The good, the bad and the dingo ugly.

Methinks...

something is missing, as I make my way to Nova Scotia. 


It's been FAR too long since I did something for others. 


Feeling too full of myself, and resting on my laurels.


What fuckin' laurels? 

My Laurel and Hardy's, maybe.


I'm a joke at the moment. 

It's been a long hard road this trip...

tough going with a great number of disappointments...a lot of miles covered, with not much to show...

a great many unsuccessful attempts to get some solid things happening...(close...but not quite)


But that doesn't give me the right to be a prick.

I have lost traction, and am falling behind in my goals, aspirations, obligations and tasks as I travel.

These things take time when you follow your dreams.

One step forward...three steps back, with a rolled ankle to be going on with. 


Dispatches from home tell me there's an ugly storm brewing for me to deal with...

& I have a couple of worrying lumps on my right nut.

This has darkened my mood a bit.


But my overblown and bloated sense of self seems to be turning me into an indulgent, short tempered- and maybe even a little 'entitled'- piece of shit. 

I'm entitled to a fat lip, is what I'm entitled to.


When did I lose my way?

How far back??


I actually almost got my nose out of joint this morning because I couldn't get a toasted cheese sandwich on the train. 

SFW. 

The planet doesn't bow and curtsey to my every whim and desire.

(not my best moment, sure- but VERY luckily I pulled the iron out of the fire and turned it into a bit of a piss take.

& because I was an Aussie they bought it...and order was restored- the good humour maintained. 

but still...) 


Yikes. 


Yes...this is who's blog you are following. 


The good, the bad and the decidedly ugly.

Ugly as a busted arsehole.


Who the fuck do I think I am? 

Not who I want to be, that's for sure. 

I don't know exactly where I'm going, ultimately, as my plans and hopes fall by the tracks like the refuse in 'Emperor of the North'...

but right now? 


This is NOT where I want to be.

I'm getting soft...crouched in these trains looking out the window like some kind of cut rate King Faruk. 

Expecting the help to bring me my well-being on a friggin' tray. 

Fuck that.


I've lost track of my work a bit, as well. 

I think I need working on. 


If it's broken...fix it. 

& it IS broken. 

Tomorrow? 

Look into something charitable in the local area. 

& get some writing done again.



Yesiree Bob. 


If I died in my sleep from cancer of the balls tonight??

I can't say I am proud. 


I need to straighten up, and fly right.

Or at least, train the main line no longer in vain, for as long as I'm on the tracks.


I can't let this happen again...

No blood on these tracks. 
  

'the price of liberty is eternal vigilance.'


NOT infernal petulance.