Jalen's Happy Ending

     Everyone knows he is different, or at least he fancies so himself. Jalen takes a lot of pride in himself, he doesn't see himself as one to be insecure. As a matter of fact, he feels to himself that he is not insecure about anything. Yet he feels there is no reason for him to express this thought, what good would come of it?
      Quite some time has passed now since he's last been home. He keeps in touch with a few friends, surprisingly only the ones that he didn't expect. Jalen isn't sure if this is the right time to finally make that visit, he is afraid of regression. He likes to forget about the past as soon as the present moment demands his attention, the only thing that can ever shake him to the core and make him lose sight, is her.
     Jalen tells himself that he really has no interest in visiting his hometown, in his own mind, he can spend his time being productive with the life that he has currently built for himself. Jalen isn't an academic, though once being an athlete, he is more built towards putting his physical abilities into good use. He resents that about himself. He never wished to have finished college, it never interested him, but he wants to be acknowledged for the mind that he knows he has. He isn't very knowledgeable either, to that he could admit to, but when it comes to conversations provoked by passion and the main challenge is to keep composure, he sees himself at the top. He also knows that his vocabulary isn't where he wants it to be and when he reads novels and stumbles across words that he does not understand, he never puts forth the effort to look up the definition. He jocosely believes that he can grasp the meaning of this foreign word simply through the context in which this unfamiliar word is being used. The reality however is that he is simply too lazy to put forth the effort. He is aware of all this.
       In no way shape or form is Jalen actually a lazy person, though that is one of his biggest attributes which always drowns him with guilt. A guilt he cannot seem to explain. He sees it as a motivative tool, something to help him be more productive. Yet Jalen is sometimes confused with himself whether or not he is being productive or just distracting himself from a matter that he really needs to confront. There are always rare moments in his life where he believes that he catches a glimpse of an absolute truth, a truth connected directly between the mind and the heart. How can he deny this truth and believe at the same time that there is no such thing as an absolute truth? However, these glimpses make him believe otherwise, or doubt his whole existence in general.
      He isn't in love anymore, the way he thought he wanted to be. It all died into wasted nights filled with loose ends that perhaps could've been tied, yet even the thought of 'could've/would've' used to make him grow restless and tired. What good came from any of it? When he last saw her he felt nothing, he tells himself this. He believes it too. Any time he reproaches the matter he knows that this is the self-destructive part that exists inside of him. The love he had for her only brings him memories of self-degradation, him being dragged through the mud, connections created only through his own projections, nothing ever validating his feelings, yet these glimpses have the ability to grip him deep in his soul. Perhaps it's the devil playing his tricks on him through her. He would laugh thinking at what he used to allow her to do. The level of humiliation that only he felt towards himself regarding the matter. How one can become so submissive without knowing why.

      Jalen knows he has to go back. It's been years since he has seen his family. Seven years to be exact. That is the driving force, his justifying reason for this trip. Jalen's mother loves him dearly but she smothered him in ways that she will never understand. There are no solutions to the issues between him and his mother. It's a simple game of acceptance. The more he dives into retrospective thought, the more he is drowned by a helplessness that he cannot fully express, which drains him further more. Every word attempted to describe the dysfunction between him and his mother is as equivalent to a movement in quicksand, he only feels further swallowed by this self-created despair. The way Jalen has learned to cope with this issue is to let the quicksand fully absorb and drown him, to give death to the thought itself, allowing life for a fresh new thought, a change of perspective perhaps. "Everything that my mother has done for me, was out of love, regardless of what ground she used to stand on," he soothingly says to himself, as if it's the first time that he has drawn himself to this conclusion.
     He can see passed all the fog now. He has managed to learn that when it comes to the matters of the heart, one must never lose sight of the big picture. In Jalen's eyes, getting carried away by minute details is only a sign of undeveloped character and a portrayal of blissful youthfulness. In no way does he think that he's got it all figured out, yet he doesn't shy away at giving himself the credit that he believes that he's earned. To himself, this is important information that no one else needs to be informed of. It's thoughts like these that validate his position on whether or not he is driven by vanity or conviction.
     "Damn, 2:30 A.M.? I need to get some sleep," frustrated he says to himself as he checks his phone. He's been laying down trying to sleep for almost two hours now. "If I fall asleep in the next thirty minutes, that would give me about four hours of sleep, that is if I wake up exactly forty five minutes before my shift," he's thinking to himself as he feels each second ruining the morning ahead of him. "Maybe I should just stay up all night?" he starts bargaining with himself.
     Nights would present themselves where sleep would never arrive. Most nights he never knew why, but this night he had an idea. Nerves, being excited about his upcoming trip, anticipating all the possibilities that would unfold in front of him. Whether or not he would succumb to his past or maintain focus and build off his present self. What are the chances he runs into her again? "Ahhh I'm so fucking petty, what's wrong with me?" he says to himself as he's agitated at the direction that his thoughts are headed.
     He hates how vain he is at times and always tries to reason with his vanity, trying to label it as something natural. Now he is thinking about whether or not all humans suffer this great torment of being conscious of their own vanity. "How can people be so content with being so image-based? But what do I know of their true thoughts, maybe me thinking that people do not suffer the way I do is just proof that I am more vain than them. But who isn't vain? This is nonsense!"
      Wondering if he will ever fall asleep, he starts thinking about eternal sleep, death. A common thought that always crosses his mind. He starts fantasising about his final thoughts, who would come to mind at such a final moment. The most grand of all the finales. Life is pointless to him, not in a sense where there is no point in trying anything, quite the opposite actually. The lack of meaning in life, he feels, is another concept that he uses as a motivative tool. "I can do as I please, all my dreams are within reach, I have no regrets, then why can't I fall asleep?" His irritation is growing with a snowball effect. At this point he gave up on the idea that he will catch any sleep.
     "But can it be? That my thoughts are taking up my time, regarding matters that consist of other people and their possible thoughts. Do they think about these matters as well? It cannot be. Do I ever cross her mind? How all these seconds that will decompose into nonexistence once I die, will have meant nothing, especially since these thoughts only consist of wondering whether or not she thinks about me. Such a waste of space, dead or alive! The outcome is the same! It's irrelevant, the path I choose!  So I may do as I please, since it's all the same?"
     Strange and provokingly finding his good humour through his thoughts, he sits up and checks the time. It's nearly 3:00 A.M. Now his baseness creeps up on him, knowing this to be a very familiar thought that always manages to find a way to surface itself. Avoiding it as if only meant to enrich the inevitable rendezvous. "How can such a natural act make one feel so vile?" he grotesquely thinks to himself after the matter has ended. The word 'natural' stuck out to him because this felt far from it. Yet he also doesn't believe in anything to be unnatural. Anything that nature does, whatever act, shape, or form it takes, is natural. Regardless of the belief that he holds, he knows that 'natural' isn't the best way to describe himself giving in to his baseness. He feels defeated by his inability to triumph over this repetitive monster that seems to never change its colour. How can it always be the same?
     He recently read that true freedom is achieved when one has been liberated from ones natural passions that are derived from primitive and base desires, this is only to be attained by old age. This didn't comfort his current inner turmoil but only created a space in his heart that made him realise that a time will come where he would yearn for the days to return where he was once a strong and capable man in his prime.
     "How fast my mind changes the channel," wondering to himself, thinking of what kind of effects this vile habit can have in the long run, especially if his bachelor days shall last longer than he expects, not having an actual expectation on when his bachelor days will actually end.
     He doesn't like the term 'bachelor'. To him the word coincides with an outgoing, shallow, base, and lively persona. He can agree with two of those, but he's neither shallow nor base. "I just gave into my baseness and here I am already creating a platform for me to stand on just so I can feel myself being at a distance, away from 'them'," thinking to himself as he is repulsed by his own hypocrisy.
     "Ah! Here I am letting my thoughts find a deep end to sink in while the most crude soul falls asleep as soon as their head hits the pillow, this must be a burden that is only carried by the good!" Justifying to himself and drawing to conclusion that he himself indeed is a good person. Being the way that he is, he immediately tries to find a way to contradict himself. He feels his vanity being the driving force any time he draws a conclusion where it ends with him being morally 'good'. So now he must prove himself wrong.
     "So all good people should have trouble sleeping and all bad people can fall asleep right away? My mother, regardless of the backwardness in her character, the deception used to achieve her goals, the lack of awareness of her surrounding, which makes her seem indifferent to those that are simply in her way, regardless of all those traits, the moment she puts her head down, she falls asleep! I mean people aren't perfect. But I know my mother is a good person! So why the hell do I hold myself to such a high standard and make excuses for all of humanity- and my mother! Ah! Alright this isn't going anywhere," Finding himself a bit confused and feeling the lack of sleep affect the velocity of his thoughts, he somehow still finds himself in high spirits in the midst of this sleeping crisis.
     He stands up and walks to his bookshelf, grabs "Republic" by Plato. Currently the conversation is about the definition of justice. One side claims that justice is about telling the truth and paying your debts while the other side argues that justice is whatever interests the strong have over the weak. Jalen continues reading for as long as he possibly can and finds himself dozing off. Checking the time he sees that it is almost 3:30 A.M. "Great! Now that I am promised less than three hours of sleep, of course now would be the time that I'll actually fall asleep," he says to himself putting a comedic emphasis on the word actually.
     He puts his book on the floor next to his bed, rolls over on his tummy, tucks both hands under the pillow but stops midway, flips both pillows over and stacks them on top each other, tucks his hands under the pillow again, "Ah, nice and cool!" finding that sweet spot where his left leg is slightly bent and his hands position oh so correctly, finding every part of his body positioned heavenly, his limbs growing heavier as his head starts levitating. Then comes that moment where he feels that he is turning with the earth, this is usually his telling point which leads him to believe that he will finally fall asleep, but he cannot get too excited, then his sleep will escape him!
     Breathing softly, thinking of her affection, who she is, this time he isn't sure. All he knows that she is heavenly, a woman that will embrace every part of his soul, enjoy his playful short-temper, proudly call his name in a room full of strangers, her imagining that all these strangers will all marvel at his existence the same way that she does because, how could they not? Of course, this lady that has not made her entrance in his life yet, will hold the highest position out of anyone. He knows that each day for her will be a day better than the prior, for each day she will learn more about his true character and realise that her soul has been destined with an exceptionally rare form of existence!
     "I will give her my all and nothing short of it!" He says to himself as if he is a man that is currently standing in front of his future father-in-law. This enchanting mademoiselle of course would be the most precious jewel on the planet, him and his future father-in-law both understand this and build a mutual respect for each other right away, through an agreement that is shared without a word even having to be uttered regarding the matter. This future father-in-law of course, being an excellent judge of character, would not only approve of him but also admire him, and be thankful that God has destined such an honourable, noble, and truthful man to be a member of his family and a deserving husband to his daughter. "Oh my God! What am I even thinking about right now! Such fantasies! As if a little boy naive of the tragedies of life!" Laughing to himself, actually giving an out loud chuckle, he truely enjoyed such fantasies.
     It wasn't an unusual thing for him to fantasise or look forward to the future, yet it was a rare thing. He knows that these wishful thoughts and fantasies regarding the future are better off for his mental health as opposed to the desecrating thoughts that come from dwelling on the past. He is a classic over-thinker but he knows that those days are on its final countdown. Rolling out of his comfortable position, checking the time again, he sees that it is almost 3:45 A.M.
    "All hope is lost, but what is the difference and whatever the difference is, what does it matter," he says to himself as he repositions himself. But first, he flips his pillows over again so that the coolness can be felt by his face and the warmth that his face gave to the other side can be felt by his cool fingertips. He tucks in his hands comfortably but this time he slightly bends his right leg, placing a third pillow under his right thigh. "Now that's comfort!"
     He takes in a deep breath, exhales softly. Jalen felt a moment of clarity, yet his thoughts kept gnawing at him, pestering at him, almost mocking him, ridiculing him for thinking he could fall asleep.
     The thought crept up again, the meaninglessness of life. How it all is now and how it all means so much to the individual, how it all passes, those that carry on, do not carry any of the past with them. If they did, it would be unbearable, that is why they don't carry it with them?
     He started picking up where he left off from earlier, his final moments. Fantasising the heroic thoughts that would run through his mind, his brave words that he would express, the stoic expression that he would have as he embraces the most feared phenomena.
     "Will there be something after or will it just be a void? Just as we do not remember anything prior to existence, shall it be just that? How this feeling of life is taken for granted, because, it is! It was granted to us without request! We are forced to live, there was never a choice in the matter, nobody agreed to anything! Here we are, thinking all of this has so much meaning and value, that one must appreciate and be thankful! But to be appreciative and thankful for that which was not asked for? And it turns out that this life happens to be the greatest responsibility in the whole universe! And also burden, yes! A burden indeed! Stress and worry, and worry and stress! Where is my time to rest? Will that be it? My death? That sweet sleep? That sweet eternal sleep? Yes, so why cherish sleep now? That sleep will come.... That sleep will come....." Dozing off to his decrypting thoughts, Jalen finally fell asleep just before 4:00 A.M.
     Jalens alarm went off at 6:30 like a bucket of water being splashed on him! The sudden sound of this obnoxious alarm confused Jalen. Not realising where the sound is coming from, and not understanding what is going on, he took a second recollecting his thoughts, realising that he has to be at work in forty-five minutes. "Ah! This is the worst!" Dreading the transition between being asleep and being awake, he gave into his weakness and hit the snooze button. That five extra minutes of sleep is always filled with anxiety and it even goes as far as him having a quick dream. In this snooze nap he had a snooze-mare of him being late for work which triggered in him a terror that made him jump out of sleep, like the time where you feel you are falling in your sleep and you suddenly jump up.  He became awake just a minute before the five minute snooze window was up. "Damn it! I could've slept one more minute!" he cried out hotly, ignoring the fact of how stupid and unreasonable he's being. Mad at himself for being in this sleep deprived position, upset at the fact that he needs to get up and get ready, regardless of these facts, he just continues to stubbornly sit at the side of his bed.  "What's the point to all of this? I just want to sleep!"
     The alarm goes off again and not realising that he dozed off, the alarm came at a surprise. This time he knew he had to get up. "Ah! To hell with it all!" He grunted as he stood up in his loose briefs that have lost their snug and tight fit. He grabs his phone and sees that it is on twenty percent, aggravated that he forgot to put it in charge, he quickly connects it to the charger. As he connects it to the charger, he chooses his morning playlist and also connects his phone to his speaker, which is sitting next to the shower. He loves listening to music in the shower.
     The loud music is always a welcoming way for him to wake up,  especially when he finds a song that he fancies to be suitable for the moment. But being in the current situation, he knows that if he is hindered by anything, like what song to pick, he is going to be late. Fortunately one of his favourite songs started playing. Swim Good by Frank Ocean.
     He steps into the shower, which is not a tub, but a stand up shower with two sliding glass doors. He is standing at the far distance, away from where the shower head is. The water came out as rapid as it needed to be, always synchronising him with the pace of reality. It takes about a good minute for the water to transition from cold to hot so the cold sprinkle itself also had an exhilarating effect on him. He was starting to wake up.
     "Ok, one, two, three!" He jumped under the water as it was still cold. "Oh! Oh! Ok. Oh! Brrrr!" Each second under the cold water coming down felt like an eternity, the anticipation of the cold water turning hot made him feel as if it was never going to happen. Wondering if he needed to hop out and wait, he decided to ride out the storm, after all, there was not much time left.
    Finally the warmth started to creep its way in, by that time the shampoo was already applied to his full head of thick black hair. He put a couple of squirts of body wash on the loofah and quickly scrubbed down his whole body. Then with one last rinse, he rinsed off both his hair and his body. Less than five minutes and he was out of the shower. Drying himself as quickly as possible, wrapping the towel around his waste, creating a firm knot by overlapping and tucking in the corner edge of the towel then firmly folding it over,  he puts on some deodorant and brushes his teeth in a haste.
     "Six fifty-five? Shit!" He knows he only has five more minutes before he has to be out of the house. It takes him less than fifteen minutes to get there, so as long as he leaves in the next five minutes, he will be fine.
     He runs into his room, feeling foolishly proud seeing that he prepared his work clothe last night before he went to bed. Putting on a fresh and clean pair of briefs, which is one of his favourite feelings, he hurriedly continues dressing and puts on his black pants and then his undershirt. He runs back to the bathroom and takes some conditioner and squeezes some on the palm of his hands. Rubbing both palms together in slow circles gradually turning them into bigger circles, he then applies the conditioner to his hair. Seeing that his hair is at a stage where it's not long enough to have a specific look, and not short enough to be considered clean, he realised that he was due for a haircut. Having no time to waste, he settles on an unfitting comb-over style look, running back to his room, he puts on his thick clean white shirt that is quite aged. Seeing some stains caused by the excessive amount of chlorine that this shirt has taken, he quickly scans his closet to see if there is another shirt. "Whatever, this will do!" He finishes buttoning his shirt and starts searching for clean socks. After a brief unsuccessful moment, he gave up looking and found two old mismatched socks, playfully smiling to himself he says, "It suits my character!"
     The clock was at 7:01 A.M. and it is time to leave. He grabs his shoes, tries to force them on, realising that the shoes are tied, he stubbornly tries to force both his feet in. After a short strenuous effort, he gives up and unties his shoes, easily slips in both of his feet. That quick fit annoyed him. It made him feel his own childish stubbornness in a way that his father would always point out. To Jalen his fathers input was always from an unnecessary, hind-sighted, observational stance. Just as he was thinking of his father and how he felt his fathers imaginary input as being 'unnecessary', he felt himself saying this from a spiteful place. His father is a great man.
     "Keys, keys, where are my keys!" screaming out loud knowing for sure that he is really running late. The clock reads 7:05 A.M. He finds his keys on his night stand. "Great! I can still make it!"
     Sun shining in his face with a low hanging overcast, he is in too much of a hurry to see what an incredible day it is outside. He jumps in his red chevy cavalier, four-door stick-shift, he puts it in reverse and takes off a little faster than he should've, skidding off his front driveway.
      "All right, just take it easy, you're gonna get there," he says to himself as if he is comforting a person that was in a similar situation and he's the bystander that is completely indifferent to the situation. As he is enters the main road he started searching his pockets for his phone.
     "I just need to call and tell them I'm running about five minutes late, FUCK WHERE IS MY PHONE?"

