I’ve closed over 1 million dollars worth of travel this financial year. To put this in perspective, that’s a fuck load of travel.

Reflections of a time far gone. After a day of hard toil, my mind refuses to tame itself and is wild with flashes of the past. I replicate, like I had many times in the past, the ambience of the Royal Booth. A hard and fast time, where self indulgance was hindered by naivity and insecurities. I catch myself thinking “what if” and realise I wouldn’t be at this point if I had’ve. Stop that. But such an intoxicating ambiance. The dynamics at the time were hard to grasp, but now seem to be so unsophisticated and transparant.

Why is it that I have a appetite for the reflections of that time again? The whole time I recall an impatience for things, things that just come by of their own accord. I troubled myself with this consistantly, and never could get my head around that was the nature of it. I could have enjoyed it for what it was, rather than worried about what it could be.

Those times of unity, children of the night, all yearning and striving for something that was never there were something I hold close to my heart. In one instance, it feels like it was the best time of your life, but the details reveal timid and disquieted undercurrents. To those of the booth, I am forever thankful. I think what is so infectious about these reflections is the age old paradox of how you would do it if you knew what you knew today. Stop that and don’t ruin it. It was what it was, enjoy it for tha. It’s only once you step back, stop and realise that, you also realise it’s all over.

These are steps that have led to today, and today is a good day. The future feels so far away and the past equally so. A no mans land where continually I realise I’m well into the future of the past, a future that felt so distant. I have my aspirations now, and the reward of working at them is achieving them. Yes, thats quite a basic approach, but it’s the beauty of the execution of it that facintes me.

Dark Monks - Insane