Voyager...

A friend recently reminded me of an excerpt from Victor Hugo's book, Les Miserables.

"What did he do during the trip?
What was he thinking about?
As in the morning, he looked at the trees, the thatched roofs, the plowed fields, and the diversities of a landscape which every turn in the road changed as he passed. What is more melancholy and more profound than to see a thousand different objects for the first and last time? This is a form of contemplation which sometimes suffices the soul and almost does away with the necessity of thought.

To travel is to be born and to die at every moment!"

I can relate to this last phrase 100%. I feel it to the depths of my soul. Traveling throws me out of whack at any given moment. I lose myself and find myself in every step. The experiences, the laughter and the tears, the beauty and the discomfort, the confusion and the discovery... I love everything about being on the road.

Why?
Because I never know what's going to happen next.
Because the rain tastes differently.
Because even a building in shambles is beautiful.
Because I can never know in what or in whom I will find inspiration.
Because I allow myself to spend half an hour observing the rain drops striking the corner of a rock.
Because the adventure of struggling to communicate with somebody who does not speak my language fascinates me!
Because I eat and drink something new every.single.day!
Because I overtake a police car, while doing 90mph and nobody cares!
Because holding my passport in my hand feels better than holding a trophy.
Because I love seeing photos of far-away places and thinking "I've walked through there!".
Because following a pattern annoys the hell out of me!
Because it always cracks me up seeing people wear their sunglasses inside an airplane.
Because having nowhere to go, means being able to go anywhere!
Because carrying my world on my back is freedom.
Because the road taught me that extreme sadness can be turned into indescribable happiness!
Because a 90 year old man's smile tells more stories than any book I could ever pick up.
Because the more I learn, the more I realize how little I know.
Because admiring the breathtaking photo of a beautiful waterfall cannot compare to bathing in it!

Once you taste freedom, no wealth in the world can replace that feeling.

This is what defines me! This is what makes every cell in my body smile!
Dying... And being born again...

M.

deja-vu?

Visiting my old neighborhood fills me with lots of different feelings. Most of the time they are pleasant, but they can also get saddening, contradictory and even confusing.

Walking in the streets surrounding my old apartment feels wonderful. It's like I never left. I meet my friends and even from the very first hug, it's like we were hanging out just the day before. This does not happen often to me. When I leave a place, it may even take me years to return to it and during that time I change pretty drastically. Facing an old world with new eyes will naturally have an effect on all elements of my old life, including my friends. Not with these people though. These are friends that, for various reasons, are capable of eliminating any time that has gone past in a single smile. I'll elaborate further on them at another opportunity...

The strangest feeling of them all, is me taking a peek into my old self. My "Menelaos in Argentina" self. I have changed in many ways since then, both internally and externally. Back in the day, I'd be dressed like a hippie, being loud and fully energetic, dragging the group from one place to another, flirting endlessly and ending up going home with somebody I had only just met. Now, I just want to enjoy the company of some old friends, have some meaningful chats, catch up and overall enjoy them as the wonderful, individual people that they are, rather than as vibrant parts of a group. Besides, I'm not here for that long, so I need to fill my time with experiences I long for and take a piece of them with me back home.

Every now and then though, while having an interaction with somebody, a big memory-bubble would appear in front of me all cartoon-like, showing me a short clip of how this interaction would have progressed were I still in "Menelaos version 2008" mode. And then, as unexpectedly as it appeared, the bubble would disappear again, smoothly returning me to the present-moment as it actually is. All this in a matter of a split second.
The other person, of course, could not possibly know I had just taken that mini journey into what I can only identify as a potential scenario of how the given situation could progress. But I knew. I had momentarily diverted my concentration from what was going on or what we were talking about, but it was for such a brief moment that I did not look lost in space nor daydreaming.

What was so captivating about it despite its negligible duration is the fact that it was stunningly vivid and almost tangible. I really felt like I was observing a parallel "me" while actually living the current me. To understand what I'm talking about, put yourself in a hypothetical situation where somebody is talking to you but you really don't want to be there. So you escape momentarily through the magical, limitless paths of your imagination, taking the opportunity to picture yourself walking away from this person, leaving them talking by themselves. But then, your mind brings you back to reality and you say "Aw, crap. I'm actually still with this guy...". The difference, of course, is that in my case, I did not provoke this occurrence.