     Then it happened. A sudden impact! A loud crash! A sound as if five thousand soda cans were crunched all once! There was a brief moment of silence, less than a second, then the sound of large tires screeching followed by two more loud crashing sounds, the first crashing sound was as if a thousand plates where shattered all at once and the following sound was as if a hard plastic was being rolled over all the shattered glass. Silence swept the scene of the accident for a still moment. No body moved, all that was heard was leaking from the engines, the slow crackling from the broken glass.
     Jalen felt his consciousness being disconnected from what his eyes were telling him. He was wondering if he had just now woken up from a dream. But it cannot be, why would he be here? In his car, trapped as he's feeling squeezed in between two hard objects. The first thing that he started to notice was the loud hissing noise as if something was steaming at a high temperature. He didn't understand, he couldn't understand.
    "Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Are you okay?" a bystander was screaming at him. Yet he doesn't know what meaning these words hold. "Am I breathing?" he asked himself, still confused as to what's happening. He tried to breathe through his nose but he he couldn't and didn't understand why he couldn't. Then he tried to take a breath through his mouth, a little air managed to pass, as if a drop of water was given to a person that was dying of thirst, his mouth being so dry that that one drop disappeared before making any impact. The thought of not being able to breathe started making him panic, feeling a sense of clueless confusion, a horrifying fear built up that send a terrifying chill all down his spine when all the sudden....
     A deep gasp for air! Everything became alive again! He went from being unable to breathe to hyperventilating. He started to connect that the voice that was talking, was intended for him. "Can you hear me?" He wanted to respond but as he tried to form a sentence, he groaned in agonising pain realising that his jaw was shattered to pieces and that each movement made him feel the true extent of it. All the noise that came out was a low and painful groan, "Awwrghh"
     The position he was in finally showed itself, almost mockingly. He felt that this was a sick joke being played on him, still not understanding the gravity of the situation. Trying to understand what position he was in, he made an effort to push or pull himself in a direction, then realising that the car was on its side and that his left arm was trapped under the car and that there was no way he could move.
    He looked on the ground which was to his immediate left, closed his eyes and laid his head down on the hard street. His right arm was broken, perfectly snapped with both the radius and ulna piercing through the skin making itself visible. Opening his eyes to look at what made him close his eyes in the first place, his puddle of blood. That deep, dark and enchanting red blood that was soaking in the cement was gushing from his cracked skull. Jalen realised he was dying.
     At first he thought of his best friend! "What would he say? But what am I thinking? Is this really it?" Losing sight of his confusion, he was conflicted in whether he should be resistant or allow the force of nature to brutally have its way. He felt nature's indifference, its complete air of disregard. "But why? I.... I have... my life! My sweet life that I..... fair? No point... so there's no point? What shall I make of this?" He was thinking to himself believing that he was speaking out loud, as if he was making a case to God. As if finding out you overpaid for an item seconds after you made the deal, he felt himself bargaining a price as if he already shook God's hand. He felt desperately pathetic, but what else was left for him to do?
     "I do not care for her love! I do not care.... for my life! I only.... wish... to live! To.. to be better! I was not better but.... this!?" A heavy weight was pressing itself on him and he felt its cruel intention.
      Briefly regaining his sense, he was disturbed at the fact that he thought about 'her love'. "She was never.. there. And I.... But I was... I was an honest person..... wasn't I? Evil never... corrupted my soul.... did it? Is this why? I don't... I don't...." Gasping for air then coughing, blood surfaced from his throat and the cough started shaking his jaw. That sharp pain which was so disdained a moment ago, was the only thing left now that had any worth to him. He knew it was one of the last true feelings that were left for him to feel.
     "Spare me.. I don't know.. I never knew.. I..... it cannot be!"
     At that moment it was as if he heard and felt a smile, filled with grace and warmth, assuring him, that 'yes it is'. Like seeing a first grader fear the results of their first test, knowing they failed, the teacher smiles knowing that even that failure and the feeling that comes from it, is meaningless. Because this experience is only a platform that needs to be created so the next step can be taken. The teacher smiles because the teacher knows what the first grader is unable to understand, that there is so much left.
     Jalen felt this stream of thought, this line of reasoning, all in a flash of a moment, he was worried about embracing this feeling because he was afraid it would be embraced in falsehood, only for the sake of ending the tortured situation that he was forsaken in. Was there actually a God that was smiling at him, a God that was completely indifferent to his now augmented and crushed physical appearance, a God that was caressing the purity of the soul that lay within?
     "But those were your choices God! Not mine! You made me, where was my... where was my choice! I know I... but.. this can't... no... but all those that have forsaken.... that you have.. forsaken....?" His head was hit with another callous force, as if intending to say 'I don't have to wait on you, make your peace'.
    Jalen thought about his mom, his blessed-cursed-dysfunctional personality that he got from her. His father and his charming broad smile that had such pleasant and polite touch, with a constantly anxious undertone always beneath his teeth, always afraid of upsetting anyone, he simply had a heart of gold. He knew his heart was like his fathers, only his fathers heart was bigger and brighter. It was only up until this moment that he finally allowed the brightness of his fathers love to shine through his own heart. Then he thought of his late grandfather.
      "My grandfather..... well... wherever he went... I shall go there too... even if it's nowhere then I shall be.. nowhere with my grandfather...." he thought to himself feeling himself smiling. As if he was joking with God. He felt God let him have his laugh, just as comic relief is needed before serious moments, a moment where both sides pretend that what's about to happen, isn't going to happen.
     Then there was a shift, whether it be from God, or from his momentary break from his delirium. He truely felt the gravity of the situation, he was trying to accept his mortality.
     He felt tears rush to his eyes, he felt a horror strike its way to the heart, the heart that felt so much bliss just a moment ago. "I don't wanna die! Please... God... I swear... I'll... I'll be better.. I'm sorry! I know.. I could've but.... please I don't... it's not fair!" He felt himself lowering into cowardice, but he didn't care. Just as a young boy seeking for his mothers mercy, he came across as a child simple afraid of punishment.
     "But I never believed until now! But how do I know I believe now? Is there? Why should there be? I've been good... haven't I?
     He coughed again except this time the sharp pain made him momentarily lose consciousness. In that brief moment he was back home, at his families house. He felt that he was in a place that was both the past and the future, yet he didn't question whether it was a dream or if it was real. He was simply in a blissful state.
     The place that he was taken too was a distinct memory of his past. Jalen was a kid, no older than thirteen. Jalen was just getting up for breakfast. He left his room wearing a pair of old basketball shorts and no shirt, he plopped down on a chair located at the side of the table furthest from the head of the table, where his dad sat. Everyone at the breakfast table paused and stared and Jalen.
     Jalen never wore shirts around the house, he loved to walk around shirtless. This was forcefully accepted among the family regardless of the father thinking that it was not proper house etiquette. Though the father found a way to accept this habit of Jalen's, one time Jalen felt brave enough to test his limits and decided that for family breakfast, Jalen was going to sit with no shirt. As soon as Jalen sat, everyone turned quiet for a moment, Jalen's father giving him a stern look. Finally, Jalen's father reproachfully said, "I shouldn't have to tell you this because you should already know that on the dining table you must dress appropriately!" So after being scolded, Jalen went to his room and put a shirt on and returned to the dining table and finished his breakfast quietly. This is the real ending.
     Now that he is reliving this distinct memory, now that he sat down again at the dining table for breakfast, shirtless, Jalen is curiously looking around wondering if this has happened before? It wasn't quite like deja vu, mainly because of the fact that he wasn't sure if he was awake or not.
     His father is staring at him deeply, as if he is trying to surface any guilt that needed to be brought out, but there was none. His fathers deep and pensive stare transitioned from all its seriousness into a mirthful smile, one that he's never seen on his father. His mother was glowing with such a tender smile, staring at her husband, her slim and delicate hands grasping each other, her eyes twinkling with a sense of accomplishment as if to say 'I knew it the whole time!' Jalen didn't understand any of it, but he felt closure, approval, and a reassuring sense that he was indeed a wholesome person. He looked down at himself and he wasn't shirtless anymore, he was now dressed in a black suit, pressed white shirt, stiff collar, thick black suit jacket, fresh black shoes. His black shoes were polished to perfection, and for some reason he was fixated on the reflection that was visible off the tip of his shoe. As he was staring at the glare on the tip of his shoe, a few rain drops landed on his shoe, exactly on the part his eyes were fixated on. He then turns his head to the sky and felt the rain drops gently fall on his face.
     He regains consciousness, he finds himself in the ruin that he was last left in but this time he felt that he wouldn't be here long. There is no fighting it, he was happier on the other side. This side had its dance. He felt no attachment to this world, he only felt death. Then there was rain.
     The rain was trickling down the right side of the car which was facing the sky. The rain made its way on his cracked skull, slightly diluting the thickness of his dark red blood. The sensation he felt from the rain made him grow a sudden reattachment to the living world, he didn't want this to be his final memory. He did not want to say goodbye. Just as he thought he was ready to go, that there was nothing left for him, a few raindrops falling on him was enough to turn his finalised mind against him within moments.
    "How weak we are! How weak I am! I want to live. I'm not ready to die! I'm not ready to die..."

