Day 1: Night

The date at the top of so many plans; documents; ideas and emails. A date, which for so long has seemed all so far away: th edate which I am to embark on hopefully, some kind of adventure.

I'm actually writing this the night before I depart. It's getting quite late; I can't recall the time, and I've just spent countles minutes, or herhaps hours checking my bag; packing one more random item; ensuring my weed is fully sealed; counting my (lack of) money; running through the cost of living in my head; worrying; being excited .etc .etc Argh, my mind is overloading with thoughts at the precise time where I seriously need it to stfu and close down.

A bit cliche perhaps, but my mind is split in two. One side of me is absolutely fucking petrified - I'm about to throw myself into a foreign country, where I only know a minute fraction of the lnaguage; know nobody; have nowhere to stay; have 130GBP to last me 45 days and haven't really planned out too much. I mean, I've spent 4 or so nights pretty much glued to the computer, but I got a bit lazy and procrastinated: instead of doing lots of preparations and research, I opted to play poker, chat to friends .etc In all fairness though, the printer at home didn't work, so that kind of put me off researching - if I can't print it, i can only view it online, and if I'm online, wy the fuck would I ever be reading my own rushed, paraphrased notes?!?

I'm tempted to get going now, but as I look to the left, to my bed, all I see is a bed full of shit: clothes which didn't make the cut, 3 mega drive controllers which i was meant to sell to someone (evidence for my will incase i never make it), 2 wallets, a postal order for 7gbp which I can't be bothered to cash in, a briefcase, books, some hats, hole puncher .etc .etc .etc Ugh, i better stop before I bore you, or me when I'm re-reading this when I'm stranded and bored in Poland.

Which reminds me, I never ellaborated on the 2nd part - pretty nilhistic/pessimistic of me (I have a feeeling nilhistic isn't in the right context here but fuck it.)

Basically, earlier, when I was looking on the couchsurfing website, I realised this trip has the possibility of being one of a lifetime, which 99% of others will never (have the balls to) experience. If all goes to plan, I'll be hopping from hostel to hostel, or couchsurfing my way around and hitchhiking. I was thinking of trekking into Czech Republic or even Austria, Hungary or Bulgaria, but now I'm not too sure because I'm on such a small budget. I might not have enough to venture too far as I have booked a flight home for the 18th December. Lol. Too far out means I could never get back in time, which ultimately means I'll be strended.

Ugh, my pessimism creeps back. Fuck it, I must sleep - hopefully I'll dream happy thoughts - and live them.

Day 2: Morning

Woke up; showered; got dressed... Psh, sounds like another day at work. Thank fuck it's not. The coach leaves in 2 hours or so and I'm relying on a lift from my parents to the coach stop, who aren't here yet, so I've resorted to a little bit of musing to pass the time. I know I have plenty of time until the coach leaves for the airport, but I can't stop worrying that they're going to be late: they always are, seriously. Before finding this escape, I found myself running around the house constantly; checking my backpack numerous times; checking fight times; ensuring i have my passport, etc, etc. I need to calm down and chill the fuck out. The snow still blankets the gardens outside, it's a beautiful scene, and rather unusual for October: maybe it's a little symbolical. Perhaps telling me that only desolence and coldness remains here in Luton and I need to leave, or perhaps nature is warning me not to go outside, but to stay at home in safety. Regardless of superstitional bullshit though, it's a fitting contrast to what my mind is feeling like: maybe I should strip naked and lay down in it for a while to cool down and relax.

The thought of quitting this voyage brushed my mind for a split second, but I instantly laughed it off: I'd never damage my pride so bad, and I'd hate to eternally live in regret, wondering what 'could' have happened. I think decisions like this seperate the Caesars from the Centurions, and I'd rather create my fate than to let it create me. I'm about to cross my Rubicon and I have absolutely no idea what awaits me. I've spent my life being lazy, progressing slowly through the education system, sitting around and doing nothing. I think I finally know what it feels like to be alive: to be free, and it's a feeling which seems very hard to shake off...

Day 2: Night

Au revoir Britannia!
Currently flying a few hundred/thousand miles above England; a mere pattern of hazy orange lights. It's strange how such a complex and diverse nation looks so simple from up here, it just appears to be a mere connected system of cells and nerves; towns and transport links. When putting into this context, I'm glad to be leaving, as it has always been a fear of mine to become a cog in a grandiose system - I feel my life has more purpose than to be a stream of electrons in a sea of orange. I love chaos and spontaenity (sp?).

