What’s Next

I’m always trying to improve my vocabulary, and failing miserably. So, I’ve taken up the task of learning new words. The type of words I can use in my everyday speech. I’m going to sprinkle in a few of these lovely gems in conversation the next time I’m in the Cowboy Up, a local watering hole that is known for its cold beer, bad music, and mean women. If you don’t hear from me for any length of time, it’s probably because I’ve regaled the regulars that frequent that fine establishment in such an awe inspiring manner that they’ve pitched in and put me up in a private room for a few days.

Before I try out my newly found vocabulary on strangers, though, I’d like to splash a few of the words I’ve come across into a discussion on my future, and see what my friends (you)  think of them. So, here it goes.

It’s about time for me to peregrinate. As a matter of fact, it’s probably beyond time. It seems that wanderlust has set in. I feel trapped and my eleutheromania keeps knocking on the door, and it might be time to turn it loose into the world again. That sounds real bad, doesn’t it? There is a cure, though. The answer is that I should go in search of smultrostalle. That should do the trick.

I don’t think I’m out of line in saying that strikhedonia is something that I’ve been afflicted with for quite some time. But, more times than I am willing to share I’ve been overcome with yugen. There’s a cure for that, too. I just up and coddiwomple to my next home.

I’ve been solivagant for a long time now. Searching for another hodophile is challenging, though. I know they’re out there, but too often resfeber overtakes them. Then I find out they’re a nemopnilist, and that we really don’t see eye to eye on our next destination, even though we are both afflicted with eleutheromania.

I don’t know about you, but I think the fernweh deep down inside me keeps me young at heart. I suppose I’m what you’d call a cosmopolitan man. Providing, of course, I don’t land in some overcrowded city, or get too deep into the woods.