Is it trite to say that every day is in itself a journey; or, is it just a tautology. A day trip is a day trip, but what were trips to be taken in a day. What do I do in a day–to day or not to day, what is the journey taken?
All is in the journeying, as I have said, will say again. Life–no, living–is not a destination. Most journeys were several days. What does this mean? How was it a day trip if it took several days? This was a voyage? Journeys were those that took a day or most of day, what we complete by car or train in a few hours?
Yes, what we could make in a few hours by train was a whole day excursion how long ago. I set my sites on the destination, but it is the journey, as we say, life the journey; death the destination. Who wants to be dead? Arriving is the killing of the journey, no? How do we solve this problem of traveling and arriving? Somewhat how we manage to be and to become; being and becoming are mutual yet exclusive, contingent yet separate, categorically distinct.
The Falling Leaf Review 