Firsts in 2009

I'm writing for the first time in 2009. Auspicious.

Currently I'm sitting at my laptop on India, doing pretty much exactly the same things that I'd be doing in NZ, my home country. And that disturbs me. Its not so much the homogeneity of existence which troubles me; its more so the recognition of the constant that is me. I can say to some extent now that I have had at least some share of my travelling done. It was grand. However at the same time, I can't help but feel how dull it also was. Let me explain...for I know a few people who'll read this and simply laugh it off as plain old pessimism - let me assure you, that is not the case.

It's not that I did not enjoy myself, or that I didn't do all the stupid things which qualify one later on as experienced. It's more so the consistent nagging of reality even whilst travelling which drips like tap drops onto your forehead unintermittentaly that I refer to. The tap drops, like gentle torture, keep you in check of the simple fact that 'you exist'. Perhaps this is all because of the rather futile endeavour of seeking authenticity - primitive roots - in another community that one feels disappointed. But even grander than that I feel is another reason. As a tourist, scopophilia becomes so suffocatingly dense in your eyes you begin to feel your very benign existence. And one could argue that this is precisely the very thing one travels to get away from.

But I've found that this is the very joy of travelling. One should, before embarking, get their expectations straight. I have learnt now that I will always travel with myself, no matter how many other people are around me to drown out white noises. Man this is so wanky. In the end, in simple terms, what I'm trying to say is: I love travelling, I aim to do a whole lot more further on this year . . . its just more fun, and life changing, if you get your expectations straight.