That moment, brief as it may have been, had already managed to fill me with questions. I'm not sure what to make of it. What is this experience trying to tell me? Is it just showing me memories of a remarkable past? Is it bringing suppressed desires to the surface? Is it a sign of how much I've grown and changed? Do I see dead people? Have I had far too much wine? Maybe it was just a glitch in the Matrix...

I think I'll just have some more wine. You know... Just in case it helps me find out. :)

M.

It's time to wake up!

I talked about changes and changes are afoot. It is time to put my sanity (however much I had of it, anyway) back on track and the transformation begins today!

I realized I had lost focus of what I truly want and what truly makes me happy. I have been investing too much time in things that are far from mundane, but not as important as others nonetheless. I have been stressing out over things that, at the end of the day, not only are they at my complete control, but they are also not the bread and butter of what I desire. (I am intentionally keeping this vague. :) ) I even found myself reaching the point of depression at times. And for what? For fear that those elements may cease to exist? This doesn't make any sense at all, since, deep down, I don't even give a shit! That fear is often manifested through the creation of a potential negative scenario in my head that would end up having an outcome that is far from ideal. In other words, I would be afraid of something that may not even ever happen. And the craziest thing is that this is the kind of mentality I've always been advocating against, yet here I am now, having adopted it entirely! What the hell, brain??

I read something recently that reminded me of an old "me".

"Don't look too long or too often into the future. Let the present creep up on you and coldcock¹ you with a tire iron!" (I'm looking at you, W.A.B.!)

This is the "me" I always enjoyed being and that I never voluntarily (or knowingly even) gave up. It is what I have always been preaching, yet somehow I seem to have lost my way and it's not how I've been living my life lately. It could be the fact that I had a pretty tough year until recently, or the fact that I have immersed myself into a new culture that kinda took me by surprise. Whichever the case, it doesn't really matter. What matters is that I have identified the thorn and I'm already working on pulling it out.

As of today, I'll be making sure I hold on tight with both hands to the things I want the most. I'll be putting all my effort into what I want to keep in my life, without forcing anything to be there. Worrying about how something may or may not turn out, is absolutely pointless. I'm starting to remember now what that feels like. It feels really REALLY good!

I'm happy for what I have and for who I am.
I enjoy the factors that shape my life.
I have always tackled anything that came my way and I am perfectly capable of finding my way to the surface, regardless of the conditions.
I have confidence in my ability to make the best of any given situation.
I will never again allow anything to bring me down!

I'm on my way to bringing my old self back. Having some seriously intelligent, insightful, supportive people in my life, who know me at times even more than I know myself, helps immensely. Thank you. You know who you are.

M.

1. "The act of punching or striking someone's face or head so hard, they are knocked out instantly."

Is home really where the heart is?

Waking up in a place I have never laid eyes upon always makes me very happy.

Late last night I landed in Brasilia, the capital of Brazil. Having been in transit since early Saturday afternoon, a process that included spending the whole night at a deserted Miami airport and 3 hours at the lost&found baggage desk of my final destination airport (which limits its function to just "lost", for the time being) it didn't take me long before I gave in to the urge of exploring the inner workings of my couch's covers. (Yes, I'm sleeping on a couch. I leave hotels for those who need them.)

I was pleasantly woken up this morning by the gentle sunlight coming in from the tall, wall-to-wall windows and the cool breeze that reminded me of nothing in Austin. I got up and looked outside.

Bright colors, green buses, signs I cannot read. No tall buildings as far as my eye can reach and faces I can guarantee you I have never seen before. I don't know where I am. I don't know where I'll go, nor where I'll have lunch. I don't know what kind of people I'll meet. I don't know where that bright, orange bus is going.

I love this!! This, right here, is what I live for!!!

M.

Despite all my rage...

Change is inevitable!



There! I started my post with a deep, philosophical belief. Therefore, the rest of whatever I write will surely be filled with intelligent opinions, intriguing facts and mind-altering conclusions. Right? Right!

I advocate change and self-growth more than anything else in my life (I think). I strongly believe that the only way for anyone of us to achieve all goals and reach ultimate personal fulfillment is by constantly changing. The thought process behind such a bold sentence is simple.

The more we learn, the more we understand.
The more we understand, the more things we try.
The more we try, the more mistakes we make.
The more mistakes we make, the more we put ourselves to the test.
The more we put ourselves to the test, the stronger we become.
The stronger we become, the more different we see the world.
The more different we see the world, the more we change our way of thinking.
The more we change our way of thinking, the better we become as individuals.

