Over the last few days I've been thinking far too much about motivation.
I have absolutely none.
No motivation to succeed beyond this job, which I'm at the top of right now with no further prospects; no motivation to go back to school to get a better job; no motivation to lose the over 60 kilos I carry around daily; no motivation to write.
I think I've posted a couple of times about my desire to save money for a trip to the US next February-March. Why then? Because Chikara's King of Trios is somewhere around that time. And I haven't shared this want to anyone outside of whomever might read this journal, because they'll ask the question why, and I don't really have any reason to apart from KoT 2010. And people will look all puzzled, answer 'oh, okay', and it won't be, because they'll be wondering why the fuck I'd spend money for my first plane ticket ever, let alone out of Australia, plus accomodations and tickets, just to see some stupid wrestling show. And then I wonder if King of Trios as motivation to go to America is enough motivation, like the Great Wall is for going to China, or Stonehenge for going to England, or the Berlin Wall is for going to Germany.
On Saturday night the family were talking about my brother Ryan going to China and then onto England, and my other brother Craig (who has been through Europe) said, "My friend couldn't sit down next to someone in a pub and start up a conversation. And that's kinda the point of it, isn't it?" And everyone else at the table nodded their heads. And I just could not do that. I would be travelling alone, by virtue of having no friends, and as much as I like being alone the fear factor of being a twenty-one (by that point) year old woman alone in Pennsylvania, fifteen thousand kilometres away from home.
|comments: Promo time?|