The Hostel Guy

The hostel guy

Lives in a hostel. Why?

He has his reasons and we shall not judge.
He got a revolutionary touch.

He’s overcome the conventional lifestyle.
With the biggest smile.
He chose a path similar to mine; still very different.
But we could relate.

He has seen it all:
Hippies in their 50s that somehow got stuck on Crete, recently divorced women in their 40s who are still dreaming of their Greek summer romance, Swedish feminists that want to live in a patriarchal society or frustrated Germans that want to change the world while sipping on their plastic straws.

He’s been listening and giving advice. To all of them.
Trying to understand, consult and emphasize. That this way of life is not for everyone.
He’s heard all different ways of how people find excuses for not changing their lives. Lies.

He’s living, loving and laughing while staying on the hemisphere of average society, juggling his two-sided identity. No necessity
to choose.

He’s writing and reading, acquiring knowledge that others will never grasp.
Conversations ever last.

He found his place while not pressuring himself to do so.
But by observing, by learning. Applying and crying.
Maybe not so much of the last.
Still being lost, but true to himself.

A loner in the most beautiful sense.

I’m still thinking about his words, and his different thoughts.
Different from others, significant to me.
And I’m sure he’ll do great, wherever he will be.