So there you have it, one of my strongest philosophies in life, in a nutshell. I could give you the full version, but this is not the time for such detail. Regardless, you're welcome!

I'm sure many of you will claim that if this is really how I think, then it's knowledge that I should treasure more, because had it not been for that, there would be no change. If you se it from a logical perspective, I cannot disagree. But from a practical perspective, things are different. I do love to learn about anything and everything around me, but the thing that excites me the most and gets my heart beating faster is the actual change. I understand that you can't have one without the other, but if I had to choose one, I would choose change. I love waking up any given morning and realizing that something inside me has changed.
Suddenly, I like pizza more than I like burgers.
Today I feel a stronger desire to learn how to dance tango, rather than how to play the guitar.
Hmmm... I think I will sell all my stuff, give up the life I have right now and move to Asia.

Makes perfect sense? Good, it wasn't supposed to anyway! Moving on.

Everything is good and jolly until an "unexpected" complication comes in the picture. What happens when you lose control of your changes? Don't tell you you thought you are fully in control of the shape and form you are taking, did you? I'm sorry for having to be the one to break it to you, but you can't control shit!!! You are in the mercy of your subconscious and the influences you place yourself in the middle of. All you can do is follow a given direction. The rest, my friend, is not up to you.

"Why can't I be in control of who I am becoming?" you're going to ask. Well, it's simple. Building a character is a little bit like cooking. You know what spices you're going to use, but you don't always know how much of each you need, in order to get the perfect result. So you use your judgement and try to guess. You put a little bit of salt, to awaken the flavor. You put some cinnamon to sweeten things up a bit. You put some cayenne pepper to give the whole thing a good kick. And then you bake it and you're hoping that you're gotten it just right. The final outcome, however, comes as a surprise. You're going to like something about it but you can also taste a part of it that needs some improvement. There are, of course, times that you get just the perfect result. You succeed in creating exactly what you had in mind and you stand there in awe, repeating over and over again that you can't believe how good this dish turned out to be. And those moments are beautiful and priceless.

Whichever the case, the important question is: What do you do when you're a passenger in the bus of change and suddenly you see it pass by the highway exit you were expecting to take, indicating you've boarded the wrong bus? Or even worse, how long does it take you to realize? Do you see it immediately? Do you have your doubts, but quickly brush it off? Does it hit you only when the bus ends up falling down to an endless abyss? In other words, how the fuck do you get back on track?

And that is where I don't quite have an answer. At least not until I manage to get myself out of that same boat! I already knew I have been changing at increasingly high speeds the past few months, but it wasn't until recently that I realized I don't quite like all the changes I have undergone.

It seems that the past 2 years I have spent in the USA have been very intense on me and have pushed me to change in ways that do not quite agree with my preferences and beliefs. I'm not going to elaborate much on this just yet, mainly because I'm still trying to figure it all out. But one thing I know is this. I'm not afraid to turn around. If what I see ahead of me does not put my excitement on a trampoline, I'm perfectly happy to bring back one of the element that I know for a fact it makes me happy, and begin revising from there. As I said, I may not be able to determine how things will turn out, but I can most definitely choose the magic carpet I'll be flying on.

M.

P.S. The title of this post has absolutely nothing to do with its content. The Smashing Pumpkins took over and claimed it.

Drawing a blank...

For a few days now I've been feeling the need to sit down and do some writing (or typing. Whatever.). I have something in my head, I start typing and a couple of sentences later I realize that nothing further is coming to mind. My desire to write was clearly not accompanied by inspiration and the whole attempt just fell on the ground like a clay plate at a Greek party. In other words, the end result was not very pretty.

So, instead of pushing myself to put forced words together, I'm just gonna eat some chicken and watch a brain-dead action movie with Jet Li. Or maybe Jason Statham.

Yeah, that'll do it.

Take *THAT*, literature...

M.

I *am* flying!

The other day I was sitting at a cafe, observing people.

A kid put his two hands on the railings on either side of the steps leading to the patio and pushed himself up with enough strength to lift his feet off the ground and dangle his legs back n forth.

“I’m flying!!” he said to his mom standing a few feet away.

“No, you’re not flying. You’re hovering.” She quickly replied. You could see the disappointment in the boy’s face. It only took 3 words for him to turn from happy and excited, to disillusioned and sad.

