mickey mantel, kerouac
I took some time to visit south america when i was younger to perfect my command of the spanish language, only to end up hospitalized while approaching my goal. I sprawled in bed for four days, being eaten from the inside-out, sick with disorder and dehydration.
It is the type of thing I can write about when I'm older, shaping it to perform certain jobs. I left to become sick with something, and it changed my whole demeanor.
Naturally more plans fall into place: Mexico City, Malaga, marionettes and maracas. Adventures of different sorts with the same goals. Travel to meet new things and people, perhaps more German musicians and dancing partners. They're the types of things you use in order to create. It's what Kerouac did. It's the type of thing you can do for life.
I met a man named Tomas while drinking chicha at a bar slash cafe in Cuzco, listening to a European man play Peruvian folklore onstage with a harmonica in G and an oversized guitar. Tomas worked at the cafe, which I called The Cloud Bar, but which really had a different name. One I could never remember.
We were drunk by the time he started telling stories. He was Canadian. He had been living in Peru for two years by the time of our meeting. He had long, unwashed hair and elephant pants. I asked him his motives, and he first told me that the desire to work with children was what he usually used to avoid the discussion; then he discussed something else.
A small town in Alberta. My family owned a restaurant. I worked in it while growing up. It actually helped me get a job here at a cafe. When I was nineteen I tried to enter an art school in Toronto to study photography, but my family thought it was a bad idea. They told me they wouldn't support me, and tried to keep my home to take over the restaurant.
I needed something new. I needed a new perspective to be an artist. Home is a lack of perspective, you know? Well, I saved some money and Peru was the cheapest. They didn't require much to get into the country.
He stopped there, with my gaping at him. I visited The Cloud Bar every day for a few weeks, never seeing any photographs by Tomas. He did, however, serve a wonderful vegetarian sandwich.
Central Mexico, Southern Spain and plans. I'm not sure what Tomas's story is, but I am fairly certain that it treats inspiration and passion.
We're all going somewhere. I will go to spanish places and I can make more plans. I can meet more people like Tomas and write more stories and develop those stories. I have all the time in the world, and so do you.
Go and make the search for perspective. Just be careful, it's the type of thing you can do for life.
It is the type of thing I can write about when I'm older, shaping it to perform certain jobs. I left to become sick with something, and it changed my whole demeanor.
Naturally more plans fall into place: Mexico City, Malaga, marionettes and maracas. Adventures of different sorts with the same goals. Travel to meet new things and people, perhaps more German musicians and dancing partners. They're the types of things you use in order to create. It's what Kerouac did. It's the type of thing you can do for life.
I met a man named Tomas while drinking chicha at a bar slash cafe in Cuzco, listening to a European man play Peruvian folklore onstage with a harmonica in G and an oversized guitar. Tomas worked at the cafe, which I called The Cloud Bar, but which really had a different name. One I could never remember.
We were drunk by the time he started telling stories. He was Canadian. He had been living in Peru for two years by the time of our meeting. He had long, unwashed hair and elephant pants. I asked him his motives, and he first told me that the desire to work with children was what he usually used to avoid the discussion; then he discussed something else.
A small town in Alberta. My family owned a restaurant. I worked in it while growing up. It actually helped me get a job here at a cafe. When I was nineteen I tried to enter an art school in Toronto to study photography, but my family thought it was a bad idea. They told me they wouldn't support me, and tried to keep my home to take over the restaurant.
I needed something new. I needed a new perspective to be an artist. Home is a lack of perspective, you know? Well, I saved some money and Peru was the cheapest. They didn't require much to get into the country.
He stopped there, with my gaping at him. I visited The Cloud Bar every day for a few weeks, never seeing any photographs by Tomas. He did, however, serve a wonderful vegetarian sandwich.
Central Mexico, Southern Spain and plans. I'm not sure what Tomas's story is, but I am fairly certain that it treats inspiration and passion.
We're all going somewhere. I will go to spanish places and I can make more plans. I can meet more people like Tomas and write more stories and develop those stories. I have all the time in the world, and so do you.
Go and make the search for perspective. Just be careful, it's the type of thing you can do for life.