     Jalen was announced dead at the scene of the accident. He was driving at normal speed as he crossed a main street. A semi truck driver, who was late for a delivery and was on his final warning, tried to catch a left turn. He was only worried about oncoming traffic. As Jalen was looking for his phone, never taking his eyes off the road, he saw that there were no cars ahead of him waiting at the red led. Just as he was about to slow down, the light turned green, seeing that the road ahead was clear, he felt he had a quick second to look for his phone. He instantly realised he left it on the charger. Just as he was angry at himself recalling that he left the phone connected to the charger, the semi truck plowed through him from the left side, instantly smashing against his head, cracking it open. Jalen's car flipped twice and because Jalen wasn't wearing a seatbelt, he bounced around vigorously inside of his car shattering and breaking multiple bones. His arm being stuck under the car was irrelevant due to the fact that his head injury upon impact was so severe that there was no saving him. It was simply his time to go and so he went.

May you never find a moment of peace in your life

I never believed in the idea of closure. When I needed it the most, it always found a way to skip right passed me. How things always seem to fall into place for other people, leaving me feeling as if it will never be. Destiny can be a cruel concept once despair has taken a firm grip.

I have recently travelled around the world, three destinations. It could all have been more colourful. I revisited my most recently revisited past, to see if matters of the past were still where they should be. To my surprise, not much did shift, finding this nonexistent closure, that I refused to believe, to actually exist. But who's to say anything really. The one that's so resolute regarding a matter is as fanatic as the ignorant. There is no changing the course of history, or the direction of the future. All we can affect is the present moment. Unfortunately even that seems to be a dying art, and I hate to sound redundant regarding that matter. As if 'back then' is always better than the 'now'. Such a sad song sung by the mind that has abandoned hope of any kind. Maybe I simply fantasise that a time did exist where humanity was present, not dwelling the past nor anxious regarding the future. I do not hope for such a time to return, that would just be a waste of hope. Clearly that day will never return, if it even happened to actually exist in the first place.

I have lived my life allowing my passion to steer my soul forward or in circles. I never wanted to deprive myself of any experience, impulse being my heroin. Where am I now to where I was? Can I say I am the same person? What has changed? Why has it changed? It's hard to answer these questions not because the answers are difficult to put into words, but simply because the questions themselves are invalid. It is impossible to change, we can be the person we wish to be at the cost of living in hypocrisy. Who can bear the weight? I know I can't. Does true pleasure lie within indulgence of ones desire with complete disregard of surrounding? Or is there a connection between the source and the recipient that not only fulfils but rather enhances the experience of desires that one can wish. The thrill where one willingly sacrifices oneself for only you, letting their need be your most vicious demand. Without disregard? Such a rare fruit.

I spent three nights in Vegas. It was single handedly the biggest waste of my time. I was so excited to go that I had reoccurring dreams prior to my departure. I had dreams of me walking through casino's, strolling past all the noise coming from the roulette tables, hearing that tiny little ball spin in the opposite direction of the wheel, holding my breath, anticipating how the devil will toy with the results this time. Was the thrill as satiable as I imagined? Unfortunately, or fortunately all the nonsense has lost its flavour. The thrill of wanting to indulge is more satisfying than the actual act. For example. Whenever I haven't smoked a cigarette in, let's say a week, and I decide that I am going to buy a pack just to smoke one cigarette, the aftermath is always the same. Once I have made the decision to actually go and buy cigarettes, immediately I am filled with a satisfaction as if I have already indulged! This feeling of accomplishment, this proud feeling of doing the opposite finds its way through me, justifying it all! Then I'm at the store, I have purchased a pack, telling myself I will enjoy one cigarette with nice hot cappuccino, watching the sky change its colour as the sun descends into its nightly rest, or ascend to commence its daily duties. One out of ten times that first drag hits the spot, every puff after the first drag starts to have a decaying effect. The meditative mindset I try to establish as I take in each drag, followed by a sip of coffee, starts counterbalancing each other. Yet sometimes, just sometimes, it's right where I want it to be. But I am convinced that this idea of it 'sometimes' being 'just right' is the delusion I choose to believe only to make sure that there is always going to be a search for that satisfying moment that comes with indulging in ones selfish desires. Does it actually exist? No.

So what exists that can feed our needs. Does the soul speak through our basic senses? If consciousness exists only because of our senses, then eating when you're hungry, sleeping when you're tired, should be enough. But it isn't. Why does there need to be more? I'll just let philosophers argue that point from an outside stance while I try and work my way through the thickness of the concept.

I find that it is always the most undisciplined mindsets that demand for harsh measures to be taken and the most disciplined minds that demand moderation and balance. When going on a diet, the prior will starve themselves, take themselves to extreme measures, overcompensating in order to achieve results in a short amount of time. The latter understands perseverance, it all cannot be achieved in one day. I believe in order for change to exist, it has to be drastic. But is it the application that has to be drastic or simply the mindset? Perhaps a combination of both but understanding the path combined with the length of the journey will always help to keep things in good perspective. So mindset first, then application. But how do we create discipline? I did by changing my four walls.

When I turned 27, I remembered that it was the most anxious year of my life. It has been indoctrinated in society to think that people are old at a very young age, that people have simply "passed their prime'. I found myself being tangled by this large net. I went from being a 'baby' to dreadfully all the sudden becoming 'old'. I let it weigh me down to the point where I became fully paralysed. In the grand scheme of things, what does any of that matter? I spent my whole childhood and early twenties trying to figure out what I wanted to do and I knew it was going to take some time and I owed nobody an explanation except myself. Here I am being crumbled by the weight of society which I disregarded my whole life, so how do I suddenly feel that whatever window I was looking for, is now shut. How did the script flip so quickly?

It is pointless to worry, to compare myself, wondering why I haven't made the progress I wanted, seeing others rise to the position that I saw myself being at by this time. Every step I took, I felt as if  I was behind, feeling the need to overcompensate for all the lost time. It took a while for me to slow the world down. It was time to surrender time itself. How did the the idea that I never gave any weight to, all the sudden, become my downfall. Then there was this breaking point, who the fuck cares. In a positive way.