Why did she do that? The kid is barely 8 years old. Is it really that hard to let the boy live in his imagination? She wouldn’t need to say much. She wouldn’t even need to lie, if that was her reasoning behind shattering her son’s super-hero moment. A simple “Wow!” or “Yeay!” or even a smile would have been enough for the boy to continue flying.

Why do we try to teach “reality” to children so quickly? Why grow up as soon as possible and face the world with its rules and laws and realities... Every day I come across examples of people not allowing themselves (or others) to live their surreal moments. For so many generations now, people have been getting brain-washed with the importance of being proper, serious, acting maturely and making sure they present themselves as a good fit for society. Why not let our inner child free to explore the bizarre corners of our mind? Why not express ourselves in the way that our heart wishes, instead of choosing the way that people around us consider appropriate? It’s always about “What will the neighbors think?”, or behaving according to our age. And for what? For not being judged based on those actions by those who, deep inside, which they could do the same thing? Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass.

If others choose to judge you and profile you based on the moments you decide to act like a 6 legged, 2 headed creature in the street, or the times you wear a bright red speedo over your torn jeans, or when you are holding on from a railing and pretending to be flying, then those individuals should never be given the privilege of being part of your social circle. They do not let you explore your full potential and that is much less than what you deserve.

So go live your moment. Be the weirdo you truly want to be! Pick up your air guitar and scream at the top of your lungs right into the world’s ear.

And kid, when you come back down, please bring me a small piece of a cloud. I’ll be the one in a tutu with orange face paint on, walking into a conference.



M.

FUCK THEM (with a smile)!

Fuck guns. Why don't people understand that guns don't solve problems. They create bigger ones. Countries that allow every Tom, Dick n Harry to own a gun for "protection" don't have any more or any less burglaries, muggings and assaults than countries that do ban guns. Sure, your aunt once scared a rapist off. Don't forget also, though, that Jim's 6-year old son found his dad's accidentally loaded weapon one lovely autumn afternoon and shot his own face off!

Fuck racists. Stop hating a color. It only makes you look retarded. It's like hating only part of a rainbow. The day your precious, pale-skinned princess elopes with her black lover who achieved more goals in a year than you have in a lifetime, I'm gonna laugh in your face and then piss on your favorite fucking petunias!

Fuck organized religion. Can't you understand that every single religious script written was compiled by PEOPLE and not a GOD? Do you think that your god had a sharpie and left behind an autobiography and a manual? Or do you think that as he shared his thoughts/instructions, every other person repeated the exactly same words? Have you never played chinese whispers as a kid for fuck sake??

Fuck corrupt politicians. And by fuck them, I mean stop voting them! Stop undermining your intelligence by believing that people who fucked their country over 8 years ago will be better, simply because the last people you voted proved to be as corrupt as the others. THEY ARE ALL THE SAME SHIT!!!

Fuck ignorant drivers. Somebody take their car keys and throw them in a dragon's lair! They will never learn that indicators are called that way for a reason. The don't understand why staying on the right side when going slow is helping traffic move faster. It makes sense to them to carry their ugly fucking chihuahua in their lap while driving their 20-ton pick-up truck.

Fuck bullies. Seriously, guys? Playing macho-man on an individual that is a quarter your size makes you feel good about yourself? Sooner or later, you will either realize that this behavior will never make your penis be of respectable size and you'll feel like a douchebag, or you'll get to meet the aforementioned individual's brother who not only is he 4 times your size, but he also happens to have been raised by yetis up in the Himalayas and he will make you his bitch. Either way, do yourself a favor and cut this crap.

Fuck wars. Period! If you think you can define what a "winner" of a war is, please stop talking to me.

Fuck MacDonalds. How can you not give a shit about what you feed to people? Do you ever spend a happy Sunday afternoon with your kids at one of your restaurants? I truly hope not, because you would be an ever bigger waste of oxygen than I thought.

Fuck you. Yes you. Because at some point in your life, for a brief moment or for longer, you probably entered one of the thousands of categories of people that deserve a good kick up the arse.

Fuck me. Because the previous "fuck you" applies to me too. And because here I am, behind a bright laptop monitor, having a pointless rant without even being pissed off.

No, I'm not pissed off. I'm just frustrated because I lost faith in humanity a long time ago and day after day I see reasons all around me that do not prove me wrong.

