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"It is the journey which makes up your life."

Friday, June 03, 2005

San Jose

I stayed in the sketchiest hotel of my life last night. It cost four dollars, contained nothing but a bed, linoleum, no windows, and there were donald duck noises coming from across the hall all
night that Cooper said were people snorting coke. I wouldn't know. I got the hell out of there. Sunday Im heading up to Nicaragua, waving goodbye to gallo pinto, cheese that tastes like plastic, and crazy fucking taxis. I have trouble missing things when there is so much great stuff in front of me. Maybe when I'm home again I will start to process some more. I have been reading detective
novels and about small pox. I always thought small pox was relatively benign, you know. The plague sounds so much worse, but this book makes it sound absolutely gruesome. Im just starting the part about biological weaponry. Fucking scary. Here I thought global warming would kill us all first. Maybe astroids and zombies. Or the free masons. Theyre so cute and cult like. My
favorite conspiracy theory subjects after the Nazis. Heil pyramids!


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