Looks like we're flying out of home now, well, I can't really say "we" as it appears 95% of the people in the plane with me are Polish. Something slightly intimidating because it's probably the first time in my life where I've been completely surrounded by people talking in another language, and instinctively it feels like everybody is talking about me. But it's something I need to get used to, I can't expect everybody in my presence to speak English: it's not 1850 any more, and it'd be highly hypocritical of me to complain when I'm an armchair advocate of preserving communities and cultures from around the world in the face of a globalised society.

I'm glad I'm feeling relatively calm about the situation, I guess the overpriced cup of tea I've been sipping is partially responsible, but not as much as paying 10p/minute for internet access back at Back in the airport. I managed to check couchsurfing and have hopefully secured myself some accomodation. Though calmness aside, I had to fork out 20gbp for baggage and some checkin bollocks. Ironically, the baggage and checkin cost twice as much as the flight itself. This brings my total warfund down to 110gbp, roughly 440zloty (zł), maybe 200gbp extra in the bank. Not too sure whether it's going to be enough for more than a months worth of living expenses, but I'll make it: I always do...

so what happend?

yeah, inquiring minds want to know man.

OP are you....

dead?

he has been posting in SG recently, so i dont think he is dead. unless.....zombie

Day 2: Part 1

Woke up; showered; got dressed... Psh, sounds like another day at work. Thank fuck it's not. The coach leaves in 2 hours or so and I'm relying on a lift from my parents to the coach stop, who aren't here yet, so I've resorted to a little bit of musing to pass the time. I know I have plenty of time until the coach leaves for the airport, but I can't stop worrying that they're going to be late: they always are, seriously. Before finding this escape, I found myself running around the house constantly; checking my backpack numerous times; checking fight times; ensuring i have my passport, etc, etc. I need to calm down and chill the fuck out. The snow still blankets the gardens outside, it's a beautiful scene, and rather unusual for October: maybe it's a little symbolical. Perhaps telling me that only desolence and coldness remains here in Luton and I need to leave, or perhaps nature is warning me not to go outside, but to stay at home in safety. Regardless of superstitional bullshit though, it's a fitting contrast to what my mind is feeling like: maybe I should strip naked and lay down in it for a while to cool down and relax.

The thought of quitting this voyage brushed my mind for a split second, but I instantly laughed it off: I'd never damage my pride so bad, and I'd hate to eternally live in regret, wondering what 'could' have happened. I think decisions like this seperate the Caesars from the Centurions, and I'd rather create my fate than to let it create me. I'm about to cross my Rubicon and I have absolutely no idea what awaits me. I've spent my life being lazy, progressing slowly through the education system, sitting around and doing nothing. I think I finally know what it feels like to be alive: to be free, and it's a feeling which seems very hard to shake off...

OP you write very well.

but you should of gone on your adventure

Day 2: Night

Au revoir Britannia!
Currently flying a few hundred/thousand miles above England; a mere pattern of hazy orange lights. It's strange how such a complex and diverse nation looks so simple from up here, it just appears to be a mere connected system of cells and nerves; towns and transport links. When putting into this context, I'm glad to be leaving, as it has always been a fear of mine to become a cog in a grandiose system - I feel my life has more purpose than to be a stream of electrons in a sea of orange. I love chaos and spontaenity (sp?).

Looks like we're flying out of home now, well, I can't really say "we" as it appears 95% of the people in the plane with me are Polish. Something slightly intimidating because it's probably the first time in my life where I've been completely surrounded by people talking in another language, and instinctively it feels like everybody is talking about me. But it's something I need to get used to, I can't expect everybody in my presence to speak English: it's not 1850 any more, and it'd be highly hypocritical of me to complain when I'm an armchair advocate of preserving communities and cultures from around the world in the face of a globalised society.

I'm glad I'm feeling relatively calm about the situation, I guess the overpriced cup of tea I've been sipping is partially responsible, but not as much as paying 10p/minute for internet access back at Back in the airport. I managed to check couchsurfing and have hopefully secured myself some accomodation. Though calmness aside, I had to fork out 20gbp for baggage and some checkin bollocks. Ironically, the baggage and checkin cost twice as much as the flight itself. This brings my total warfund down to 110gbp, roughly 440zloty (zł), maybe 200gbp extra in the bank. Not too sure whether it's going to be enough for more than a months worth of living expenses, but I'll make it: I always do...

Too bad I didn't know another totsean was travelling in Eastern Europe same time as me - I fucking loved Poland, quality goods paid for in zloty = mad deals...Where you at dawg, Krakow or Warsaw?

Had a stint in Krakow, but now in Katowice....