My goal is simple, I want to create my own comedy show. If it takes ten years, five years, whatever, the key is to always keep moving towards that goal. Letting time weigh myself down became the biggest waste of time on its own. I stopped caring if I slacked some days. I look for other ways to utilise my time. (By the way, since I'm in Australia, it is forcing me to spell words that I have spelled a certain way my whole life differently. I hate it. utilize/utilise color/colour stuuuupid) I have increased the amount of books I read. When I get tired of reading books, I work on my jigsaw puzzle, when I get tired of that, I work on writing screenplays, when I get bored with that, I work on writing this blog, when I've exhausted myself with my own thoughts, I'm self teaching myself the piano (which I definitely need to buy an actual piano because I'm learning a song right now without a pedal and when I tried to play that song on a regular piano instead of this dinky keyboard, it sounded horrible), and when I'm not working on learning a new song, I try and create a beat, once that beat is done, now I can work on lyrics and when the lyrics seem redundant I shall refresh it all and create a new meaning through retrospect and write a poem. When I've exhausted my mind will all the brain exercises, I go outside and actually exercise. I'm in the best shape that I have been in the last ten years. Maybe even in the best shape of my life.

I spent about a fraction of my time working on my actual goal, creating this comedy show. But everything I am doing is supporting this creation. I have time to hang out and shoot the shit with people. Yet the truth is, I don't want to hang out with you anymore. All you've ever done is slow me down. Sure this comes off as arrogant, but if you're not receiving the positivity of this whole message then perhaps the negativity is coming from within. I highly believe that blowing steam is crucial for the mind, and how its done varies from person to person. How I blow steam is through sports now. I cannot say that my bender days are over, a part of me does wish it to be. Yet I cannot speak for the future simply because no one can. I cannot play your sidekick role anymore, I've played it my whole life. Only to realise that I'm the catalyst to your life, my raw energy is being used by you. Why weren't you giving anything back? My selflessness has been my strength and probably my biggest flaw. I do not care for your love, it doesn't exist. Show me its presence, I promise you it will be returned back three times the amount. You can feel my love, without feeling its empty place once its gone. The void I feel is meant for only me to fill. One day I will get there and I will not look back at those people who didn't believe in me with a boastful sense, with an air of significance. Your doubt has never been fuel for me, it only has made me feel pity. I am not saddened that you cannot see what I see. How can I prove to you what is real when I have yet to prove it to myself. I want nothing more but to manifest my vision into this reality, because what the fuck else is there for me to do?

I am so tired of hearing, whatever is meant to be will be. The only thing that is meant to be is the past. Everything else is up for grabs, for me the key is to always keep moving my feet. My emotions can weigh very heavily at times, it has made me fall on my face over and over again. I cannot say that it gets easier getting back up, but it does get better.



I am not destined for a single direction because I feel like I'm going all over the place,
and what's so wrong about that?

Have I Grown Just To Stay Exactly The Same?

I am the voice
A sensation
A resonating thought
From a whisper
Growing infinite
To the strength
Breaking barriers
Shaped to hold me apart from the feeling that I let flow with ease.
To look up
not to look down
To forget the past
To let it all go
The Purpose of having moments of regret
are hard to comprehend
When justifying the means
For the inevitable end
My friend
I have held you so high in regards that you do not deserve
I refuse to hold myself to the standard I deserve
I place you higher
Why?
I let you step forward
I let you, my power just for me to be transitioned into a powerless state.

I hate that

Hate, I feel in regards to a few things.

My own submissiveness, The part of me that exists with such a resentful wish
given by only your breath.
What is it you seek?
Not a thought passes through your mind where you think of me.

I am completely isolated from your soul,
I yearn to connect with something
someone yet not just anyone
Leading a life where I am headed towards despair and wholesome loneliness

Do i really seek comfort?
From this life that holds absolutely no meaning.
Really its only a secret that you hide from yourself

You hide behind religion,
the unseen
the god that lifts my spirits

The spirits that exists because you see it

Nonsense To me
everything for you.

What is it I want
Simply everything my ego screams and demands for.

A human is simple.

Food sex and comfort.

the complexities have risen in acquiring finer things, finer sex, finer food, finer comfort

beyond anything else how do we prove otherwise?

The humbled servant of god that denounces their own nature, their own desire, the selfless life of true piety, if it even exists.

To surrender to give up, to not make the world a better place.

Feeling as if not contributing or not taking part in anything IS the best for this world.

Simply pass as never having passed, just to be as meaningless as existence itself.
To leave no marks, letting evil, that god created for the sake of lessons that need to be taught, just be.

It's all justified, every sin.

Every division.

Where is the meaning you seek?

What do we do to not give in to ourselves?

Why shouldn't we? What's the questions you ask? What reason does it have?

Where is my freedom
the consciousness I carry confuses me, I want to be simple, But I am simple, it's just my own perception of my genius that causes confusion. A true delusion!

I believe it!
My greatness! That I am too humble to admit too!

Isn't that what makes me truly an intelligent person?

The simultaneous awareness of my enlightenment alongside with how it coincides with humanity.

How my delusion fits no part of any puzzle because I am just one person in a small corner of the world trying to see greatness in my attempts to only distract myself from me ageing
and that inevitable void. That I so welcome, with patience because of the visions that I have

That I see myself among these stars
that are placed for us to idealize and to make us never feel content with what we have.
How can I want a life that I know doesn't  give me happiness.

But I know it does.

To be great at what I do,
Just to talk about wanting to do it.
Never doing it.
Afraid of failure so I sit and stay away.

A thousand reasons to not be happy.

I do not deserve it.

How selfless of me.

My mind is split into parts, where I see everything from the other perspective but never from the point within.

We spawn into this life, our eyes translate reality
our mind interprets
yet we see it all different

How?
Why?
We wage war because I am right and you are wrong.

We choose not to participate because neither is right or wrong.


My weakness wouldn't allow me to be strong.
What a simple way to put it.

You breathe easy and let me carry your struggles
You enjoy the life I wish I had
While I carry the misfortunes.

Grab the women I sought to fill baseness
Letting me feel jealous of never having felt what you indulge in.

I hate that feeling yet I let it hit me in the face

Like falling to the floor and tasting dirt

an inferior complex way of having a reality check

To be indifferent through delusion.

How do I feel so disconnected in a world where I claim I feel so much?

Every one of my senses is wide awake.

I have stopped numbing myself, this is my reawakening
and its pointless really.

I liked myself better as a drunk.
I could make that argument.

What the fuck are you looking at?
I don't have scars. Just one. Repetitive.

Play along just to be part of love.

To stand up and denounce just to lose the warmth that I denied.
Seems backwards.

I really wish I could believe in god.

But how could I if all this is so ridiculous.

I'm translating my visions into an unrealistic reality.
There is nothing else left for us to do, then to always stay true.

Us Men Are Plagued By Sex

This is my choice

These are my feelings

Plain, empty at times

Meaningless, the envy I hold to those that love life with such ease

Only at times when I feel the most crippled

The only constant in my life is that my mood will always fluctuate

Today I feel better, with the sun rising I can say that I do

I am not in love anymore

I am not in love with you

My senses have become dull

How lustful I am

Searching for such meaning 

Within non-existing hands

I do not need her to be there

I only wish for the search

That small glimpse of hope

Washed away 

Melting into another day

There is no you

You never were

It was always me

Projecting the feelings I yearn

From the deepest parts of my soul

Feeling it all shift

With heaviness 

I cannot bear this

Excruciating pain, that is eternally promised in hell

An abstract thought meant to keep me in line

I stand up, I have never given in

It was always my weakness in character that allowed the strong to sin

Moments of shame, 

Letting whoever step on my name

With memories flickering in the back of my brain

To feel the hunger, why watch them eat?

I've made a fool of myself

A thought to be forgotten, how easy they sleep

I have accepted defeat

And I will never surrender

Let death have it's day

But I am not walking that way

Evil prevails, such a melody it has

That makes everyone dance

The undeniable charm

Of unhidden flaws

The jealousy that I have

That I cannot break you apart

And the one that can

The person that wills

Is petty, just as much as me

Just standing on different sides 

Facing each other 

You can care less

Eyes at my side wondering about the weight of my pockets

My eye is on you, the justification behind the eyes

The voice that gives you life

The will that makes you draw breath

What repetition of thought do you suffer from, is it like mine?

I view myself strong, as a lie to hide that I am weak

Just like the lie where I tell myself

I do not give into my baseness because I am better than that

Truth be told

I cannot give into my baseness because I lack strength

The way I see the one that can 

To eat, to conquer flesh and blood

All at once, flaunt their victory

At the eyes of the inferior

At people like me, wishing to be same

I don't have what it takes

I believe that you are a moron, while you devour your pray

To be bland

Simple and plain

Talk about regular things, the weather, or how was your day?

How everything comes back to the fact of me wanting to get laid

Is this what I am?

Just a guy, out of touch, typing away

Claiming to be better, noble, turning my face

I feel arrogant when I denounce your actions

I feel hypocritical, she gives it all to you, nothing me

I do not 'nothing' your existence

I just pretend that I do

Wrapping all my time around the idea of denying what's true

I have secretly admired the cruel

For the strength of their disregard

Skulls thick or thin

One side watching while the other enjoying

I justify, I am better

That my vile thoughts are under control

Only because how?

That I am a man that feels life pump its blood 

Through the coldest red lips that bleeds when it tears

Words spoken from the heart 

Letting my genuine spark

Emit its glow

It's okay that people like you will steal the show

With a million gazes

Watching and admiring

The way I have done in secret

I wish to rid myself of my vanity

I want you to keep it

Dreaming of my head held by clouds floating away with my laughter staying in place

How difficult life is

A tremendous weight created by a word spoken out of place

Standing and climbing, tired I've grown

Feeling guilty when resting, what can I show

The time that I've tried to gather success

The only result is a disorganised mess 

But who is to say

And who is to blame?

Everything tangled slowly started decaying

A similar pattern growing shorter and shorter

A familiar place while the air is not fresh

The excitement of new

A day turning blue

The disappointment of structure

The melancholy of discipline

Growing tired of routine

A shorter route for chasing my dream 

It does not exist

This is a true step

Then comes the next

Then comes new breath

The promise of change

Is the fulfilment of each day

Fighting laziness at every moment

Admitting to my own jealousy

Releasing my pettiness

Embracing my baseness

My vile and crude thoughts

Letting my vanity rid itself by each accomplishment I make

I am a human, poisoned by sex.

If that is all that I want, then what is the meaning to this?

There is no meaning at all

That is what I believe

For some that is not enough

I have life, how much more does there need to be?

I'm Going Back to 505

So then,
shall I start with the repetitiveness?
The irony behind traveling to a third world country just to stay at the fanciest hotel only to be among the same rich people?
But there is no point to that, this is how it will be and this is how it always has been. An angry rant isn't going to stop the rich folks from flaunting their luxury to those that cannot afford that lifestyle. For those who can afford but choose not to, I imagine there lies real content.

I spent five nights in Bali. I traveled by myself. This was my first time traveling solo and I had a lot of mixed feelings regarding how this experience would go. I definitely got what I wanted. To lose myself in a foreign city, live through moments of despair, act reckless, seemingly invincible at times, and mostly, to find something amidst all the chaos. The answer I received through all of this was that there is no answer.

The moments where I sought comfort were immediately followed by "If only it could have been like this". As my back was leaning against the railing of the upper deck of the boat sailing across the bluest ocean that I've ever laid my eyes upon, through all the grandness that I was swallowed in, I still had the same pestering thought, "If only I could adjust a little bit so my ass isn't so stiff" or "If this railing was just aligned differently so maybe I'll move over slightly to the left and move my back closer to the railing to sit at a more upward position, that'll take some pressure off my lower back, which is starting to get sore." This trip was a breakthrough moment realizing how much the emotional state of my existence was dependent on my immediate desire for the smallest ways to find comfort. I could not blame someone else for why things were not up to par at any given moment.

