All Around The World

I want to travel the world, and my dreams are evidence of this.

Last night, I dreamed I was in London; I was visiting Corey O'Connell and she showed me all of her favorite pubs. Two nights ago, I dreamed I was in Australia; I was hanging around Sydney and then rode in kangaroo pouches across the outback with Sally Chai. All outlandish scenarios aside, I think my subconscious is trying to tell me to make my dreams a reality.

Italy, Australia, London, France, Japan. Even California. There's quite a few places I really want to go on vacation to, and I'm sure I'll find various people to join me on such trips. But even if I have to go on some solo adventures, so be it. I just need to make this happen.

Bicycle

Bicycling used to be one of my favorite hobbies, but I haven't really gone bike riding since my earlier high school years. The main reason for that is because I've outgrown my old bike and, hence, really need a new one. But I've been lazy and never got around to getting one, which is a shame because I live so close to Colts Neck and I always loved riding my bike there. It's all open farmland and parks (and occasional mansions). It always made me feel like I was in another world where I could have some peace and tranquility.

While driving home from work today, I noticed how nice of a day it was and started wishing I could go for a bike ride. As soon as I got home, I went to my backyard and, much to my surprise, saw my dad's old bike laying on the side of the shed. It was very dirty and rusty, but I was desperate so I sprayed the bike with a hose and WD-40'ed the hell out of it. And then I was on my way!

It didn't take me long to realize how horribly out of shape I've been, but I kept at it and ended up going to my favorite spot - Dorbrook Park in Colts Neck. The park has a paved bike trail but I usually take the dirt trails that zip through the woods. The entrance to my favorite dirt trail is pretty secluded and eventually leads to a giant reservoir. I've always considered that area to be "my secret spot," where I could go to enjoy the scenery and clear my head as any angsty teenager would do. Riding my bike to this spot today was a real trip down memory lane.

After biking through Dorbrook Park for an hour or so, I continued down Route 537 to check out Laird's Distillery, the oldest Distillery in America. Some of you may know Laird's as the producer of Applejack, a type of apple brandy I once enjoyed drinking (until it got me sick) but now consider a last resort that I'll only take shots of when I'm already extremely drunk. There wasn't much to see there other than some old buildings and a factory. Across the street, however, there was a gigantic field of apple trees that was blocked off by a fence and a "no trespassing" sign.

So, naturally, I plotted to steal some apples (even though I don't even eat apples).

I left my bike on side of the road opposite the field, ran across the street, hopped the fence, ran towards the closest apple tree I could find, and grabbed a few apples. Then I turned around. There was someone behind me in the distance. Fuck.

Without any hesitation, I started to run away while holding a handful of apples. I looked behind me as I ran, and noticed that the guy working in the field didn't see me yet. The only thing between me and my clean getaway was the fence, which I easily cleared on my way in. I continued my mad dash back to my bike by hopping the fence.

But I didn't clear the fence.

Instead, in typical and clumsy Keith fashion, I ended up falling and breaking the entire fence. Oops.

I quickly picked myself up off of the collapsed fence as I heard someone shout, "hey you!" I darted across the street as fast as I could and jumped on my bike. It was at that point that I noticed my right leg was gushing blood. There was a trail of blood across the street, leading from the broken fence to my bike, and apples scattered everywhere. Unfortunately I didn't have a lot of time to stare at my leg and wonder what I'd do with it, so instead I biked away from the Distillery, leaving the dropped apples and the broken fence behind. When I got far enough from the scene of the incident, I took off my white t-shirt and wrapped it around my bleeding leg.

Even though my leg was in pain, the whole incident was really hysterical. It's good to know I can have little adventures by myself every once in a while.

Constants Are Changing

"Stability is a farcical figment of our imaginations; it really is laughable, the way we create and destroy ideas of certainty on whims stemming from the abstract, masked as the concrete. True certainty doesn't exist, no matter how much we want it to exist." - Corey O'Connell

We all strive for something to rely on. A constant, if you will. And we perpetially need reassurance that these constants in our life, whether it be friends, family, relationships, places, or jobs, truly are as stable as we imagine them to be. We need certainty.

My friend Corey raises a valid point in suggesting that absolute certainty doesn't exist. We can never get all of the evidence or assurance we're looking for.

Famous philosopher Descartes once said, "I think, therefore I am," meaning that our concept of what is real and certain manifests from our own internal thoughts (or perhaps he is simply suggesting that we know we exist because we think; but let's assume otherwise for conversation's sake). But if certainty/stability can mentally be destroyed as easily as it is created, it's obviously not stable. So how can you really be certain about anything without second guessing yourself? Speaking from my own experience, my overactive mind often jumps to conclusions that dismiss certainty. "I think, therefore I may or may not be" seems more appropriate.

With the opportunities life has been throwing at me lately, my constants might soon change. Hopefully not all of them, but some of them. It's disheartening to think about, but sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone. I'd say I'm certain of this, but I suppose you can never really be certain.

Although I agree with the idea that absolute certainty does not exist, you have to admit that the statement basically contradicts itself. How can you be absolutely certain that absolute certainty doesn't exist?

Summerdata

When I permanently moved back home from college, I tore the pages out of my stress journal that I had for a previous class and redesignated it as my summer journal. As the summer progressed, I wrote brief notes in my journal about how I spent each day. I didn't bother to write about my job search or concerns of living at home because the journal was no longer a stress journal; I instead focused on documenting all the memories I've shared with my friends and family over the last few months. Now that the summer is over, I can look back in my journal and instantly be reminded of how eventful my summer was and how truly thankful I am for every single person in my life.

So long, summer! It's been real.