Get ready to laugh, because I’m about to mention the word “career”. I’m not saying I regret not being a working stiff from the age of sixteen (although I think I am), but if I’d turned up for my work experience placement at Asda then imagine where I might be by now? I’d be able to fill the Citroen C5 boot up with Quaker rolled oats, reduced-fat mayonnaise, Onken Raspberry yogurts, and a whole heap of other codswallop every night, and all for free. The thing is though, I’d still be asking myself the same question, more or less, if I was a Regional Manager in an office equipped with window and mahogany desk: What if I HADN’T turned up for my work experience placement. What then?
It’s all about perspective. You wouldn’t know either way and you can’t settle for anything else other than what you have because the option simply isn’t available to you. It does help to be aware of what path you’re on. You can be on the wide path for forty years and not even know it. External events and internal hang ups can ostracise you from your perception of whatever “the loop” might be for life. The important thing is to either change your direction or lie in the bed you make.
One’s own random writing can be cringeworthy at times (although spitting it raw with no care for self-censorship can, frankly, be disturbing). Because it loses its truth over time. It can lose its meaning the next day. The spirit’s utmost belief one month can be a ton of cow dung the next. A matter of the heart one year can be a matter of pub gossip the next. Words can overcomplicate. They’ll never make up for actions (although they go a great way in explaining them).
We are all works in progress, for the most part, every single day. As wavering as the wind; as fickle as fog. Tumbling our way over pitfalls, setbacks, turnpikes, and greasy rungs; many of our own making. But the cream rises.
If you’re fortunate, someone will see yours.