December 26, 2002

  • This, now, for me, is living: thrown into the middle of Central America, taking in the sun-soaked morning, sitting at a shaded table on the outdoor balcony of a small town café sipping coffee, caressed by warm, gentle breezes, without a single obligation (consciously realized) or a pressing necessity to work, watching pretty girls occasionally wandering by, and just jotting thoughts that come to mind.  Oh, I suppose it could be better:  I could be laying upon a pristine Pacific beach, sunning, drinking daiquiris and otherwise doing the same—but that’s tomorrow.  Or I could be conspiratorially knocking down beers under a thatched-roofed, deep-shadowed, open-air cantina bullshitting with the local hombres—but that’s later tonight.  Then again, maybe not.  In fact, I’m sure I’m in just  the perfect spot to match the consciousness of the world at the moment .  And here’s the mantra of my quest: Have laptop, will travel.


     


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