At the airport while I was going through custom, it took about two hours of waiting in line to get checked across. There were eight available desks that could've checked in all the arriving passengers. There was only one person working. Maybe I found comfort in sensing the utter disbelief from all the needy people, hearing their anger from all different sides, the genius of solutions provided by their advanced minds, "Well if they know that this is the time passengers arrive, then more people should be working. Gasp. I just don't understand" Wow, the world needs more people like you to have all the solutions and surprisingly the world actually does. Yet it's not solutions we need, everyone already knows the solution to any problem. It's the application.

I got out of the airport and there were a million people looking to take me to my hotel the long way, with no meter, wanting to up-charge me out the ass. Bali is meant to be a cheap country, which I could agree for the most part it was, but if you want to live more on the wild side, less than a grand will do. For five nights that is. The driver was recommended by my brother, which I will never use again. I was charged about 200K which is about 20 AUD maybe like 16 USD. Which I learned is a lot, because later I found that another person simply walked from the airport to the Hostel that I stayed in. Also, the cab that I got when I left, from the Hostel to the airport, was 20K, two whole dollars. Regardless of the facts, the show goes on.

Once I arrived at my Hostel, I checked in, dropped my bag in the locker that they gave me, and headed out. I walked around aimlessly wanting to get lost so that I become more acquainted with the area, which I think makes sense? I found a little store which had a "buy three get one beer free" which I immediately took advantage of not forgetting to mention that a pack of cigarettes ran for about a dollar and change. I sat at the front of the store, on a busy street, enjoying each sip of my drink. The store clerk allowed me to keep the other three in the fridge keeping my beers nice and cold. Nice guy. Each beer wasn't a typical 12 ounce guy, It was them big boys, I imagine 24 ounces? Who cares. I enjoyed his reaction when he realized I'm drinking all four by myself in a span of an hour. I drank and smoked, people-watched and tried to understand the hustle and bustle, realizing it was all the same compared to other places around the world that offered madness and chaos. Once I reached my last beer,I got up feeling the buzz on an empty stomach and started frolicking around the streets. All the shops are shoulder to shoulder with the store clerks sitting on the floor at the front penetrating your soul with a desire to make eye contact. This can be the most intrusive part of the trip, constantly being hassled, but I enjoyed this aspect of it. Gracefully moving along at a fast pace ignoring everything I felt being pressed on me from all angles. Some store clerks would stand about 20 paces from their store, start walking and talking with you up until they arrived at the footsteps of their store, managing to slip and stand in front of you trying to force you into their shop. I no punk bitch you punk bitch!

I found my way to the beach and the sight at first was a tad bit disappointing. Overcrowded with brown sand, people packed next to each other laying on the beach with street merchants all around. It wasn't the serene beach with tranquility that I expected although later I found out that this is just the Kuta vibe. Or lack of vibe. I started glancing at all the restaurants, their options and prices, and decided I can wait until later to have my first meal. I can utilize my time and walk all around Kuta till I've seen the borders of the place where vacationers stay. Leaving the beach I decided to walk the opposite direction. Once I walked inland for about 45 minutes, I realized I reached the edge of the hustle and bustle and I also realized I was lost. I tried to follow my nose and find my way back to the Hostel which was very close to the beach, but my nose wasn't working. So it seemed. After inching my way back slowly while walking in circles, I started realizing I was seeing the same stores, reaching them from different angles. Maybe after an hour or so of trying to get back, I was finally blessed by the sight of the multi-gray colored bricks that shaped the outside wall which now gave me the sentimental feeling of home. I reached my Hostel. I walked up the narrow stairway, my bed being on the fifth floor, I climbed up to the top bunk, and dropped my head. I was exhausted. I only slept about four hours on the previous night but even then when I laid my head down, I immediately was pressed with the thought, "Why are you laying in bed? Go check out the rooftop! You can sleep when you're dead"

The roof top was just the next floor up and still having a nice buzz I waltzed right in with drunken confidence. I saw people who seemed to be from all over the world sitting in groups or by themselves with their head up ready to mingle. Which was nice. I started talking to three Italian boys, they were all avocado farmers in Australia getting ready to head back for avocado season. I met them on their last night. We continued drinking and laughing together and soon made dinner plans and headed out to an Italian restaurant, which wasn't my top choice, and on the way over I exchanged my money and somehow lost 50 dollars. That sick feeling in your gut that you get from losing money only lingered for a brief moment. I can care less about money lost. A dutch boy Juep joined as well. He might've been the youngest one, also a bit arrogant, but maybe that was only because he was younger and didn't want to come off as a kid, so maybe he felt he had to keep a straight face. Regardless he was confidently social and at times on his phone detaching himself from the social circle. To me sleeping on a vacation is the same as being on your phone, pointless. Not to say he wasn't a nice guy.

So the Italians and I got along great! Discussed politics, which we all animatedly decided was the best and quickest way to judge character. Normally I wouldn't agree, but in the moment it seemed most suitable. We talked  about the world and the lack of reason it had in regards to impoverished areas residing next to rich and supposedly holy landmarks. The Vatican, Mecca, etc. I'm sure there are lots more. I got a liter of red house wine which I felt was suitable for the occasion. After all, I was dining with Italians.

Now it was time to head back to the room because their flight was leaving at midnight. About 9:30 we got back, and I was surprised when I said goodbye to my Italian friends. I felt sadness which humored me. I know the feeling was driven by alcohol but regardless, I saw them off being happy to have met them.

Now dutch boy and I are looking at each other, and I saw the hunger in his eyes, the urge to go out. I had to be awake the following morning at 7:30 AM, I was a bit hesitant. Then the same thought came back, "You can sleep when you're dead". So it was decided, we shower, freshen up and head out to the party strip, the heart of Kuta's reputation, drunken debauchery. We both left the Hostel, evidently drunk, I followed him to the strip, he seemed to know the way and I wasn't paying attention to how we got there. Which later on became a problem, but  turned out to be for the best. As we went from one club to the other, we start running into locals who wanted to play pool for free, but lets put some money down. I immediately walked away laughing, just glad I knew better.

The music was blasting and I could only hold back so much. I jumped right up on stage and starting shaking my ass for the world to see. The dutch boy seemed a bit hesitant but maybe after watching me pave the way he immediately joined the party. Soon we stumbled out after having a few more drinks and rolled next door which was yet another club. Dutch boy said he had some lady friends that were meeting up with him. They were also staying at the same hostel. As the night transgressed and the girls joined, I seemed to stray away from Dutch boy and the German girls. Not to say that we weren't all dancing together for a while. It's just how the cards unfolded that evening. The night was just as it is anywhere else in the world, people feeling stuck not knowing how to let loose, waiting to get drunk enough for that moment to grip them, to give them the courage to live free and dance without feeling a million judgmental gazes. Whether these judgmental gazes actually exist, my mind had a way of creating these thoughts. What am I doing? I feel stupid. I feel dumb. I'm by myself and this doesn't feel right. For the first part of the night I was feeling more detached, alone, and isolated.

I lost track of time, the more I felt stuck, the more I kept dancing fighting past the feeling of society dictating how I should act in such settings. The dance floor wasn't packed and yet the club was filled, so when I was dancing I was dancing by myself on an empty dance floor. I used it as an opportunity, I felt the mental struggle, an obstacle to climb, a way for me to get lost in the moment by fighting past whatever feeling was building in my mind.

The night escalated, the time kept slipping, I forgot all about my early departure to Ubud the next day, I was a driving force on the dance floor. I never wanted to leave. I finally found my freedom. There were some interesting characters that night. Balinese boy with no shirt, which I imagine is the Bali version of a go-go dancer trying to get the ladies involved. I found it quite humorous. As soon as some ladies got on the dance floor, Balinese boy was the first to beyond hover and press his petite slippery wet frame upon the ladies, which made the ladies panic and laugh.

One of the guys felt my presence maybe threatening and started challenging me on my moves, but as the night progressed I paid no attention to the challenge and my moves only became more fierce. What can I say, I like to dance. Then through the thickness of the night, through the fog in the air, through the strobe lights flashing, through the herd of people that finally found enough courage to start dancing, these two round eyes through all the madness met mine. I looked and smiled then kept dancing, I looked again and this time these eyes held more hunger than before, then as if a magnet dictated my movement I surrendered to the force greater than me. I got close to her and she took one step towards me, we danced, she smiled, grinding her body on me, dropping her body looking seductively up in my eyes, grabbing my hands placing them on her hips, my face pressed now against her body, I was in the middle of a thousand people not feeling anything except for this devil in front of me. She grabbed me all over and I admit she was a handful as well. In all the places that mattered. I'll be honest, I've heard a lot of talk about lady boys being in the mix among girls here, so I took advantage of the time when we both got handsy, turns out, it was all in my head bro.

It hit a point where I felt where it was time to go! I grabbed her by the arm signaling to go somewhere else, somewhere more private. She went to go talk to her friend, to tell her she was leaving with me. Her friend looked at me and I gave her an airheaded smile, surprisingly enough she gave her friend the 'okay'. The girl then asked me where my room was and I reassuringly said, "This way!"

Now this is the part I mentioned earlier. First, I was completely lost, I had no idea how to get back to my room. Second, I was at a hostel, sharing a room with 15 other people, it probably would have been a bad idea to bring someone back. Lastly, I later saw that it was clearly written in the hostel rules, "Can't bring non guest back and no sexual activity". So there was a blessing in being lost.

After walking around aimlessly and being completely deaf by the loud music, I was trying to talk to this Balinese girl about where to go, I kept saying, "follow me". I had no idea what she was saying and she had no idea what I was saying. Then after a while of not knowing where the fuck I was going, she realized the same thing. Then, it was a quick moment where her friend showed up on a scooter, and they both agreed that letting her follow me was not the smartest thing to do. She said, "I'm sorry I go with my friend" I said okay, and turned and kept walking. I didn't even say bye, I didn't get one final kiss, I was bitter and too proud to show it. That bitterness itself didn't last long because I quickly realized it was better that nothing happened.

So now there is no more nookie lined up at the end of the night, I don't have my phone on me because why should I? If I had to guess how long I walked around that night it might've been over one hour. I got a lot of strange looks, and it's not that I didn't feel safe, it's just that I knew I looked like an easy target. "You need taxi?" "Massage?" "What you look for?" I only brought a certain amount of cash with me and by that time I had 7k left which is about 70 cents. Everyone that approached me I confidently dismissed and the streets I was walking became more empty and quiet. I was walking knowing that anything could happen and that I was very far from my room. Then this one guy on his scooter came up to me and started following me, "where you live? Where you from?" I smiled and loudly replied, "I'm from here brother, I'm like you" He laughed and told me he recognized my hotel locker key, which was a wrist band, and that he knew where my hotel was, I said where, he said "far far away"

I told him I was depleted, no money, and he insisted that I go with him and it was okay that I had no money. He kept saying he was just trying to help. A gut feeling told me not to trust him. Kidding. I trusted him and jumped on the back of his scooter and now I was zipping in and out of streets on the back of a random guys scooter, laughing to myself recollecting all the events that lead to this very moment and trying to make sense of the order of things and just couldn't get myself to stop laughing. He laughed with me while driving probably appreciating how stubborn I was at receiving help from a stranger and when we arrived to the room, which I was very glad for, I gave him the 7k I had left. Which is not bad because scooter rides, I also later learned, are very cheap. Just download the GRAB app. So of course when I gave him money he persisted on getting more, and I reiterated, "I have no money!"

