two lessons and two failures

it's not the destination, it's the journey

especially when one's destination is nowhere to be found,
and one means to go north but that is about it.
yet still manages to go north about 50km each day,

also when one has so little money that,
at night, one wonders what the fuck one's doing in a cold
empty national park with a secondhanded sleeping bag

last but not least when one is stuck in a small caravan park
which is an hour away from any meaningful town that has a bus
so one's forced to look at stars and start drinking dry sherry

failing, learning, realizing, finding, and parting away