Don't know what it is, the weather, the winter, maybe brexit, maybe just my personal circumstance? But it feels like it's going to shits over here. Over here I mean UK.
I have to admit that recently I've had more and more niggles at the back of my brain to pack up and ship off to some place less old and deranged. (I used to like both of these qualities of the place)
However, all these feelings might be simply based on my struggles to finish my PPL due to weather, broken planes, ill instructors and overall feeling that the school I've chosen, and with massive effort and expense got through all the way up to the last step to take, is about to be swallowed by the grass below it, never to be heard of or looked for again. Piss is being taken, whether because they are incompetent or in trouble is yet to be confirmed and until then I'm to remain nervous about how much more shit to brace for or whether possibly for a total disaster. This being amplified by spending a weekend with a finally great flying weather on the ground.
Maybe it's all because my job that I love, but have been doing for a company that is not going anywhere but up a wall, again and again and I've been telling my self for the past six months to stay, no matter how hard it gets, at least till the PPL is done in the sake of financial stability.  And the PPL would not bloody happen and another year with them's been started. And in two days I'll sit yet another personal development review*, listening to heaps of codswallop from Buckinghamshire's 'any conversation has a winner and a looser' debate champion and his halfwit minion that is well know for saying a lot eehms and empty/dumb sentences very loudly and repeatedly.
Yes, I'm angry. Mostly at my self really;
- the PPL could have been better planned (not sure how, but a reflection is never a bad thing). I could be much stronger with the school and maybe, just maybe, it would have a positive effect. Or the opposite. I'll never know I think, I just feel like pinching them up a bit might make the building go down. Or is it that I just find it hard to fend for my self? This doubt I think is the source of the anger on this one. Apart for the fact that it's been dragging a bit. (which is the case but knowing my self, I might be worrying needlessly.)
- work? I told my self in April that in September's *PDR I'll get what I'm due salary-wise and that the Edinburgh job will have to come out of review to have made a profit, or I'm off.
The September PDR didn't happen because shit was up. Some people quit, some were sacked and it seamed bleak for a bit. The post project reviewed showed shit profit, mostly by fuckups of my boss (the minion) .. and eventually completely ruined by snags coming back after a half a year. If it was the first time that this same snag came back and not after we piled up a load of bullshit on the clients head that it's going to be fine this time because we know what we are doing. (this is a sit-wrap, there's more, but at least this I should remember fro this chapter to make sense.)
So what angers me, apart for not having fucked off yet, is that coming back from the Christmas holiday I found my self full of hope and somewhat yearning to work ever harder and push through. Which is really nice, to have this energy and will to fight on despite odds, but in this case it's really just working against me.
Having a strong infantry is great, but they need to be deployed effectively. And as much as I like playing the trooper, soldiering ever onwards, I'll have to play the general for a bit and reassess my allegiance, regroup and re-deploy. All very coldly in a calculated manner.
This sense however, that not all might be lost and this will to overcome has in the meanwhile woven a couple of ideas in my mind. The kind of little hopes and fears one instils in the mind of little ones to carry them through the worst, the kind of ideas that will afterwards easily be forgotten. Replaced by the memories of feats in the battle past.
The fears; Breaking hearts again, leaving after so much history, without explanation as the explanation is far from comprehensible outside my mind (yes, partly because I'm so much smarter then everyone (...no) and because I have a very complicated personality, which due to it's demand for constant thinking might be making me appear thoughtful or focused or confused). This sense of senselessness only heightened by the fact that I stayed with them through the worse. Flipping out, cursing and moaning, but persevering, I might have made them feel like there must be something else, more, that's making me stay.
The hopes: I asked my self one day, when far removed from the reality of the whole circus, what would have to happen so that I'd stay. So that I'd go back on my Septembers decision to sod off.
And I gave my self an answer and have subconsciously been looking for the signs of it actually happening ever since. Like the little monkey I am. The condition, I was hoping, would be far-fetched enough not to give them the chance to sway me; give me the department and give me the deserved pay rise plus the previous one and promise me again that they'll get me trained, this time with a date on the promise so I can flip the second it's due.
And in two days I'll see what they have come up with. The way of the world is that if you want something, you have to ask for it. And I'm not going to do that. I'd only consider it if it came from the other side. (which would be why my love calendar is so bleak :D) This, from my point of view, is the way forward and they must know it. This is what I went in with. And I fought and endured enough.
Though, the necessary breaking off from the comradery since gained hangs heavily on my hearth. When in September I realised that I'll be scarifying my peace in heart by carrying on for a bit longer I had no idea what I was headed for.
And this leads us to the last but not least focal point of my anger; I despise and pity my self for being weak. Been born with talent, health, wonderful childhood, stimulating environment and endowed with powerful body and mind, I aw and crumble under the weight of my vast conciseness. Fucking twat, narcissist defined. I despise and hate my self for being emotional hypocrite, anxious and doubtful. I hate at my self just to hold on and contain, not let a smallest grain of my disappointment and sadness see the light of the world.
I comfort my self  with knowledge that this is what every anger feels like and that it eventually goes. And Is disassembled by a sober thought, identified and handed over to the ministry of love for processing.
At the end of this low, as I decided to call them, is me, me with new poise for life, with new clarity on things, prone to hope and confidence. I would have to see the rest of the future unfurl in front of my eyes before i'd ever accept that he could have ever failed (I'm now sinking as I continue to write what I can't but write) At least in the long run.

So, this is how I imagine the world works. Our image of reality is built on perception of it through our senses and our empathy. We think, oh poor doggy, it's hind legs are limping, because we'd feel really upset if it were us. And ever on, we, not completely un-rightfully assume that that's how every one else alive should probably feel.
I see world of constant struggle for balance. In turmoil of wars for power concealed in the haze of heightened general murmur. A frail web of truth stretched under the weight of all the memories past caught and wrapped, in secure grip, in place where they make sense.

At points it gets difficult. At points it's unbearably wonderful. Can't wait . But em.

Everything learned has a knock-on effect on everything known. From presence to the past and from the past to the future and the older I get the more I have to constantly be reassessing due to new evidence of me found to piece and hold the picture together. Whilst the chapters of the story roll steadily on, leaving me less and less time to live in my worlds. In stead I'm endlessly wandering through the plains of my psyche, reassuring all it's scattered peoples not to hurt so much because all their struggling will have led to something good.


Well, I needed a moan.

I'll write about the last year next time. When i have finished what I've set my self to finish in it. In a better state of mind and on the horse again.
It was a good year, a great one indeed. It deserves a better report. It will have it too.