He laughed again and watched me hobble away, I stumbled up the stairs after the front desk lady looked to see if I was a guest, reached my bed and looked at the time and it was passed 3 am. Fuck...I set my alarm for 7:30 AM and it was as if I didn't even sleep, my alarm went off and I sprang out of bed fueled by the alcohol still in my system. I met my driver which ended being the guy that undercut all the prices that the guy my brother recommended me. He also told me, "Promise you no say nothing!" What a guy. He played some old country music on the way to Ubud which was about an hour and thirty minutes. He sang along with the songs not knowing the words which I found relaxing helping me doze in and out of sleep. We finally arrived at the place where I was going to go quad biking across the country side, fields, hills, and caves. That was the best way for me  to cure my hangover, a nice two hour ride to see the land of Ubud.

The instructor gave us a quick five minute rundown on how to operate the quad. Wasting no time, our group formed a single file line and off we went. I rode down steep hills, caves filled with water streams, uphill climbs with no railings on the side, the weather being perfect. Since I booked this trip with the guy my brother recommended I knew I got ripped off because he charged me about 1 million for this, which is about 100 bucks. Way to much money but I will say I really enjoyed the quad bike experience, the many views it offered, and I even got to see rice fields, which was pleasant I guess. Then my driver met me at the end of the ride, where they had a mud pit and let all the participants do burn outs and spin around in the mud which was a bit of simple fun. My driver took some funny actions shots which he sent me later which I much enjoyed. At the end of the quad biking trip, I sat down at the shaded area designated for guests, I realized I was parched. I needed water. Luckily they had free water and I re hydrated as much as I could. Nothing in life is better than fresh water, feeling it make its way down to my tummy.

It was a brief 20 minute car ride to the next destination in which the driver and I had a chance to talk since I was more awake. At one point of the conversation he gave me a slimy grin and asked me if I wanted massage with happy ending, "Very cheap only 25k!" I laughed and told him, "No thanks I'm okay." I also told him that if I did want one, it would be from a girl and not him. He didn't understand my joke.

The next place I was driven to was a rafting place which I was told was quite a ride. Since I was a solo rider I was paired with a random group. The group I joined was this nice group of girls from Thailand. It couldn't have been with a more pleasant group because they were so cheerful and giggly the whole time which kept a constant smile on my face, which distracted me from the headache that was starting to develop. The girls explained to me that today marked the first out of four days of a celebration in Thailand which was where everyone runs around throwing water at each other. I found this very interesting because throughout the rafting ride we were all splashing each other and they enjoyed that I appreciated the tradition in which they were living up to the fullest.

First in order to get down to where the water was flowing, we had to walk about 30 minutes down the side of cliffs and steep hills where some parts had railings and some parts didn't. During this walk I got to see such breathtaking panoramic views of the beauty that was embedded within Ubud. I got to see monkeys all along the way down, waterfalls and huts in which families resided in. As we were walking by peoples homes, which were in the middle of nowhere, I looked inside of some huts and just saw people laying still on their back, motionless as if they'd been laying there for hours and hours. In Jamaica I witnessed similar experiences when coming face to face with how disparaging the gap was between me and them, yet in Bali my heart didn't feel pity because this lifestyle seemed as if it didn't have the similar feeling of oppression. Bali has the infrastructure, cars, top of the line phones among all the inhabitants, and access to running water and electricity. It was just that Balinese people seemed more content with the minimal aspect of life. What more can one need and once you have the essential needs, why not work some days and lounge all day? To each their own. Jamaica, however, there is no reason for their level of poverty. They didn't even have basic concrete slabs in any of the buildings that I saw while I was riding from one destination to the other. Everywhere in between tourist destinations was overlooked in Jamaica. All that was properly built in Jamaica were the resorts. Outside of the realm of the resorts there was nothing established, as if no one truly cared about the well being of these people. In Jamaica, for visitors there was no business being anywhere else except resorts, but if there was business, there was a reason for caring for the infrastructure. Anyways.I'm going in circles,

The closer we got to the bottom, the more I started seeing hieroglyphics and markings on the stone walls that shaped the river. These markings resembled faces, patterns and beautiful tribal designs that were located throughout the whole rafting trip. How old these sculpted artworks were, I had no idea. I imagine thousand of years? Who had the time to sculpt all these tribal designs all along the walls? And it was just above the water, meaning whoever created this had to be standing in the water also, the ride was about three hours? This was one of the most extraordinary moments of my trip, trying to understand the history behind these hieroglyphics. Perhaps I'm a bad writer, but I wish I could better express in words how far away from everything these hieroglyphics were. I also want to know who managed to have the time to create such artwork. I should've taken a picture, but I didn't. Yet I'll always remember.

So on this rafting trip we saw super tall cliffs, waterfalls, and the views from the bottom looking up that were just as breathtaking as the views walking down. I've never been this deep in a jungle before. We transitioned from a smooth coast to rapids and back to a smooth coast all along the ride. We got off at some points where there were some nice waterfalls. One of the waterfalls stood out the most. It had the water falling from a very very VERY high cliff, and we all took turns standing right where the water fell. We were wearing helmets, which if we didn't, it would've been a serious issue because the pressure the water created from the waterfall was so immense that it would push me down making my feet sink into the sand. I could hear nothing except the loud thumps from the water and as I was sinking quickly I was wondering how people have not drowned or been knocked unconscious from this great force of nature! Nobody realized how crazy the sensation was until they actually stood under the waterfall, so therefore peoples reactions became the most hilarious part of my trip. People screamed, panicking being paralyzed by shock not realizing what they were walking into. As if this was the most traumatizing experience that some of these people ever experienced. I died from laughter until I couldn't breathe and I was sure my abs were going to be sore the next day. Just as I walked away from the waterfall, the voice in my head kept saying, "Go ahead, stand under it again". It became an instant addiction. Very intense.

So as the ride continued I took in all the beauty the ride had to offer and towards the end of the ride I got a whiff of a very familiar smell, some good old fashion marijuana. The laws in Bali are very strict in regards to drugs, even with weed and if I'm not mistaken the punishment can be as severe as death. I want no part of it. So I smell weed, I look around and the tour guide we were with kept ignoring my reaction. He knew that I knew. Our group was split into two rafts and the other raft pulled to the side, and out of the jungle came a person, from I don't know where, quick and discreet passed a bag to the tour guide from the other raft. I laughed out loud and said, "How much brother? If you guys would've told me before I would've come more prepared!" They nervously smiled ignoring my rambunctiousness and tried to move along as if nothing happened. I witnessed a drug deal at the most gangster pick-up/drop-off spot. Street cred.

So the ride ended just as it started raining, The last five minutes of the ride we had the option of jumping off the raft and floating with the water, which was refreshing. Then we hiked up as far as we initially came down, but this path was more direct. A shuttle picked us up and drove us back to the main station where my driver was sitting and just smoking cigarettes. My driver would just sit and chill on his phone all day not having a care in the world. What a guy.

Now I'm exhausted, I'm running off three hours of sleep and I cannot wait to get back to my room. The drive seemed a bit longer on the way back. It was that 5 o'clock traffic, 5 o'clock traffic in Bali. The craziest part of the road was the intensity of the driving with a mixture of people on scooters. There are like 15 scooters overtaking a car that is switching lanes where at the same time a car from the opposite direction is driving head first at about 10 people on scooters who are also overtaking another car on the left. It seemed very chaotic and I wanted no part in it. I was told to rent a scooter to get the real Bali experience. It's not that I was scared, which I was, it is just that I do not trust myself on a scooter on the roads of Bali. Also, good word has it, if you are a tourist you will get pulled over by the police and they will take all your money because you do not have an international license. I'd rather overpay for a questionably safe car ride, which I have been, than to get hustled by the Police. Only in Mexico.

I get back to my hotel and the first people I run into are Dutch boy and the other German girls. They were on their way out as I was on my way in. I honestly don't remember the last time I saw them, after I was lost dancing with the girl I completely forgot who I came with until I ran into them again that moment at the hostel lobby. The girls laughed because I now realize they saw me getting my freak on with a girl on the dance floor the previous night. They asked me how the night ended for me, I briefly told them that it was not what they were expecting, that I had no idea where to go and that she ended up leaving. They were amused but as I saw that they were on their way out I didn't want to stand in their way. They said they were going to Sky Garden, for food and drink and I said I would join them but first I needed to shower.

I went up to my bed, the same feeling rushed over me. Who needs sleep? I jumped in the shower, quickly got changed and just like that I was back on the street headed back to the party strip. Once I arrived to Sky Garden I immediately realized my directional error from the previous night. Where I was meant to turn left I turned right. And kept walking. Anyways, Sky Garden said they had a dress code and that my tank top wouldn't suffice. Can't  show any sexy shoulder if you're a guy. So in order to change I walked back and forth to my room, a hobbits tale. Once I got up to the front they told me that for 140k (14 AUD 10 USD) I would get unlimited food and drink. Unlimited food AND drink? Now I'm pissed!

I was amazed, because the price was dirt cheap, and mainly I was hungry and I did not expect a buffet. It wasn't just an ordinary buffet, it was a grand buffet. I started with the Greek salad and worked my way to some rotisserie chicken, chicken breast, sirloin steak, bbq ribs, and much more. It was perfect. I found my hostel mates and we sat around talking but the vibe just wasn't as fluid for whatever reasons. I think it just had to do with the age gap. I had about seven years on them and they were on their phones the whole time. To each their own but when I'm out and about, I'm not trying to see what meme you think is funny. I really don't care. We played some card games, here and there but as the night was winding down, and my belly was being filled with food and drink, once the clock struck 9:00 PM it was time for me to go. I started realizing that Sky Garden was more than a nice buffet on the 4th or 5th floor, it was an insanely huge multi-level club with many DJ's spinning their funk! Every floor had its own dance floor which was completely empty all the way until midnight. Trust me when I say this, people took full advantage of the free drinks that were included in the buffet. Those free drinks lasted till 9 pm. I got there maybe around 6. But that night I was not feeling it, I was truly tired, I knew I needed rest and that I really didn't want to hang out with kids younger than me who were on their phone most of the time.

I got up, said goodbye, went to my room and as I lay down trying to sleep, I kept thinking about the devil that was growing within and then I decided to open up my Tinder and Bumble app. I had roughly 10 matches on Tinder, where it seemed that 7/10 were all solicitations for happy endings etc. I send a few drunk messages here and there, "Wussup bebe" "Cmon bebe" "I need you bebe" all that fun stuff. I managed to doze off and I slept until about 10 am. I got up, jumped on my feet, started power punching the sky and went upstairs for breakfast. I ran into the group of German girls and Dutch boy but seeing as they were preoccupied with themselves I had my breakfast and decided to sit by the balcony and do some creative writing after breakfast. There I sat next to Max.