I'm also not some emo, upset with the world, kinda guy. I'm a very happy person, living a wonderful life, not lacking anything, with lots of wonderful people in my life who care for me and I care for them and my passion is to travel the world because there's nothing I love more than observing the beauty in everything around me and learning from it. That does not mean, however, that I do not see some things for what they are and believing that the flaws we have as a species will simply never change. This is a wonderful, wonderful world, but like everything else, it is not perfect. Sometimes I wonder... Where is the point where we enjoy it for what it is and stop trying to fix it? Some things are as they are and will never change. I don't want to be living frustrated. I want to live happy. Happy for what I have, for who I am, for whom I have by my side and for what I will achieve in the future. Of course I will fight for what I believe in and will put my blood and soul in something I feel will make the world a better place - if not for everyone at least for some. But I also understand that sometimes I need to cut my losses and move on. Life is only as amazing as we make it, regardless of the hurdles.

If none of the earlier rants apply to you and you are one of those few, inspiring, wonderful individuals that walk the streets, I apologize and offer you a cupcake.



And there I went, on a tangent once again, having started with one thing and having ended with another. It's a good thing I never promised cohesion in my expressed thoughts.

I'll leave you with a song that always makes everything better.

M.

Boots... STOP walking!!

Today's morning plan had two potential paths to follow. One was to wake up at 8am and go for boot camp. The other was to have a nice, hearty breakfast. Since I went to bed at 3am and got out of bed at noon, the obvious choice was, of course, the latter. (Yes, I had breakfast at 1pm. Deal with it.)

After a delicious, juicy, chicken-filled French crepe, we stopped by the Austin Pets Alive station on South Congress to show the dogs some lovin'. That's where I got acquainted with the adorable Carter.



I've always loved dogs more than any other pet and I've been wanting to have one for years. Specifically, I like big dogs. The kind that will be dragging you down the road while you're desperately trying to hold on to the leach and when they jump on you in the living room, you're lucky if you manage to stay on your two feet. Small dogs are not my thing. Anything that bounces while barking is not a dog. Those little overgrown rats should just be a squeaky toy for my dog to chew on. But I digress.

While walking Carter around the neighborhood my mind went on a tangent once again about what I sacrifice to have the kind of life I choose to lead. It's impossible for me to have a dog. How can I possibly be responsible for it and keep it by my side, when my desires often include fleeing the country I've been living in for 2 years to go travel like a nomad through 4-5-6-7-athousand countries before choosing to settle in whichever destination is unexpectedly designated as last (for the time being)? It's not the fact that I consider it a burden. On the contrary, it would be a wonderful partner in crime. But most countries have regulations when it comes to "migrating" dogs, such as getting vaccinations, issuing passports and visas (yes, a pet passport), putting them in quarantine for a pre-determined amount of time, etc. On top of that, what the hell is the poor dog going to do when I decide to go and spend a month in the Gobi desert? Supplies are scarse and living condition are harsh for a human, let alone for a canine.

Half way through this thought process, I saw an abandoned church with a HUGE, arched side window that was sealed shut. My mind immediately went to my dream home. A house up on a hill, but not far from a busy city centre. Lots of big, loft-like spaces, high ceilings and enough natural light to make the marble floors of my kitchen sparkle. My bedroom has that exact same window. I pull the long curtains open and as the wooden rings grind upon the dark, brown, oak curtain rail, I am overwhelmed by the sun's warm rays, while I gaze upon the green field that trickles down towards the city's skyline.

SLAM ON YOUR BREAKS, brain and enjoy the screeching of the wheels on the tarmac, complemented perfectly by the alluring perfume of burning rubber, because that's all you're gonna get to feast on for now. Are you forgetting that you still have not found a city that you can call "home"? How can you make such a dream house a reality when you haven't even found the perfect ground for it and every place your heart has gotten captivated by so far proves to be inadequate only a couple of years down the line?

Some travelers have a home base and some don't. The ones that do either choose their home base because they need one, or because it feels like the perfect one. Me, I can't settle. I have the kind of heart that will never find peace unless every single piece of the puzzle feels perfect. Until then, I'll keep on vagabonding from place to place, from beauty to beauty, from surprise to surprise. Even if it means sacrificing some of my deepest desires. It's a choice I made long ago and I never looked back. It's a trade-off I am perfectly happy to live with. For now, at least...

I will never stop walking. Ever. It's who I am. It really would be wonderful though for my boots to have their very own shoe rack where I can pick them up from each time I choose to wander off and long to put them back into many months later. I'm looking forward to that.

