It’s the fourth day of being officially “funemployed”, and while the game plan really is to carve a cozy little niche in my bed for two weeks to a month and watch DVD’s in the intervals between carbonite freezings, I’ve decided to start my bum-days with a more structured regimen. Like for example, writing a 500-word composition daily to brush up on my writing. Earlier, I did a 45-minute run. I’ve just finished cooking breakfast for everyone; tortang talong, and, modesty aside one of the best dishes I could cook.
I started this blog—TheCityTrekker—to write about the excitement of living in the city, of pursuing dreams, to take note of the nooks and crannies that hold secret treasures for that every now and then jolt the late 20-something from yuppie-zombiefication and generally to document the good vibes I came across. You must have noticed that I haven’t written anything in over seven months. It was a hell of a year, quite the roller coaster ride. Getting oh so fucking close to getting my fucking life goal, then experiencing the crushing and rather irrevocable results of, well… not. I shall probably fill you in with the details of that along the way. But more or less, if you are 20-something, you’d most likely understand what I’m saying. I’m glad to report that I’m still alive and functioning after that ordeal, and strangely enough, I came across some surprising blessings along the way. To be specific, I met a girl (hereafter referred to as S, or the Stranger) who happened to see something in me when I was at my lowest, darkest point in my life. It’s partly because of her that I’m making an effort to try and place a bit of structure back into my life, and systematically fighting the bad vibes to get back into my feet rather than stick to my plan of living in my bed.
I Googled the word and it turns out that Trek is an Afrikaan word which means “a long, adventurous journey undertaken on foot in areas where common means of transport is generally not available”, and I could not have found a more apt word to describe where I’m at. I have to admit that for the past three years, my life was transfixed on that one goal I was talking about, and part of the reason I stuck to it was because it would pretty much set my life in one direction. Had I attained that goal, I could be one of those arrogant 20-somethings who could say I won’t be feeling lost about my career, that I had attained something quite significant before I reached 30, that the aspects of the rest of my life would flow and follow and start like clockwork. Arrogance, yes. There was an arrogance in knowing I would be more or less, better than everyone. And how I reveled in that knowledge! It was like boarding The Train that would bring me to the heights of greatness and happiness. No more worries of “who I am and who I want to be”, or “what to do”.
“A long, adventurous journey undertaken on foot in areas where common means of transport is generally not available.” You can say that again. Around New Year’s, I received news that not only had I not passed; I was barred from ever pursuing that goal ever again. I felt crushed; not only did I feel like I missed The Train, I felt like it had run me over the way it did poor Anna, hooting and tooting away with three years of my life in tow. In a sense, that was the easy, programmed route. And it’s just not available anymore.
I’d been depressed about that for the longest time, obviously. But now, thinking of that word, trek. I’m walking on foot, finding my way. No compass, nor knowledge of orienteering. No cars or trains or buses to get me there. No easy routes, no easy answers. Trek implies moving forward despite not being guided by an itinerary.
For the most part, it’s what I have to do now. One step forward. Then another step forward. In the English language, trek actually means: “a long arduous journey, typically on foot.” While I do agree that this journey could be arduous, I’d like to prescribe to the Afrikaan definition that says it’s an adventure. An arduous adventure, but an adventure nonetheless. Fuck The Train. I want adventure. Come with me and look for it?
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