What matters more the journey or the destination?
If I don’t know what the destination is, is there anything other than the journey?
I don’t have goals, I don’t know what my destination is. It’s been a couple of years since I had a definitive goal. Even then it wasn’t all that big in the grand story of life. It was to get into my current job and I did it. Now a days I don’t know where I want to move onto from this job short, medium or long term. The only job that I really wanted, I didn’t get.
There was something different about that one, I’m not sure what. I think it was a chance to actually do something of my own. I’m fairly limited in what I can do now, that was less so. Still spilt milk and all that.
I want to be able to speak another language. French in particular although I would like to be able to speak Irish too. The latter is for similar romantic notions which I touched on recently, the latter well a smidge of that but a whole lot of hope that it would open up a lot more things for me.
People with languages constantly impress me. My parents have fluent Irish and French (my mother to Masters level). My sister has Irish, French and Japanese with Chinese on the way. My sister, I still can’t believe that one at times. I have a smidgen of Irish and French, far less than I should have given my 12 years of studying them. 12 fucking years and I have almost nothing to show. The one thing I do have is a foundation, I just need to get myself together and build on it. That’s a goal I guess.
I’ve been trying to think of things which have changed this year and I can’t I can sum up the end of year memes with same shit, different year. The highlights are my friends without a doubt. Cementing rediscovered friendships and a couple of others going well but of course a couple more getting that bit further away. Such is life I guess.
I’ve written a whole lot, I’ll bet my blogging for the year is the most to date. That’s a good time to remind myself to back it all up. Absolute horror story of a friend loosing years worth of material just a few days ago. While I rarely re-read it, that would just devastate me. So the FTP is going on it’s merry way.
I haven’t had much to say lately. There has been a whole lot going on and a week of not feeling so good conspired to keep me down in the dumps and not in a writing mood. I’m not quite out of them yet, hell I’m not even sure there is an easy way out but I’ve been meaning to type some stuff for a few days.
I miss living in Battersea sometimes. Around here if I want to go for a walk late at night, there just isn’t a nice option. There was more than one night where I could walk out my front door and be walking alongside the river within 2 minutes. Load up my discman and more than once I found myself at Westminster or even up to Leicester Square. There isn’t anything so nice around here, at least not that I have found.
And now as I’ve wandered way off track, I’m going to sleep.