Introduction to Max. I see him writing in his own book and I sat next to him writing my random babble and incoherent thoughts, after about an hour I started striking up conversation with him and we slowly started talking about each other's trip, how it has been going so far, and plans we still had. He has been in Bali for four weeks and was headed to Singapore next. The conversation was picking up, I was digging his vibe, he seemed pretty reserved yet energetic. He was tall and German. I started drinking tall boys again and asked if he wanted one and he  replied, "It's too early for that". Yeah sure why not. He asked me what I had planned for the day, and I honestly had nothing planned. I asked him what he had planned and he said that he was planning on going surfing. He said he's never been so he wants to check it out. Now it seemed as if I had something to do. It was to try surfing in Bali. I asked if it was okay for me to join, and he was delighted that I asked, what a nice guy. Such a friendly smile. Mad Max.

Surfing in Bali, first thing was first. Haggling down the price. For two people we ended up paying  300k for 2 hours with instructors. 15 dollars a person for 2 hours seems great. They first wanted to charge 150k for one hour, no instructor. So you see how far down we had to haggle. We get the boards and first they taught us positions and footsteps and ultimately how to get up on a surfboard. Get up! One Two SURF!

So the first hour in the water the instructor would push the board before teaching me when to paddle on my own, and sure enough I caught my fist wave! From a decent mid range all the way to the beach I was riding a wave feeling like a natural! This is what surfing feels like! So I swim back to my instructor, he tells me to get back on the board for the next wave that was approaching. The wave reaches behind me as I hear the sound of the wave crashing getting louder, I feel the push on my board "UP" my instructor yells, right foot left foot, sure enough I was on my next wave cruising all the way to the shore. When all the sudden I lose balance and was falling off my board. I felt safe because I thought falling in the water can't hurt because on my other failed attempts nothing happened. Difference now was that I was closer to the shore and I fell forward, not backwards. Being close to the shore meant that the water was below the knee shallow, and falling forward meant that I fell straight on the top of my head.

I fell on my head harder than I have ever fallen in my life, I jumped on my feet as quick as possible trying to realize what just happened. Sharp pain instantly spread from the top of my head all through my neck and shoulders and simultaneously I felt my neck stiffening up. I asked myself the time and date checking to see if I had a concussion. Now my senses were coming back and I looked around and was in a lot of pain. The instructor looked at me with a shocking glance as I forced a smile through the pain I felt. The instructor told me to immediately get out of the water pointing at my head, I told him," I know, I know! I'm fine I think". Then I reach and touch my forehead with my right hand and look my fingertips right after. All I saw was the darkest and most beautiful color red covering my hands. That is when I realized my face was covered in blood and I probably split my scalp open.

So after I realized my head and face was covered with blood, the instructor and his posse surround me looking at the severity of the cut. One guy looked very intently in my eyes and said, "Whatever needs to be done, we wanna make sure you're okay" I asked if I needed stitches and one guy from the side came and got a good look and said, "Not so bad, you ok". Well I paid for this time, and I don't feel bad so lets head back in the water. Naturally I wanted to show off how easily I can shrug something off and wanted to impress this Balinese men with my machismo. As I was running back in the water I heard, "Oh you strong boy!" Don't act like you're not impressed.

Getting back on the water I got right back to catching waves, with the instructors help that is. Then he started telling me when to paddle and slowly transitioned away from letting me venture out on my own. The next hour I was now by myself. When surfing on my own I caught two waves, evidently I had no idea what I was doing because the timing and placement to catching a wave was something I knew I couldn't learn on my first go. As big as me ego is I knew that timing is something that would take years for me to master. I decided to call it a day. Max stayed to catch more waves. I told him I'm going to go and wash out this cut.

When I was headed back to my room I realized I was getting a lot of stares, the wound hasn't closed yet and I was still gushing blood. I got up to the 5th floor and jumped in the shower and let the warm water clean out the wound. I knew by re-agitating the wound it would make it bleed more but it needed to be done. Then I took a towel and held it firm over my head but I still managed to get a few drops of blood on my bed. Oops. I felt the bleeding stop or at least slow down, I headed back up to the wonderful rooftop that was becoming ever so familiar to me. There I waited for Max because I had his room key that he wanted to keep in my locker. When Max finally showed up, with his cheerful smile he asked me if I was okay and couldn't help himself from laughing at the situation. We both then decided that we were hungry and I told him I was planning to go to Sky Garden for dinner because it was such a good deal, he also didn't believe me when I told him they serve unlimited drinks till 9 pm. I don't blame him. I didn't believe it either. We both got ready, he laughed because the blood on my head was still visible, and off we went to Sky Garden. Sky Garden round 2.

Sky Garden round 2. More of a comical night because of the ending it had. Right when we got there, we went straight for the buffet, loaded our plates, grabbed a table, went back and got our first round of drinks. He started with a premixed cocktail that are filled in beer bottles, ya know, those really fucking sweet and terribly tasting ones. The ones that can give you a really bad headache? Well I was keeping it safe and strong and ordered vodka sodas and would squeeze limes in it, two drinks at a time. That was the limit. Unlike the previous night, Max was a great drinking buddy and we were both hootin and hollering at girls together, it was great fun. Mad Max kept asking, from a scale from 1 to 27, how drunk are you? The first hour we both said we were under a 10. And just as the night continued Mad Max was getting intrigued by my vodka sodas with lime, so he switched right over and he was hooked. He was picking up the pace on how fast he was downing the drinks and I told him I have no problem keeping up. The line was getting longer and longer because it was getting closer to 9 pm so Mad Max was now feeling the need to rush, "Let's leave these two on the table, get two more, and now we have four!" I replied, "So why don't we just chug them?" Without waiting for his reply I would down one after the other, I was feeling a bit boisterous, after all I'm the heavy weight champion of the world. At one point of the night we sat next to a group of Russian girls who kept saying that they only worked a few nights, reiterating 'a few nights'. I started catching their drift, as in they were hookers, but I didn't take the bait because, screw that, and Mad Max just had no clue. After they got up and left a gentlemen came up to us and asked us if we liked them and got into a small side conversation, judging by Mad Max'es reaction, he was just told that they were hookers. At that point the hookers were already gone and it was time to try our luck somewhere else. Mad Max already scoped out a table of four girls and decided we should sit at the two top that was empty right next to them. Mad Max was full of good ideas.

We stand in line for about the 5th or 6th time, we lost count, we take our vodka sodas with lime and head towards the ladies. We plop down, start the conversation, they were Germans, Mad Max took the lead, and by the 3rd or 4th time Mad Max and I got up to get another double round of drinks, the ladies disappeared. This is when things got blurry. I don't remember when I lost Mad Max but I know at one point he just wasn't there anymore. I remember once I was taking a piss and I saw him walk in and out, I was screaming his name, he didn't hear me. Next thing I'm on the dance floor on the highest level, the level that had the buffet, which now fully transformed into a club. Just like the first night I was punching the air, with my power stance, conquering the universe one hip thrust at a time. This time the vodka soda with lime was kicking my ass. There was one part of the night where I remember I sat down, my head was spinning, my legs felt heavy, I felt immobile.

I was too drunk, I reached a point filled with dread, the feeling that I wouldn't make it to where I was supposed to. The feeling of despair, stumbling to a point where I felt I had no balance left. The more I let the feeling overcome my mind, the more I felt lost. This was a 'now or never moment'. I got up and walked down the stairs and for the first time I realized that the dance floor that was empty on the lower level, was now packed! The DJ was spinning the illest hip-hop mixed with electro-dance music, and I knew that if I wanted to rid myself from this funk I was feeling, that I would have to do so on the dance floor. I was a dancing queen.

With this up tempo music it was easier for me to push the pace, shuffle step through the music, jump up and down, scream and shout. I saw someone who was not enjoying himself, I grabbed him by the collar, screamed until he screamed with me. I needed him to lose himself. I made contact with every girl, physically or emotionally, I needed everyone to feel me. I turned from a drunk wobbly guy into to the hypest man on the planet. The Dj was playing everything from Dr. Dre to other bangers that would make me lose my mind. I kept looking to my right, there was this Asian beauty getting closer and closer, I felt this was too good to be true, I was in a very drunk state and in my experience, girls want nothing to do with the sweaty guy. I ignore her, she gets closer, and closer, until I couldn't resist. She was so petite and had the sweetest smile with the such eyes, but what swept me away the most were them titties. Good lord she had them out on display. It wasn't meant for me but she kept insisting to dance and I danced right back, she brought out such a foolish and confused smile from me which only lit up the smile on her face. At one point she got so close and up on her tip toes, I felt forced to kiss her, we made out like teenagers. She turned around grinded her cute little booty on me, took my hands and squeezed her breast. I didn't know what was happening and how it got to this point but I was not fighting anything. She asked me why I didn't drink, I told her I was already wasted, she took me to the bar and sure enough, she managed to make me buy her a drink. I got myself an ice cold water, which hit the spot. Both drinks combined, 120 k. The buffet with unlimited drinks, 140 k. I see what's going on.

We get back on the dance floor and she shares her drink with me, offers me a cigarette, she was so sweet. Then she started glancing over there, at one point she drifted away from me. She started talking to this other group of guys and I'm past the point in life where I will sit and wait for something to unfold. She looked at me and gave me this conflicted look so I did the right thing and went up to her and said goodbye, I thanked her for the good time, and I left Sky Garden at around 3:30 AM. I was so thirsty and they refused to give me water unless I bought a water bottle which was marked way up. I was not willing to give in to their nonsense and they found no pity from me begging for free water. I finally make my way outside, there in front was a Mini Mart, I walked inside and got a giant bottle of ice cold water, only 10k. One doller. Hell yes. I drank that water so fast my tummy filled up so much that I instantly got a tummy ache and was uncomfortably walking back to my hostel. Fortunately I knew the way. Just then I realized, what the hell happened to Mad Max? Poor guy drank as much as me and I barely made it out alive, is he dead? Where did he go? This always happens when I get people excited, the outdo themselves. Then, just out of nowhere I hear, "No fucking way!?" I turn around, and there hobbling down the street with a lost expression and zoned out death stare, stood Mad Max.

What are the chances that me and Mad Max loose each other all night but still end up walking home together? I asked him, "What happened to you?" "I don't know, I... I don't  know.. I fell asleep somewhere in Sky Garden, I... I don't know" He kept stammering in his German accent. I was dying with laughter and yet amazed at the possible of the turn of events. I offered him some water, he took a big gulp, he had a large bag of chips that he bought from the store, he offered me some but I was so disgustingly full from the water that I couldn't stomach the idea of eating anything else. We laughed as we strolled down the street bumping shoulders all the way to the Hostel. We said our goodbyes, I knew that Mad Max was out of commission. Probably all of next day. I climbed up on my top bunk, send out as many drunken tinder messages and bumble messages and at one point I fell asleep. The next day I woke up at 8:30 am, I knew I couldn't fall back asleep because the amount of drinking I did turns my mind restless. I told myself that I needed to plan an event, a little excursion, I can't keep doing this Sky Garden routine. I messaged the guy my brother recommended regarding a trip to the Gillie Islands and I messaged the guy that wants to undercut him. it started at 700k, went down to 600k, then the undercutting agent was like 550k final answer. Deal, only thing was that the trip wasn't possible until the next day. Which gave me a chance to recover. I went up and got breakfast and enjoyed a Lucky Strike cigarette with a nice cup of coffee, went downstairs and laid around and rested up. Around noon I went back up to the rooftop to see what was happening.

