it feels really real right now. thats too many r´s in one sentence for anybody. it hurts right now. two r´s lets try for one next time, shit, two again, i just cant seem to get away from that number, it haunts me and just keeps coming back for more, the word semi professional lingers in my head, tomorrow, i edit a website and maybe tonight i start writing the ocotal survival guide, the how the fuck do i live in this town after a month and i dont know what to do with myself, where´s the ice cream? where´s the juice? where´s the people i can talk to who i know know where i am coming from or at least will not laugh in my face when i try to explain how im feeling, and where for fuck´s sake can i get the coldest or darkest beer in this little town? and does anybody have decent wine around? urgent pressing questions, that must be answered, and so ive set forth that task for myself.

if for anything to maintain a level of creativity and forward movement so that stagnancy doesnt hit like a brick in the face late at night, and speaking of late at night, does that even exist in these parts? i dont really think so. its not like there are semi-violent street kids out at 1030 or 11pm, its not like anyone just tells those silly fifteen year olds to go back home and study or do their laundry instead of hanging out on the stoop and pretending to be tough or something equally absurd.

the days are long here, and while people crack the dawn like eggs in a skillet over a wood fire they run from the night like children run from santa claus or the wierd uncle, they seem to recoil at the option of being out late, like being out late is something bad, its only home to the bagos the drunks the roamers those who dont have a home to go to or those who dont have anything home to go to and maybe thats why in new jersey we were always drawn to the night because here people have something to go home to, they have family, they have community, they have connection and smiles and they have a meaning in their lives that we lack in the united states, that open and loving connection that everyone has because we are all part of the community here, even me, the stupid fucking gringo, is part of the community and i feel pretty fucking special because of it, and tonight, for as goddamn sad as i am i am not going to go drink anything except for maybe something sweet, i will not hide in this like an addict, i am going to face it, to buck up and love it cause this is my life right now, these are my feelings and this sadness is as legitimate as the same happiness that i share with people that i love the same.

entonces, community and the night life, its dead, its mismal and its seriously lacking anything challenging, stimulating, or enjoyable to do for kids, god where have i heard that story before, hm, maybe nowhere? maybe new jersey, maybe mahwah? they wonder why we are zombies who scream for connection contact and love and latch on to anything that can provide us with smiles, happiness and a feeling of identity based in numbers strength and something positive, can i send a resounding but appreciative fuck you to DART right now? yes i can, thank you! fuck you!

and moving on.