Every essay I ever have the intention of completing always seems like some kind of contingency before I actually get it finished. I've given up with physical 'to-do' lists as my theoretical and mentally contained list of activities I have yet to complete seems to be not only eternal but consistently shape-shifting like a Ditto that I'm never going to catch in a Pokeball.
The passport was created in Britain with the intention of allowing any British holder to go wherever they chose without objection. Whilst the country still maintains the arrogance to think it's top dog, my intentions of working in America this summer are consistently impeded by Visas, social security, work insurance and generally this notion I appear to get as a traveller that unless I'm desiring to further spoil any of the Spanish/Greek isles or go somewhere in the common wealth then I'm generally not welcome.
As you can tell, my current ability to feel drastically sorry for myself is still in vivacious motion.
Thursday, 4 February 2010
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