I dream of a day in the future. In this day I will be balder, wrinklier and flabbier. My words will roll into each other and saliva will spill out with each vowel I wispily rasp. I will shake a shaky fist at the dandiest young kids who don’t give a fuck about old gramps. And I will have trouble keeping my guts in my intestines.
Ah the New Year. It comes around so soon….so many memories from the last and dreams for the current. What will happen? Who will win? How will I do? It is impossible to know the future, but you can prepare for success. And shit loads of it.
I saw a recent comment here and some guy said..” this all sounds too much like some ‘life coachery’ stuff which makes me cringe , ( just some thaughts ,fly on the wall stuff , )”.
I freakin’ cringed myself reading that. Is that what I had become? Over the course of 4 years writing here I have shocked, thrilled, disappointed, inspired, saddened, bored and amused – but I never thought someone would take me for a “life coachery” type of guy.
I’ve been on the road now for 20 months. I have travelled from Venezuela north through Central America, spent three months in San Francisco and then flew back to Colombia and journeyed south to Bolivia where I type this. It has been a mammoth voyage. In two weeks it ends, as we fly back to New Zealand for the summer.
It’s a wet week after the finals of the GAA championships on the Island of Ireland. Glorious victories for Dublin and Clare played out in perfect autumnal weather. Soft sun, still air and a gentle give in the turf led to some ferocious battles of true modern day warriors.
Watching the games from Hotel lobbies in Peru and Bolivia, one could imagine Ireland as some kind of warm European country. The blue skies and short shorts make for tantalising viewing.
There is a hurricane of shame that lives inside me. I think hard and long and smirk at the wasted years. Long nights lingered in lowly oblivion.
The warm smugness of the delinquent muse I once loved, laughs at me now – such an oft told tale which pumps the lungs of many the fallen man.
Oh was I a quirky boyo, quick on my feet, winking and nudging? A scoundrel for the devilment, supping and guzzling, smoking and sniffing, carousing and jigging?
I am cutting corners today. I am simply going to post an email I receive from a guy called Jon Rappoport. Anyone who has an interest in the future of our food should be aware that the president of the USA is guiding us to global GMO food sources. This is a massive worry. People need to wake up to what is going on. We are so easily distracted while they create a weird, convoluted future for us.