Dog Bites and Bee Stings

On way my way to the aeropuerto…

They would have skewered me in this neighborhood. So the money I paid la policía just went to police criminals instead of street criminals. (More on that later.)

There is something so intoxicating about this place, about the Spanish speaking world. It’s so scary when you don’t know what they are saying to each other but it’s so fun, it’s so chaotic. Buying deodorant or buying a chip for your phone goes from yawning to extreme focus and hoping things go in your favor. I don’t know, there’s something about this place I love even though I am the most outsider you could be. It doesn’t make any sense to be here but it doesn’t make any sense that talented people of the world drive themselves crazy going to work every day in terrible jobs. I’m rambling now.

The prices make me shit bricks too, I’m not good with conversions off the top of my head or I just don’t trust that it won’t be more than what they say but numbers here are in the hundreds and thousands sometimes and I’m like…I don’t know if I can afford that. Going to the airport now. Will pay to carry my bag on, praying the person at the front desk will help me. They want my money after all. And then a taxi ride at night to my bed in Oaxaca with no cell phone service because you have to register as a person to have a phone here now which sucks. I’m trying to hold it together today but it’s been tough. My brain is not always my friend and I don’t know why. Maybe a therapist can help me.