Some of the Best Days You Can Spend on the Planet

..or so I described the Inka Trail to Larsen over stayner's pints without thinking about 30 hours ago. Funny seeing him today with his baby tied to his stomach today, knowing his love of it and being so happy not to be in such a situation. Happy? Maybe the wrong word. For as you looked into the sun at the sad spectacle of Canadian University Football on display and waited impatiently for the clock to tick through the 60 minutes, it was tough to consider yourself really "happy". It is just a sense of not feeling satisfied, of not feeling comfortable, of not being able to bask in what is normal or expected. The glow of the double Baileys having passed, fatigue setting in, wondering why custom has you do the things you do. The boredom of it all, even given the finite number of minutes of existence.

Here you sit, or lie, some cheezies at hand and some gin, whatever you would like. But the lay-out of the party upstairs appeals to you not. Too much sameness of former days now gone, if that makes sense. How quickly too. Looking back, you marvel at how some of that time went, and in what an alcoholic haze there was in which it was lost. A failure to commit and a failure of confidence, that permeates, until (he thinks) you get a new start. Breathe in, breathe out, move on. Start over.

There's a knowingness, a certainty, that this will happen. The way Nasser just said, "I think I will go." The abruptness of decisions. That sense of apartness, strongly felt, inescapable. Yet so indefinite (the waiting I mean). Hard to get the motivation to not just wait out the days and save the money, and hard at the same time not to waste the money to get over the boredom. Lacking discipline in my loneliness. Wandering if this girl above the others will be able to make it any better.

At least you got the start on the writing out of the way. I wonder what they will think on it. Need to write up Maddy anyway, just for the hell of it. There's always an ability to sequel that out in the off-chance of the unexpected. You really wish you could recapture that ephoric state, the shimmering ocean on the walk home at 5AM having completed the 25,000 words. That was a moment. So that was something out of the ordinary that indicates the promise of more to come in the next 350 odd days.

Before it happens for real.