Written by Dr Jon
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Tags: travel

Sunday, 17 July 2011

image for I Don't Feel it's Time for Me to Stop Travelling, You Know? Let me tell you my philosophy on life.

Hey there!

I was sitting around the other day, at my parents, rolling a fat one, and I just thought to myself - "I'm not just not ready to stop travelling yet, I think I'll head off to Asia or the Pacific or something."

I was comparing the life I had last year, when I was backpacking around Egypt to the one I have now, you know, trying to find a job, get a bond together to move out of my parents, and I'm thinking - it's almost as if continually hitch-hiking around the globe is some kind of holiday or something, and the other stuff- we'll, it's a bit like hard work.

I'm not complaining, right, but it's been like this all my life. Everyone told me University was meant to be a laugh, but to be honest, I got there and it was all "do this, do that, sit an exam." Jesus.

I mean, shit, I'd only had a year off in Thailand to prepare myself for that crap. It's no wonder I tanked at the first place. Or the next three, to be honest. And one of those was even a Media Studies degree, not that that was any less of a downer!

I gave it up in the end, they so didn't understand where I'm coming from. I had to spend a whole two years in Australia to recover from that bummer.

And that "job" shit. Jesus Christ, what's that about? If you're not getting sacked for having Facebook up, you're getting chewed out for using your own iPhone. Yeah, "on work's time" but it was my iPhone. And what the fuck is with thirty days off a year? Thirty fucking days? What is this, Nazi Germany? And I don't count bank holidays, because no-one fucking works bank holidays. Well, yes, maybe nurses do, but, basically, they have to, and I don't see why I should.

And all the time I'm just thinking "what about that cool time I had sitting on that beach in Gambia?", or "it was totally great hopping from bar to bar on those Greek Islands" or "I want to go skiing."

So, anyway, I think the best thing, the best thing for all of us, is if I get myself off to Goa and we forget all this talk of "planning for the future", "supporting myself" or "contributing."

I can always live off my savings, well, I say savings, I mean stuff I borrow, mooch and people give me, and I'll always have someone else's home to come back to.

It's like my dear old father says when I tell him that I need yet more money because I haven't found myself yet,

"Son, you're a lazy, spoilt, selfish little pissant who I genuinely worry needs someone to wipe his arse for him."

"But if it's giving you money that gets you out of my line of fucking sight, you little tit, here you go."

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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