current location: on the john. beaches backpackers hostel, airlee beach.
current mood: thankful, peaceful, ..happy?
currently listening to: never let you go - justin bieber (take my hand, let's just dance, watch my feet, follow me, don't be scared, girl i'm here, if you didn't know, this.is.love)
this really is a miss-match of an entry. putting a few things together and hoping for the best. a little like steve mcclaren. that dutch accent is something.
so i've just realised that i really have been lucky to meet so many awesome people throughout my travels. they each have a certain immeasurable impact on who i am becoming and what i am doing. and i like it. but so far, my most favourite experience of this form came last night. we had been invited out for drinks with people and crew from our two-day whitsunday adventure cruise thing on powerplay. free booze, free food. awesome. i was drink talking with the skipper of our boat, 52-year old paul. we spoke for at least 45 minutes before he introduced me to the daughter of a multiple boat owner. the daughter of a multiple boat owner who happened to own the boat that paul skips and we had just spent two days on. but that's beside the point. he introduced me to her as "a truly lovely fellow". and that actually meant a whole lot to me. so this post is for skipper paul..
on a totally separate and sadly pessimistic note.
some people just have a face that says punch me. and if that weren't enough, the person's body language reads like an insolent commercial advertisement for the kind of product you get mad just thinking about. what the fuck is this world really coming to when we have to set aside a fantastic 24-hours as a reminder for people to do something nice to someone else? it's just about as if the other 364 days are spent so completely preoccupied with ourselves and what we need and want that it comes down to this contrived excuse for sincere affection.
some days i feel like saving the whole wide world. fixing everything. making life good. granted, i spend most of my time asleep. often dreaming. other days, i feel like designing some type of suit that will withstand some type of bomb that, when i emerge from the suit in a post-nuclear fashion, will leave me no longer surrounded by complete fucking sludge heads that live for almost no other reason than to drive me absolutely and completely mad. and, and, and, my friends - when that idea feels creepishly close to becoming a reality, i just pour myself some more tea and do nothing at all. too me, far too me.
i've been thinking more about what's going on. i don't think i'd ever be happy waking up and doing the same thing over and over. i don't think i'm happy even writing that sentence. how can anyone be comfortable slating "absolutes" over themselves like they're the sheriff of they're own pathetic cardboard town of a life? i guess i just feel that way because i am so entirely without the propensity to stick by anything. i then, out of sheer and complete jealousy for anyone capable of such a feat, can only spew rhetorical hatred that carries about as much weight as the combined poundage of all my finger and toenail clippings. and they're pretty fresh.
i'm into swimming more than i used to be. and biking. and yoga (if i ever had been into that). though i need to get bigger lungs. a willing trade to be made. will swap for some of my currently impressive tan. i miss doing that stuff back home. i will re-route when i'm home.
i miss many things made accessible to me via a very neat and tidy monday to sunday schedule to which i could almost be so bold as to render the title "normality". if not, at least "consistency". a back-up i find so much room for. so often. but right now, i'd give much of what i have away in exchange for consistency. as i am almost positive that it's absence in my life just may very well be the root of most of what i consider to be the cross(es) that i bear. whoever said it first sure had it right. YOU DO IT TO YOURSELF. cheers mama.
i still kinda feel in a stupor of some sorts. i'm also completely confident in my desire to want to express just how tired i am of people admiring "how well i'm doing" right now - i'm really not - it has nothing to do with anybody's measure of gratitude or humility. it has more to do with the soulless fucks who shit out of their mouths and are the absolute farthest thing from genuine affection and human contact. i'm sure a lot of it (well, all of it, actually) stems from my resentment that every person i come in contact with is NOT one of my friends. (excluding present company). every person i meet and interact with is not somebody i have a relationship with.
and, in fact, in turn, all of that is a result of how much of a detachment issue i have with home and my family and my friends. who mean so much to me. so much so, that the very thought of not having them around, let alone replacing them (temporarily of course) with shit eating, smoke blowing, faceless fucks that have nothing better to do than waste my time with their senseless observations as to never once thinking that, "hey, i wonder when the last time somebody asked this guy 'how he's FEELING' as opposed to 'what he's been up to lately'".
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confidence. friendliness.
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i'm not drinking enough water.
i'm not shaving until england are knocked out of the world cup/emile heskey scores. i'm not really sure the beard is doing wonders.
i do finally appreciate the fact that i'm not working.
i do worry far too much about money.
i do get homesick when i panic.
progress of odds & sorts!
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