Can I ever be normal? And WTF is that actually?

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When people say, "let me tell you something," I say, "You just did, I didn't have a choice." When people say, "will you let me ask you a question?" I say, "I just did, I didn't have a choice." Language is such a strange thing.

If you're not bleeding, making romance, filthy, exhausted, laughing or crying, you're not living. This has become my mantra. Use this life for what it gives you, and use it hard. Learn to be ultra-spiritual :D Thanks to JP Sears for that advice. Another name drop!

Where I'm staying now, with Chuck Norris in the campground outside the hostel, we have a simple life. When the tropical rains come, everything gets soaked and we dry it out whenever the sun reappears. The bathrooms and showers are semi-outside: walls on three sides but no roof. When the leaves fall or people spill shit on the toilets, we clean up. There is little superfluous detail to this lifestyle. Our cats and dogs come and visit us in the morning, we give them any water or extra food. For the third time in my life, I've found a cat to whom I'm not completely indifferent. They all eventually scurry off to whatever other areas they choose to grace with their presence. I have incredibly focused yoga sessions in the mornings due to my calm state of mind and the private outdoor space I live in. I could never achieve this in a city; I wish I had enough control over my mind to do so... not that I want to live in a stupid dumb idiot city.

There was a gringo, probably mid-to-late 20's, sitting right in the middle of the road a couple days ago. Naturally people were taking pictures and honking and he was yelling at them angrily. I started talking to him calmly, trying to be his transient psychologist I guess. He had a lot of hatred for his father, his family and people in general. I'm fairly certain that he was experiencing crystal meth withdrawal. Most people found it amusing or offensive, but I found it very sad. I stayed with him, brought him water, persuaded him to leave the middle of the road, and let him use my phone to call his father the US. He just screamed into the phone for a couple minutes and achieved nothing. He had nothing except the shorts he was wearing: no money, no home, no posessions. Eventually the police were called. They were very calm and patient and tried to help him, but he knows no Spanish (I'm still baffled by gringos who live in Mexico, and aren't interested in at least a tenuous understanding of Spanish). I tried my best to help and talk him into looking forward and trying to take the first step to improving his state. Eventually when he became more aggressive, they had to force him into the back of the truck and handcuff him and take him to jail... I cried for him that night. He could be murdered in Mexican prison, being sick and vulnerable and malnourished, knowing no Spanish, withdrawing from heavy drug use, and being full of so much aggression.

I got caught by a stranger, naked with a boner, kissing a lady friend, on a beach which I thought was more private. We found a more private beach and made love in the sea during sunset. Sooooo this is my life right now.

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