The Fate of Foxes
It’s taken out of the newspaper (nothing has been changed except the words).
OK, so it’s been a while I have written anything remotely meaningful on here so, seeing as how I am feeling merry; full of birthday cheer (Simon’s, not mine), I thought I might stretch the word muscles a bit and write some things.
The sun is beginning to set over Mexico ( you can tell by that distinct chill in the air) and it’s a cause of frustration because it means the beginning of the end of not just my time here, it signals the passing of a short, passionate energy has been coursing through me of late.
I like to call this the Magdalena effect.
I’m in a real tough position, a tight spot, because something that I feel has POTENTIAL
to be so good (a rarity for me) is not physically possible to maintain.
It happens to everyone,
something happens to someone and it could change things,
open new doors, possibilities, experiences
and normally, I love these things;
it’s a chance to jump on a bus going the opposite direction, see the OTHER side of town but this time, I ain’t got the money for a ticket.
No, that’s not the right extension,
I am already on a bus and I see the other one going the other direction but I can’t just get off the bus to catch the other one, and anyway, I don’t know if that bus would WANT me on it. Maybe that bus is happy to pass me NOW but…
Look at me.
Gettin’ bogged down in buses.
The fact of the matter is,
I’ve got t remember that all the best things in life have a beginning and an end
Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da
Etc.
Started to miss home this week, nothing in particular, just being where the climate suits my clothes, hearing Lancashire, Cockney, West Country accents again. White horses on rolling hills. I guess this is maybe what Matt was talking about…!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not itching to pack my bags and head home but there are certain things that are missed.
Going to Mexico City with mi Magdalena this weekend, breathing in the city smog, experiencing an ancient energy, hunting for bullet-holes and visiting Socialist Consulates.
Fun-packed, eh?
Come along!
It’s only a bus-ride away…
Chao
¡Viva Movember y los Bigotes del Mundo!
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