Cambios.

I step outside to my balcony and retrieve the sun dried bath mat caked with flecks of vomit from a previous drunken asshole visiting and place it back into my bathroom. I stand there and look at the withered visage of mine staring at me from the spotted rusty mirror - the specks of gray in the hair, the worry lines. I am feeling my age and I decide it is time to move on.

But where? Can't go to San Diego - I have a bounty on my head through no psychosis of my own. Or Tijuana - hunted by viscous and vindictive faggots jealous of my righteous virtue. Los Angeles seems promising but the pain of it still weighs heavy on my heart from phantoms lurking in my past. Miami is closer to my final destination and seems very attractive - as does New Orleans or Pensacola.

Why you ask? I have two reasons. First the petty. Reactions can not exist without an action - setting that old ball in motion. Two nights ago, while getting the shit screwed out of me much to the chagrin of my neighbors who rather not hear that faggoty shit - my laptop was stolen by a wylie and professional miate. Drunkenly escorting him to the corner as dawn crept over the horizon and placing a twenty in his quivering palm, I returned to my flat to find my brand new laptop gone - must've smuggled it under his shirt. He was that good and I was that drunk. I held no anger - only saying ruefully to myself aloud, "You deserved that. You deserved that."

For three months I have resided here in Juarez City and have met one after the other the most lazy money grubbing citizens imaginable. The gay sect is a population of hateful, despicable thieves - conniving with the utmost subtly. It is a city of idiotic pilfering - as if the culture is solely based on how much you can steal from who ever.

Yesterday it put me in a funk - not at losing the laptop per se ( I dutifully returned to the store and purchased another.), but the general basis of people I deal with. Yes, I was upset that my book that I had been writing was on it (A piece that is cursed in itself - my fourth attempt to write the damn thing.) But, I got to thinking of my living situation which comes to reason two.

I am a Traveler - the peacefully sedentary life that you hold dear brings so much agitation and loathing to me. At the moment, I recollect, I am just existing - not living. Nothing is giving me pleasure here - eating, walking, fucking, sitting and having casual conversation with the most uninteresting dull characters imaginable, even the thoughts in my head are uninspired drivel that causes me to sit and write nothing. It is an insidious sickness that I know the cure only so well. I am happy - truly happy moving from one local to the next and experiencing all the nuances that life has to offer on all its intricate and delicious levels. Avoiding those over opinionated losers that state that I should 'settle down and become more stable'. Fuck that and fuck you - it is my life and I live it the way I see fit. I do what I want, say what I want, and go where I want. And if that pisses people off - so what? What are they in the position to do anything about it?

And so, the thoughts have been put into motion - I am taking off. Where at this time I am not certain - though the general direction is Puerto Rico. I have fond memories of the place and would like to visit - after that...who knows?

My life is one long struggle and I have come to accept that - I seem to be more literary inspired in that manner and life is just so much enjoyable. Living in a conformed and simple existence I find so unappealing. Chaos is my fuck buddy, I reckon and it will be till death do us part...