I POSTED ON A TOOSDAY.
I am officially
loosing losing it.
So today’s post is a leetle thought that struck my leetle mind while riding back home today. I was in a tuki so there was more room for thinking and less room for decision making such as, “Should I overtake” or even better, the “Thou shall never pass for I am a bitch” rule of driving.
That is when it struck my wee little head about how unaccomplished we all feel. Or is it under-accomplished? I’m not too sure of the difference actually. Given that I have been on a ‘forgetting’ spree followed by a ‘I-don’t-know-what-happens-after-this’ spree over the last few days, I seem to be checking less boxes and crossing off less lists. Less lists. Alliteration FOR THE WIN matey.
It is at moments like this, especially traffic, (have I mentioned on how much I love traffic?) that I ponder about what I have done in life and mostly, what I haven’t done in life. I started studying once again, but where that is going I cannot say. I would be thrilled to leave to wherever to read for my Masters but that brings me to the question of if I would want to be away from the country again because of both personal and career reasons. Work is going great noh, why should I leave that now? But wait, wasn’t that exactly what my lecturers back in uni warned me of?
Trying to be an adult.
Endless rants and blog posts of things we want to do, objectives we want to fulfil but for most of the part, remain undone.
It is in this context do I remember Cristian Mihai. One of my all-time favourite bloggers, I am yet to read one of his novels yes, but his posts just take the words right out of my mouth. I dislike that use of phrase (my gutter mind agrees on this too) but that is exactly what it feels like. He is of the same age I believe, and while I take solace in the fact that crazy bizarre ideas that occur while brushing my teeth are universal, my inability to make these words (as) universal, maybe because I am caught up with other work or perhaps my inability to write as he does, yet feel exactly what he does and being unable to articulate it thus, often cripples me. Or makes me near-Bran-cripply.
But then, I’m not too sure.
a) Do I Google myself a metre of achievement slash accomplishment and see if I fit the bill?
b) Yet, by whose standards?
c) Definitely not what our good lady Austen advocated for I’m sure.
d) If there is no measure and if we are all differently-gifted or a ‘different kind of smart’ should we build our own gauge here?
e) If so, who else would be in that gauge but me?
Confoosed. Google has no answers and neither does this man I am a fan of.