunch of fries, rather unimpressed by his speech. "Tell me about it." I said with a sarcastic tone which brought a frown to his face. Of course he didn't understand. How could he know that I've already spent more time on this world alone than he ever will. Especially with that cancer blooming in his lungs. "You're still young. You've got plenty of time." He's cut off as I burst into laughter. "Let me tell you something about time. The less you have, the more its value grows to you. It's why humans regret the things they didn't do as they grow older. It's why they regret in general. Because their time is limited." I leaned a little closer across the table. "But /I/... I have plenty of time. And I've got nothing to lose. So, no regrets on my side." A short pause followed which I used to decide whether to compel him or not. And I did. "Forget we had this conversation. You came to this diner with a thumber who left after lunch. You didn't ask his name.... Now quit smoking and go talk to your girl. She's been talking about you to that other lady since we entered."

I rose from my seat, nodded towards the waitress and left the diner. I didn't even finish my lunch. All this human company made me lose my appetite. Their problems and standards don't apply to me.