Yesterday me and a friend just got back from a 5 days in paradise, or was it? More so then not, it was an amazing place to be. We left last Saturday morning on the first flight out, barely making the flight. The destination was Cancun, Mexico, home of the now extinct Mayan group of natives. We were in our hotel by 4 pm or so, stopping for a short time in Mexico city to transfer planes. The marvel of plane travel is always adventurous to me, except for spilling a beer between my legs which made the flight to Mexico city slightly uncomfortable, but not unbearable. It didn't take long to get settled in at the hotel and we were soon in the blue ocean. I had never seen the ocean so clear. Our room had an amazing view of the beach and the long line of massive hotels. Overlooking the ocean I enjoyed my first coronita, the mini bar was stocked and we had room service available to us at an time for pretty much whatever we wanted, mainly food and drinks.
The tropical weather took some getting used to, but now I miss it and I'm freezing up here and its a little above 80 during the day here. Not far off from our hotel was the pedestrian walkway, an alley of clubs, bars, shops, hustlers and just people out for your money any way they can get it. We frequented this area usually every night to get the fuel and then move to this club or that club. I just can't seem to get into the club thing because A) I cannot dance B) I cannot stand the music. Maybe one day I'll try again, queue that one song from Wham. Anyways I think I maintained a constant buzz on a variety of substances the entire time I was down there. It got to the point where it felt normal, which is just boring. I guess too much of a good thing can easily turn into the opposite, even in blissful paradise.
I managed to finish "The prettiest girl in town & other short stories" by Charles Bukowski and almost finished "Journey to Ixtlan" By Carlos Castenada, create some interesting sketches of faces and listen to many great albums. I was unable to really let go of myself, I almost felt trapped in paradise at times. I couldn't break away from where I was going to be when I got back; out of a job, out of transportation, lonely and wondering if I that girl was really pregnant. Now that I am back, I still don't have a clue about any of those things. I almost feel paralyzed but I am managing to type this story, so not so much (though maybe it's the amount of coffee or benzedrex in my body that is allowing me to get this out).
Saturday night was the most out of control and whats probably ruined my momentum, while walking back to the hotel we started talking to a man from Cameroon who pulled people on this contraption, then it started to pour. We took refuge underneath it and when the rain stopped a girl came and grabbed my hand and drug me away and started kissing up on me, then she pulled me into a dark corner outside some restraunt. She wanted twenty bucks for a blow job, I don't pay for this kind of pleasure and I told her I didn't have any money, she proceeded to pull out my cock and suck me anyways, was I gonna object to this? I don't think so. I felt her go for my wallet and moved my hand to cover it, she still didn't stop sucking me. I didn't come, actually I didn't want to come, I just pulled away and went back to the hotel, my friend was talking to the concerige. I told him I need to go wash my dick off, and have something to drink. It all happened to fast and now I still have this worry that I could have something, which completely disgusts me. God, I hope not. Stupidty was never a choice, or was it? Now I am worrying about two possible life changing outcomes. I always seem to expect the worse and thats my problem, thats the reason for my paralysis, or excuse. The trip was not all bad, but I am haunted now this just opened me up to all the bad decisions I've made and wonder if I had done something different where I would be and would I be happy, I think I have to just accept where I am now and build and learn and never look back again.
The tropical weather took some getting used to, but now I miss it and I'm freezing up here and its a little above 80 during the day here. Not far off from our hotel was the pedestrian walkway, an alley of clubs, bars, shops, hustlers and just people out for your money any way they can get it. We frequented this area usually every night to get the fuel and then move to this club or that club. I just can't seem to get into the club thing because A) I cannot dance B) I cannot stand the music. Maybe one day I'll try again, queue that one song from Wham. Anyways I think I maintained a constant buzz on a variety of substances the entire time I was down there. It got to the point where it felt normal, which is just boring. I guess too much of a good thing can easily turn into the opposite, even in blissful paradise.
I managed to finish "The prettiest girl in town & other short stories" by Charles Bukowski and almost finished "Journey to Ixtlan" By Carlos Castenada, create some interesting sketches of faces and listen to many great albums. I was unable to really let go of myself, I almost felt trapped in paradise at times. I couldn't break away from where I was going to be when I got back; out of a job, out of transportation, lonely and wondering if I that girl was really pregnant. Now that I am back, I still don't have a clue about any of those things. I almost feel paralyzed but I am managing to type this story, so not so much (though maybe it's the amount of coffee or benzedrex in my body that is allowing me to get this out).
Saturday night was the most out of control and whats probably ruined my momentum, while walking back to the hotel we started talking to a man from Cameroon who pulled people on this contraption, then it started to pour. We took refuge underneath it and when the rain stopped a girl came and grabbed my hand and drug me away and started kissing up on me, then she pulled me into a dark corner outside some restraunt. She wanted twenty bucks for a blow job, I don't pay for this kind of pleasure and I told her I didn't have any money, she proceeded to pull out my cock and suck me anyways, was I gonna object to this? I don't think so. I felt her go for my wallet and moved my hand to cover it, she still didn't stop sucking me. I didn't come, actually I didn't want to come, I just pulled away and went back to the hotel, my friend was talking to the concerige. I told him I need to go wash my dick off, and have something to drink. It all happened to fast and now I still have this worry that I could have something, which completely disgusts me. God, I hope not. Stupidty was never a choice, or was it? Now I am worrying about two possible life changing outcomes. I always seem to expect the worse and thats my problem, thats the reason for my paralysis, or excuse. The trip was not all bad, but I am haunted now this just opened me up to all the bad decisions I've made and wonder if I had done something different where I would be and would I be happy, I think I have to just accept where I am now and build and learn and never look back again.