M.

I like...

I like women.
In fact, I love women.

Mind you, this is not an attempt to reaffirm my sexuality and make a public declaration regarding my sexual preferences. I am not referring to how I view women sexually. What I’m talking about is appreciating women. I feel strongly for what they offer to this world and what they make me feel.
A strong, warm, female voice calms me down, makes me feel good, puts a smile on my face and soothes my soul. I can almost feel my ears go into a fetal position and suck on their own lobes. You can tell a lot about someone’s character through their voice. Well, at least I can. Usually I’m not proven wrong. Usually...

How did this come up just now? I am listening to “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + The Machine and the singer’s voice is beautiful. It has nothing girly about it. It’s not that high-pitched, girly voice that is usually followed by a giggle and eyes shut tightly. It’s that mature voice, filled with certainty. Without even knowing who the hell that artist is, I am picturing a woman that knows what she wants. A woman that has gone through deep sadness and ecstatic joy. A woman that knows a lot about a lot and is not afraid to look at someone in the eyes and smile at them.

The song ended and was followed by “City Of London” by Mekons. Yet another beautiful, alluring voice. Again, a voice that inspires confidence and respect. However, this voice gives away a more playful character. A more seductive character. A woman that will have you hooked and acting like a Dali-like melting puppy at her single touch.

That is the kind of voice I want my ears to be graced with. Even before initiating a conversation I feel inspired by that person. I feel that I will hear something more important than “You’re not going to believe what Gracey did yesterday when I filled her food bowl”! I immediately feel the desire to express my deepest feelings, worries and desires to this person. Granted, I may change my mind during the course of the conversation, but I start on a positive note, rather than with a cringing “oh god.....” feeling.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that people without that kind of voice are not worth the time of day and that I would judge them negatively just because of that. But having such a voice, even a psychopath will have their foot through the door in getting my attention. My response to the all-too-typical question “What’s the first thing that you notice in a woman?” is, without fail, her eyes and her voice. Yes, I know those are two things, shut up!

Having come up with the name “Gracey”, Grace Potter came to mind, the singer of Grace Potter And The Nocturnals. She doesn’t have what I would typically identify as a beautiful, heart-warming voice. The energy, though, that she transmits when singing and the emotions that she inspires is really something else. Her voice belongs to a different category. It’s as if she uses her voice as a medium through which she transmits her energy and her positivity. Some people can do that. I couldn’t tell you how. They just do. It’s strange. Not even the lyrics matter. It’s the vibrations that take place in my ear drums that do the trick. It’s the power of the voice that can be used in many ways, regardless of its quality. Now, I can’t deny that she is also a very very beautiful woman. But really, whether seeing her live or listening to her music at home, I close my eyes and her voice alone takes me where I want to be. No, I don’t do that while driving, don’t worry.

As you can tell, voices are very important to me. Even the ones in my head. I don’t know what I would do without my hearing.

I like voices!
In fact, I love voices!

Yeah... I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to say all along.



M.

Because I ran out of paper napkins

I find that when I'm in a situation where I'm just waiting for something to happen, my mind goes to even more directions than normal but with the added element of processing every single one of those directions. My ADD turns into a thought process during which the random "Squirrel" gets psychoanalyzed and my mind is trying to find out what's so damn special about nuts.

This can happen at any given moment: while looking inside an empty room, waiting for the bus, having a drink in an empty bar, driving down a not-so-busy road, sitting in my office punching my procrastination in the stomach... I can go on forever with examples, but you get the idea. Thing is, in all those cases, I get this intense desire to write my thoughts down. I've written crazy thought processes on napkins, on dubstep flyers, on my arm, on an HEB receipt, on a bank statement... ("So what? Join the club." I hear a bunch of random people passing by shouting at me.)

As you understand, all those situation occur much more often when I'm settled in a new home/city/country/continent rather than when I'm in travel mode. And it makes sense. While traveling, There is so much stimuli around me, it's impossible to actually sit down and process it. The only thing I can do is breathe everything in and wait until I sit my arse down for a few months so that I can process all that madness I experienced during the time I spent vagabonding from A to B.

Well, I have now decided to share all those napkins, because at the end of the day, what's the use of a great fucking idea, if you don't tell anyone? (Plus, as we all know, if it's not on Facebook, it never happened!)

M.