Almost away, and I am living in retreat, or an onward march reflected. Mexico has shown me nothing, other than further spoilage of humanity and corruption of intent. Gaby was fine for what she was, but oh how I am tired, and eager to reach upon the shores in Oregon, to walk to Forest Park, to have tea with phillip, to spend effortless days with the Berwicks.

Mexico, I am over you. You, who have shown me nothing but the slag of slag, the cage of language and culture. At least, I thank you for that. Ever will i be locked in. The weak, the lazy (yes, me!), the sad, the maladjusted, the slaves of society (who is not now-a-days), the crushing angles, the pirated soul, the gasping heart.

G. is thinking again, always thinking herself into a shadow, a figura of lac.

I just want to be happy for a month or two, even a year. I have started the no-fap challenge again for March.

I don't trust her anymore or want her. The sun achingly enters past the floral curtains, creating the room. Manzanillo maybe just any other street, it is my street, and the traffic laughs.

There is nothing left for me here. I give up. Spanish is a bullshit language. Am i laying a curse with these words?

Spanish is only a run-a-bout, a different feeling that kills me to access. So, I have to forget it, and fall in love with another design.

The miracles, and why cannot I avoid reddit, and 4chan, and endless diversion.

Please help me Jesus,

I'll be waiting,


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