Dear Atlas Mountains, I get you. I totally get you. Sometimes in life we reach that certain point where we lose track of who we are and we just don’t have an effing idea of who we should be. And it sucks, maybe because society dictates that this dilemma should be long gone by the time we hit our late twenties or early thirties. And how old are you again, 60 million? That’s fucked up, but you don’t have to be sad, because that’s what makes you beautiful. I think I just quoted a One Direction song. Shit.
I saw you from afar during the first hour standing there mightily, like a boss. It seems like I’m not the only one getting a good dose of Saad Lamjarred nowadays, huh? Trying to get close to you was a real pain in the ass. It took a lot of effort, but I was helplessly attracted to your beauty. I found it quite mysterious how you seemed so colorful and full of life, but it was also rather obvious from a distance that you were trying to conceal something from me, like the noticeable abundance of dandruff on your head.
But who am I to judge. I guess all of us tend to be like this while in the company of others. We try to impress people with the depths of the emotional gorges of our soul, the flowing rivers of our life experiences that are simply hypnotic to listen to, the lush array of colors we’ve laid our eyes on as we travel and get to know the world. You showed me an ideal version of who you are, Atlas Mountains, so attractive that I just couldn’t help but get to know you better. You literally got me dancing on your slopes.
It was during the second hour when I found out that you could be incredibly complex, even more so than I could have imagined. You suddenly became this frigid bitch, particularly hard to navigate and damn cold. But instead of leaving you alone, I pursued you even more. Every guy loves a challenge and you are the perfect conquest. I admired you even more for who you are despite the fact that it was getting harder and harder to deal with you. Somewhere along the way, I started having doubts.
A lot of memories were immortalized on Facebook and Twitter, but what they didn’t know is that it wasn’t all fun and games. Every picture meant walking on thin ice and enduring your silent and cold demeanor. Every minute became shorter and shorter as you became harsher and harsher. What happened to the lively façade you had on display just an hour ago? Why the sudden change of heart? But I was still under your spell, and I was enjoying and suffering every second of it. I guess I love you like that.
It was during the third hour when shit got real. On one side you were cold and detached, but arid and welcoming on the other. I marveled at how such stark contrast could harmoniously co-exist and how your mood swings caused us difficulties. But you know what? Your allure never faded. I was witnessing a beautiful disaster, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off you. You got me so high I began to ask myself if I could still bear the thought of getting back down to solid ground, with no other choice but to stalk you from afar.
But every roller coaster ride must end. It was during the fourth hour when signs of life multiplied along your ravines. I realized that there is always more to look forward to other than the surge of adrenaline that such an experience could give. You can’t stay high forever. You will have to go back down to Earth and live with the only thing that has ever been constant in your life: Reality. I reached Yunkai before the heavens turned off the lights. I was safe and alive. I was ready to take on another day.
Thank you, Atlas Mountains. I don’t often go on road trips but I must admit that it was the best I’ve ever had. The challenge of the ascent will remind me how life could get so tough but you just have to keep going. The anxiety of the descent will help me recall how it could be so hard to part ways, but you just have to because something greater and more awesome might be waiting at the foot of the hill. Thnks fr th mmrs, I’m letting you go.
[OUARZAZATE] The Atlas Mountains and Letting Go
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