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No Man's Land stretches before me like the African savannah. In the distance I see the shimmer of heat in the air signalling the watering hole, the oasis of life, and green, and safety - Freedom and my final destination. I can just catch glimpses of it through the heat haze, a sparkle of sun on cerulean blue, a myriad greens that are thick and lush, tips of the shade trees, flashes of orange, of purples and reds dot the green with little white stars bursting forth here and there. It’s distant but it’s there and coming closer with each step. Sometimes, at night, when the winds just right and all is quite if I breath deep enough I can catch a whiff of the Promised Land and freedom. It’s ever so faint, but it’s there, the jasmine, the sandalwood, the musk of the shade tree forest floor. It’s so fresh, so clean and then the wind shifts and its gone. That's my future, the cool crisp water, the green, the colour, the flowers, will there be lilies in the water or lotus flowers, maybe both. Will there be smooth pebbles on the bottom to while my days away skimming across the surface of the lake?? Maybe, maybe, maybe ... But that's the future, I'm not there yet, I'm in the Savannah. I am in No Man’s Land. The Savannah that stretches forever, I've been here for a while, feels like forever, I am impatient to move forward there is not too much to battle here it’s just so blah. Don't get me wrong, it’s not a bad place being on the Savanah, with its grasses and spattering of watering holes, little ones like puddle. The wildlife is interesting. Let’s face it, it is so much better than what came before. Argh the dessert, the desolate and dangerous desert… where the thirst and the hunger plagued our every step, constantly, day in day out. The demon b1tch and her grating, nasal voice sat at our backs, dogging our steps with her caterwauling cries, with her temptations and promises and lies. Oh the lies. The burn and the stench of her fetid breath etched into our mind forever. And her minions of deceit, sent to tempt and urge us to ruination. To give up our journey… yes I think I do prefer the Savannah. You can still see the desert if you look backwards, it’s still close and littered with the corpses of each demon that was sent, and their rotting carcases being picked over by the scavengers. Our strength, their failure and demise… I can still see the last big temptation and trigger right just this side of the boarder, Dawn Service and 2 steps ahead ANZAC Day, the hyenas took their fill when we slayed those beasts and now I can see the vultures picking over the bones of their existence, never again will they be a trigger, they have been vanquished. But that’s done, we are through the desert and now again it’s time to move forward, the journey on the Savanah is long, but not endless. The beasts are minor in comparison to the before. But the danger is perhaps greater. Lulled into a sense of safety with the diminished frequency and intensity of the demons and beasts sent to trial us I fear we will be negligent in preparing our defences. I fear we will be complacent and leave openings and gaps in the barriers. No longer does The Warrior march the perimeters of our mind ready for battle ever alert, she is letting the battles of others again take her attention. Not so vigilant to our safety on our journey. This concerns me.. the laissez-faire approach our little group has adopted… the c0cky feeling of already achieving our goal… but we have not crossed the Savannah yet… we haven’t passed the last lion, or cheetah or hyena. We are not home free. There are trials to come and the watering hole oasis is still so far away. We need to get off our laurels and keep working at it.. its not over, regardless of how much I choose to sing, or crow, or brag. It’s time to keep moving. Come on people, on your feet we need to make tracks. As I look around at our little travelling group I see Little clinging to Mum’s leg, always slightly confused as everything seems new, and exciting, and fun but it’s also scary. Little likes to hide and pretend the bad things aren’t there if we left this to her we’d be curled in a ball in a dark cave somewhere. Sure life would be easier on this journey without her, but she is so funny and silly and kinda cute in that precocious 3 year old way. And then there’s the Kid, she’s the driving force always forward, no regrets, live every minute 100%, I’d say 90% of the trouble we find ourselves in is because of her, she has no fear, everything’s an adventure or a challenge and she knows we aren’t but acts as if we are invisible… she is impulsive and fearless and reckless, she’s the one to push us ever forward but she’s also the one most likely to fvck this up with her dares to the others to test our progress. She needs free reign to push us forward but she needs to be controlled and for God’s sake keep her away from the sugar, her, Dare and Addi… they are a bloody nightmare on the sugar and caffeine. We need to cut Addi loose in my opinion but the Kid says no, there are NO REGRETS… so we are stuck with the crazy b1tch, the dead weight of stupidity that she is. Mum’s my favourite, she is rational and calm, she sorts the messes out and tidies them up, she cares about all of them, hell she cares about everyone she wants to put band aid on the knees of every wound on earth and kiss em all to make them better… maybe she’s not my favourite. De is kept under lock and key because she has a tendency to drag us all down and along with the Kid she is the most likely to make us give up the journey, to lay down and die and let the demon dogging our travels win… she pisses me off most, but she needs to be freed, briefly, every now and then to let out the tears because otherwise the dam might break. Then we have the Princess, who’s pretty quiet and way girly but when she rares her head it’s all about her, just don’t tell her cos the tantrums would put Verruca to shame. Mems, who is our record keep her, she is the volt of knowledge that is everything and anything and then there is Reg, the spokesperson of our little group, she is a bit of everything and probably the most sane, which is a scary thought cos Regular Jo aint that sane. We round of our troup with the Warrior, fearless to the point of stupidity, stubborn, loyal and insanely protective she will take on anyone or anything to protect all she considers her own, and even those that she doesn’t if they are weak or being wronged or outnumbered. It would be nice occasionally if she though before opening her big fat mouth or went wading into a battle with fists flying.. but she is a necessity. She got us here through the dark days, she’s been doing it for decades. And then there’s me, I’m The Narrator, the voice of reason in the craziness, the internal monologue, I tell it as it is… or as I think it should be… and give a running commentary of everything. Warrior and I don’t really get along, especially when I use the Megabeast’s voice, thinks I’m half our problem… but I digress… it’s time to haul arse out of this Savannah cos I’ve had enough. (OK so I’ve been thinking on the whole no man’s land phenomenon for a week or so and had this whole post planned about my biggest issue being I feel like I have lost my quit identity… I feel bad claiming to be a newbie because I am so past that but I can’t claim to be an old farte either… so I just feel like I lack an identity, a label if you must.. and I like labels, makes everything neat and tidy but only if they are alphabetically arranged and facing the same way… anywho, I sat down to write it and the above came out instead.)
