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This is my day.
Waking up at around 8 a.m.. Usually wasted.
Put myself together for teaching or physical exercise.
Facing the variety of choices where to have a late breakfast or early lunch.
After the ingestion, frequently some shopping, before heading back to the apartment.
Pool, rarely.
Work. Check.
My first drink. Check.
It´s around 4 p.m..
Smoke. Check.
Work. Casually but succesfully, check.
Music. Check.
Preloading a movie for the night. Internet is a snailing ditch.
Leaving for a short dinner. Delicious food. Restaurant located just opposite of my apartment.
Or leaving to town, jump on a Tuk Tuk. One dollar. Downtown.
But that happens randomly, below the average, returning at a late hour, lame and again ready for the average, life as usual for a couple of days, currently more than 24 hours.
Anyway I will return to the apartment.
Balcony for a last goodbye.
Maybe one more White Russian. I launched the drink, Reaper´s Snowland. Cheap and pleasant. Australian Harvey Fresh Lactose free Milk with a proper shot of Stolichnaya. Optionally a spoon attached, transfering a small scoop of peanut butter, for a sweet finale. (To my boys in the hood, try it, gonna blow your west till the end. The nice end, the finale, you know what I mean, come on… you don´t know… neither do I. Just da fuck try!)
Finally falling asleep during the movie.
Days are just days here. Today, more than ever since I am on my way, with fixed dates, appointments, duties, but the the days still have no dates. I always guess the date wrong, close, but wrong. Time is there, but wrong. – Gosh I am drunken, why I have written and finally added this paragraph about dates, after confessing being drunken. Argh, just read on. Forget about the days.

I am not sure if I am searching for a place to settle down. Check. What´s left? Traveling. Wanderlust. More than ever. Escaping. Yes why not. sometimes you have to escape. Who says this is not a good motivation to travel. Fuck that. If you are on your way, nobody cares if you are on the run or on the road or off the beaten track or down the hills and up the mountains to pass´em all… it´s your choice. It´s better to choose instead of waiting for a deathblow. I kind of feeling stucked here. One reason for sure is, that my expactations I had, and I cold-hearted have, about the idea to settle down somewhere – even if it´s a place called home, are not pleased with the result till now. On the other hand, I don´t care about my fulfillments and wishes, I wanna travel, slitting the world, create my map, my land, my country, my choices. I escape the possibility to create or ruin friendships. I am getting more weird, talking to myself for hours on my balcony, calling it a pleasure, and it is, so basically not weird at all.
Being stucked creates a huge starving belowpace blackness, sucking on my ass, holding my balls down to the ground. I wanna juggle with them again! Do you remember, my lovely balls, the salty and sandy sunsets in Thailand, the sweaty bike trips in Myanmar or the freezy night trekks in Indonesia? We had a damn good time, right?! I take the no-answer as a