It’s
hard to trust my memories without having a photo, a drawing, or some writing. I
really struggle keeping up with photos, and I only say this because I compare
too often to how many photos many of my fellow travellers are taking. I like to
stay in the moment, and when I look through that screen on my compact digital
camera, it takes me away from what is happening around me. Drawing is an
admirable skill, but my lack of interest doesn't allow for the practice to draw
honestly or even reasonably well through my eyes. I like to write. I'm going to
become a better writer, by taking your positive and negative critique and
considering everyone’s point of view and with practice I will soon become
completely ego free and unbiased. Actually, fuck that. There’s no such thing as
a non-biased point of view, but if I need to I could convince you so.
This is my henna. No it's not stupid and effeminate, it's cool.
India
challenges me mentally every single moment I'm on this different planet. I love
it, I really do. Even when I hate it, I love it. This thought process seems
like one of a mad man, and I can’t disagree that it very well may be. Let me
try to explain: a mixed curry of evil westerners with a bit of Indian masala
are served as a new dish at the Allahabad, a vastly overrated, overpriced
restaurant on 123 Fake Street. Most of the regulars who order this dish send it
away after catching the scent as it’s placed on the table. Some of them take a
cautious bite, skeptical of it’s contents and smash their plates on the floor
as if it were a Greek feeding. “Opa!” they shout with shit-eating grins and
authority in their voices. The new meals are beginning to look as though
they’ll be a wash, the management rushes to the kitchen to stop the rest of the
new mixed curry orders when he passes a customer on his way to the washing
basins with a masala-stained face, congratulating him on what he considers to
be a very fine meal. The meals are decided here and now to be kept, with a few
changes to be better suited for the locals. 4 of my friends and I are the "new dish", the regulars are the hotel owners who turned us down for many times "no reason", or "we are not a hotel even though it says we are". A couple hours through our adventure, we found a room! Never have I experienced such an event.
