1stChptr neil edmands ​You​ rianglulated memoir 4 el salvador tue 3rd may 2022 WED 4 THUR 5 FRI 6 SAT 7 SUN 8 MON 9 TUE 10 WED 11 THU 12 landed 7am L pick up L pick up run run turned over early run helltel san fran and home 2524 hotel church till 3 poison covidTest first flight nap 2hrs L/B out to ss back to 1st nite 2nd nite helltelLAX A&J A&J L&B L&B jail Triangulation [Kwin] I’m dead. I’m very upset about it. It’s the same reason I’m usually upset, I did or didn’t do something that I wish I had or hadn’t done. Weirdly, I’m not certain where my rage is directed. How did I die? I’m not in a bad place. It’s sunny, a bright green field of soft grass, an unnoticable temperature. It’s gorgeous. There’s no one around, but I don’t feel alone. I just can’t stand this aggravating question. How did I die? O. I spent so much time planning this trip, probably thirty hours or so… maps, locations, phone calls. I was determined not to be a bougie tourist but to be a traveler pursuing the riches of the culture of the people, a glimpse into their real way of life. To be humble. To be generous. To learn. And to not offend. I managed the generous part fairly well. The rest of it… well, like the man in Detroit once told me when I asked if I would be alright pumping gas in this questionable neighborhood. He said, “If you a lamb, you be alright. You a woof, you gone have problems.” Made sense. I’d be alright. Cause when you’re white, you’re white. Rarely right, I’m almost always alright, even if I’m food. I remember getting to the big airport for our late-night layover. I had tracked when each restaurant closed. It took a while, but we ate well. My seven year old son, Kamu, was tired but we were in good spirits. We ate late in the night in the LAX airport at modernly laid out, well managed, slick eatery bar... about a seven-minute walk from anywhere. //Our final flight was at about 12:30 a.m. //We were so excited. I told Kamu how I felt, as if our last flight would be like paddling into a giant big wave, getting barreled, and how our final destination would be like pulling out on the other side of the wave with ocean water spraying like a cannon. I talked with a few people waiting at the gate. It was mostly middle age and older, moderately rotund women traveling alone. They looked so loving. Aunties. Leaders of human fabric. I felt this homogeneous demographic to be somewhat odd, but maybe these are the most powerful travelers. Younger women are prone to rape, abduction, disposal. Murder a man to gain Mana. Children are as snatch-able as a purse. Older, less sexy females are the queens. You will lose if you fuck with a queen. Or, maybe they were all returning from carrying wax wrapped wads of cocaine in their g.i. tract. ugh… the human capacity for evil is so elaborate. And the fearful imaginations of lily-white american surfer and his son are even more so. I chatted with a young Honduran guy Headed to San Pedro Sula. How do you say en espanol, you gotta do what you gotta do. Immediately after liftoff everyone ordered coffee immediately? It was a kind of a smaller, older plane. Two rows on either side. If there was a screen for entertainment, it seemed it hadn't worked in years. No, I don’t remember any screens, but phones. Phones? Why non-functioning phones. Was there some moment in airplane construction trends that precipitated this. I lost consciousness pretty easily, but I hadn't brought fancy neck pillows. I didn't want anything fancy. White american is fancy enough. I wanted to present myself to the people as a humble family man. Turned out, I am an idiot. ========================================================================= I’m on the beach. Kamu is playing in the shoreline waves with one of his favorite buddies. It’s another classic, idyllic moment. I’m just sitting on the beach watching. I hate my life. Why the hell would I think thoughts like this. It has no basis in reality. It’s so obvious that it begs me to wonder how entirely divorced from the world my other thoughts may be for the past 47 years. I don’t just hear myself think it, I feel it. I don’t want this. A few decades ago, I would have thought that this was a thought that needed fixing, but in this moment I recall what The Surfer says, suffer, suffer, suffer. I’ve forgotten to suffer, ah yes, this is my true nature. I run down the beach a thousand yards or so and swim back. Ah, much better. I’m ok now. Fatigue is my favorite emotion. It means I’ve done something exertional and I likely won’t feel bad for my wasted life in some moments. ============================ Get Outlook for Android