me hace falta escribir

the only thing that i don’t like about this day is that I haven’t written more. what can I say? it’s been pretty goddam close to perfect. work was french toast and strong coffee and good weather in the streets and cafes of centro.

afterwards was the climbing gym with sweat and powder and shouts and cheers. i met a fine british biologist who drove me home. we’re going out tomorrow night.

i got home around 9:30 and decided to go out in search of a little food before bed. i wandered more or less haplessly with no real rhyme, reason or intent. then i heard music. in a little callejón al lado del parque de santa ana was a lone violinist covering rock songs. about eight people sat in table and chairs surrounding with their food and drinks. i joined, sipped on indio, ate a decent burger and listened to a violin cover of do i wanna know .

in another reality, in the universe where i didn’t buy the plane ticket i am sitting in my apartment in dickass louisiana eating fast food alone. i was unhappy in that reality. i am no longer in that reality.

i definitely don’t deserve this life, but goddamn am i enjoying it.






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