This is an excerpt from Ishmael by Daniel Quinn, a novel of socratic dialogue between a man and a gorilla named Ishmael, about man's struggle of conquering the Earth and its potential consequences in doing so. But this quote has some personal meaning, as I look into this summer.
I hereby pick up where I left off last summer after trekking through the savannah and rainforests of Oz and the backcountry of Glacier Park, hopefully with less drunken rants.
There's no Bundaberg in the States; I'm still having withdrawals.
I'm now a senior. And I know I'm not the only one with the future on my mind. It's graduation at the university, and countless classmates, friends and people I have never met are leaving the confines of the learning institution we call college. Onwards to some unknown adventure or planned career. Some have gained tools for tomorrow, and others, I'm not sure how they managed to walk this afternoon and earn a diploma.
But who am I to talk? I still have another year to survive.
I completed the most difficult year of school. Not because of the intensity of the work load. It was a constant battle between motivation and apathy; the will to get the degree or ditching life in Missoula for some metaphysical odyssey. But I'm glad I made it. This semester reminded me of why I am here, and I'm on my way to becoming a journalist, for reasons I'm not quite sure.
I don't want to work for a daily, a weekly, radio or television broadcast. I don't want to write about politics, the environment, city council or culture all the time; only sometimes. I don't want to corrupt or lose myself in the system, but I want to be successful. Some days I love this town, others I wish I will never set sight on it again.
It's a recipe for a fence-sitter.
and I'll have to deal with it.
I leave Tuesday for West Glacier with nothing but pockets of unanswered questions. Who and what will I meet? Where will I live? Holy shit I'm not packed or have my supplies: will I get that done in time? What will I be doing? What happens if I'm being stalked by a cougar or am face to face with a Grizzly?
I'm not ready. I haven't done anything but stress and study and write and pass and fail, drink and be awkward. I am not in shape or know what poisonous plants, unpredictable weather or hungry animal I'll encounter. And for some reason I don't care. I don't want to know until it happens.
I'm currently finishing my last weekend working the job I've had since I was 15. I will no longer be cursing every mall walker, teenie bopper, obnoxious employee from down the corridor who walks in and looks at the TV in the floor and say "WOW-WEE! look at that TV in the ground," or order energy drinks or ask me why I don't have American Football playing on the plasma screen. I will not have to eat Subway, Noodle Express or Hoagieville or sit inside this shop when the sun is shining outside, and all I have are fluorescent lights sapping my soul and blinding my eyes.
I am now an editor at the school newspaper and a U.S. Geologic Survey intern.
This is where I'll be writing my thoughts, my opinions, my rants about where I'll be this summer. A summer of hiking miles and miles, observing plants, animals and nature of one of the most pristine parks in the world, and it's in my backyard.
This is my intro with sappy words and no interesting content, so here's a photo that's nice to look at.
cheers,
beaz_
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