Keeping a diary

Diaries – nasty things sometimes. Spewing up your deepest darkest fears, hates and despairs; and as much bile that single-lined A4 can contain. I’ve looked back through some of the stuff I wrote back in the day and, Jeez, what a difference a fair few years make. Okay, I may have been an angst-ridden teenager or directionless student but there was a lot of strange thinking in those days. But it’s brilliant now being able to look and laugh at all that stuff. Absolutely brilliant.

Then there are the “must do, must, must do” lists I put together as a “grown up” to shape my world, sometimes ambitious, sometimes pithy. Either way, it was all about making myself a “better person”. Well, I’ve managed to dig up some of these lists as well from the early part of the decade and it’s kind of reassuring that I’m still talking about some of the same kind of nonsense. Getting fluent in Ecuadorian Spanish, developing multi-billion dollar streams of passive income, taking up Kung Fu – you know the score. Well, the way I see it, I’m still doing the rounds on this. Which is cool. Some will come to something and some to come to nothing. But I've got something to shoot for. I’m still in the game. And I’ll keep writing my lists.