I awoke mere feet from the oceans arms- taunted through my sleep; wild dreams crash my nerves backing me to the edge. I have always feared the ocean- its strengths and depths leave me in amazement. Give me a cliff and I’ll call it my home, but the sea- it’s for the fish.
We have been making our way up the coast, stopping in Mancora and Montanita to take in the beach and taste the local fisheries. The stops bear resemblance, but also share contrasts within it- but most beach towns still have the same laid back, stuck up feel.
I am working on decoding the theory behind one-upmanship and searching for the truth behind the band’s name the “Butthole Surfers”. I still remain at a loss...
I just reached another deciding point in my life- balconied over the brewing Ecuadorian sea, reading a paperback of Ginsberg- I decided to go back to school. I don’t know why I just had this thought, maybe because I would love to have my works published one day. And if not for that- my love for writing would not be an ounce thinner than the hairs on Homer’s head.
peru- mancora
To document a life- that’s a masterpiece in itself. It’s not a fear of forgetting, but more of a passion towards life and appreciation.
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