Back at the rooftop. I knew I was leaving the hotel at 6:30 AM the following morning so tonight can't get that crazy, besides I told myself that I didn't come here to be a drunk. I wanted more of a spiritual journey, A trip to Gillie Island is just what I need. The Gillie Islands consist of three islands, Gillie Trawanga, which I was under good authority has some incredible shrooms. The other two islands are for the honeymooners and the retiree's. Since my trip up Mt. Agung was cancelled because there was a volcanic eruption, and Mt. Batur was out of the equation because the prices I got were over 1 million, over 100 dollars, I decided a trip to the Gillie Island would be a proper replacement, trade the morning sunrise view from a mountain top, for a shroom trip on the Gillie Island. I didn't know where I would get the shrooms from, I just knew I would. But that is not until the next day but now I had something to look forward too. So here I am now back at the rooftop and I run into one of the German girls who is leaving Bali and has already checked out but is lounging around until her flight. We started talking about her adventures and it turns out she has been traveling for almost 4 months, going to Thailand, Singapore, and a few other countries next. I found all this incredible and it only made me realize how much more I need to travel. As the German girl and I were having a conversation, this nice dude from Belgium joined the party. He went by the name of Lawrence.

As Lawrence transitioned in and the German girl left, Lawrence and I started drinking tall boys together, nothing crazy just kicking back having a few drinks. We started discussing places around Kuta that one could find some nice food, and somehow the conversation ended up with Sky Garden, somehow. I was telling him that they got this great all you can eat buffet that also had an all you can drink special available till 9 PM. He couldn't believe it, I don't blame him because neither could I.

I felt like I was sucked into the vicious cycle that Kuta had to offer but I just couldn't get myself to turn down such a deal. Long story short, or just fast forwarding a bit, I ate and drank with Lawrence at Sky Garden, we ended going around 7 PM, which was nice because I didn't have an extra two hours of drinking. The whole time I was trying to behave keeping in mind I had to be up at 6 AM the next day. After food and a drinks, 9 PM arrived and it was time for a rest room break. I made my way down the stairs, suddenly I heard music coming from a familiar direction of where a dance floor resides, I had to go see what was going on. To my surprise, I found a DJ spinning music with the dance floor completely empty, not a single person on it. I thought to myself, "Well since I'm here...". My intention was to warm up the dance floor by being the only one to dance my heart out, surprisingly it worked. After dancing for about 45 minutes of just tearing the dance floor up, more people started crowding in. I felt like my job was done so therefore I left. I went back upstairs and said bye to Lawrence, I got to my room roughly about 1 AM, started tindering and stuff, saw that I had a message saying, "lets meet". I did what I thought was most appropriate, I got the address and headed out immediately. Now this is where it got interesting.

The address I got was somewhere in Seminyak which is north of Kuta, known to be a fancier and more upscale environment. The cab driver knew I was intoxicated from the moment I sat down and immediately tried and reach into my pockets. I was hesitant but laughed along and by the end of the cab ride I owed him 40k (four dollars) but he was trying to charge me 100k. I'm not as dumb as I am drunk. He dropped me off in the middle of nowhere. The meet up spot that was discussed between the lady and I was no where to be seen. I was confused standing in a narrow street at a part of town I've never been, at 2 AM. It felt sketchy. Then I saw a girl in a motorbike driving by smiling, it was her. She told me to drive her motorbike which I refused because no way, that's why. She giggled and understood, I hopped in the back of her scooter and off we went to our first destination, the mini mart. We both got off, walked inside and she insisted we get a bottle of red, the most expensive one, 50 bucks. As I decided to go with the flow, she added two red bulls to the tab and skipped out of the store with the same giggle, giggling at the fact that she knew she was making me pay for the whole tab. We got back on her bike and drove back towards her apartment, where the entrance was in an alley that was connected to a snug narrow side street. The entrance had quite a fashionable walkway which gave light to the energy residing in Seminyak, I felt the difference in location. Kuta had nowhere near this kind of fashion. Past the narrow walkway of the entrance which was a nice little arch-tunnel covered with similar designs that I saw while I was rafting, we made our way up through the side stairs that was attached to a snug apartment complex. Her entrance had two sliding doors and her room consisted of just a room and a bathroom. I was surprised she let me into the place she slept so easily, regardless I was enjoying the spontaneity of the night and decided to go along with it. The bottle of red she placed in a cupboard that also had a bottle of vodka. As she placed the wine in, she took the vodka out, grabbed a couple of glasses, put everything in a bag, "Okay lets go" and off we were to the beach.

Sitting on the back of her scooter, enjoying the direction of the night, I was wondering what was the point of buying the wine if its only purpose was to get swapped out for the vodka. We reached the beach, she grabbed the bag filled with the glasses and drinks, she lead the way to a secluded spot on the beach and we both sat and started drinking and talking about who knows what. She asked me about my background, humoured by the amount of times I moved around, laughed at my responses to some of her questions, I laughed at some of her remarks, then she started acting like something was troubling her. "What is it?"

What it was, I'm still not quite sure, maybe you can help me decide. She said she was conflicted over the bottle of vodka that we were putting a dent in. She said it wasn't hers and that she was worried that her roommate or friend would be upset that it was almost finished. So I asked her, "So why didn't we just bring the wine?" Her reply, "Oh you no understand me". I didn't. She kept implying that she needed me to pay for another vodka bottle asking me for 100 dollars. Hell no! I was starting to think that this was more code than anything. Then she finally asked me, "What do you want?" I said, "Everything" "Okay so you help me get new bottle. How much you give me?" "50 all I have" "Show me", I show her. The rest of the night I can spare the details. I was left with many questions. Was I paying for a service? What was the point of the wine? I also drank a lot of the vodka, a whole bottle actually would be 100 bucks. So I helped her pay for another one? Then why did everything start the second I handed her the 50? Is she or is she not what I think she was? At the end she told me she was a Muslim girl after she called me a scooter taxi.

Finding myself on the back of a scooter taxi, flying through the city, again laughing at how the night unfolded, I reached my hostel at I time that grew to be the new standard, around 3:30 AM. She was beautiful, everything happened so fast, I got what I wanted, and she got what she needed, money for a new bottle of vodka. She left my mind as quickly as I left her place, all my mind was occupied with was the fact I had to be up in less than three hours for my big day trip to the Gillie Islands. I fell asleep and woke up in the same position, my alarm waking up my whole floor as I ruffle through my bed trying to find the snooze or off button. One of the front desk workers came up to my bed and notified me that my ride was here. I left in the same clothe I fell asleep in, stepping in the bathroom only for a second to splash my face then off I was to the Gillie Islands to do some shrooms!

The shuttle van was empty when I got in, we picked up more passengers along the way. I didn't notice the other passengers because I was utilizing this time to maximize the amount of sleep I got. Little to none. We finally arrive at our destination, Padang Harbor. There I walked up to a cafe facing the ocean where the organizers were stationed. They were checking in passengers for the boat ride. This was the part of my trip where I realized I had no money left, I was down to 20 dollars. I wasn't going to get far. The boat ride and shuttle was already paid for, but how was I gonna get shrooms? How was I gonna pay for food? There was only one option, ask mommy for help. I didn't bring all my cash with me because my intention was to budget my adventure within the set amount initially chosen. So once that amount was reached, I could transfer over more funds, little by little. Knowing that a lot of questions would be asked, "why so much?" or "what are you spending your money on?" My reply was simple, "Everything is a lot more expensive than I thought". I knew that whatever amount would be sent over would be minimal. Which was good.Whatever the case was, I now had money for my day adventure. Within the next 20 minutes I was told that boat ride was ready for departure.

I walked towards the dock, it was a hot sunny day. The entrance of the boat was on the side and a gentlemen checked the passengers tickets and gave them a stamp. Since my ticket was an open two-way, meaning I could return whatever day I chose, he gave me a stamp and told me to hold on to my ticket. He emphasized on the part that I do not lose my ticket receipt, it was my only way off the island. Once I stepped inside the boat, I saw how big it was. The downstairs area consisted of about 15 rows with eight seats per row and just one aisle between the eight seats. Everyone crammed downstairs while wondering if it was possible to sit on the upper deck. I kept looking back and wanted to get up and see for myself but I found myself being so hesitant that I got locked into this notion that once I settled in my seat, I needed to stay there. It was hot and muggy in this lower deck that was ventilated by two fans and my hangover combined with two hours of sleep made my mind even more restless. I looked around, everyone was with someone, what the hell am I doing?

Once the boat left the harbor and was coasting towards the open water, one of the cabin crew members explained a few safety rules and concluded that if anyone wants to smoke cigarettes they can on the upstairs deck. He didn't even finish the sentence and I got up, climbed up the narrow spiral stairs located at the back of the boat. There were already quite a few people there relaxing, chilling and vibing. It was an open deck, no seats, just an open rooftop, which made it able for me to stretch my legs with my back against the railing. I took a deep breath, I started to reminisce over the last couple days. I was tired, exhausted, dehydrated, restless, hungover, hungry and confused. What am I doing here?  What am I searching for? What am I running away from? What is the point to all of this? Wouldn't it be better if I just found a nice comfortable lifestyle that doesn't make me feel as if I'm wearing myself thin? All these thoughts and feelings were piling up but as soon as the boat passed the buoys it hit full speed, the music turned on and it was nothing but blue ocean view as far as I could see in every direction. Everything was alleviated, the wind rushing through, the sound of the boat breaking through waves, the cloudless blue sky, and the cabin crew offering everyone beer for only 3.50. It seemed to me there was no better time than now. I had a beer, just one is what I needed, I listened to the music, I felt the music, I turned my body facing the rails towards the ocean and just enjoyed the ride. All the mixed feelings were gone and the only thought I had was, "this is where I am supposed to be, by myself somewhere far away from everyone". The boat ride to the Gillie Island was by far the best part of my trip. Nothing can beat the vibe on the top deck along with the music, nothing.

As one hour turned into two, I realized we were getting close but I was also dying of thirst, it was hot, and I was getting very uncomfortable. As much as I tried to take in the moment, it was ruined by my level of discomfort, all due to the lack of sleep, hunger, and my hangover. The heat was getting to me as well, and this enjoyable ride was now turning into a countdown to the moment I can get my hands on water and after I got my water, it's time look for shrooms. Within the next 20 minutes we started approaching a small island which I correctly assumed was Gillie Trawanga. There was no dock, the boat just anchored down right on shore. As all the passengers started making their way out, all the crew members started taking down everyone's luggage, me being luggage free, I managed to skip by everyone, jump off to the side and off to the island I was. I was immediately rushed by at least ten street merchants and none of them offered me shrooms. I was on a mission.

Once I got on the Island and passed the sand, I started walking left. I knew the island was very small, it would take about an hour to walk around the whole Island but it was so hot that I was not about to do that. I felt dizzy and light headed. I thought I was gonna faint. I was looking for an ATM and there didn't seem to be one in sight, no ATM anywhere to be seen and no shrooms. I started asking around for an ATM and people told me to keep walking towards where I was going, another 15 minutes passed and I finally found an ATM. I took out 700k, 500k for shrooms and 200k for food or drink, I should be good. First thing I did was buy some water, a big giant bottle of water. Luckily I wasn't charged a tourist price, I only payed 10k, which is about one dollar. With every sip I took, I felt life slowly coming back to me, I was now ready to look for shrooms.

I was mainly walking the front strip that was right next to the beach where all the tourism was, I knew I had to go inland to find what I was looking for. When I first got on the Island I walked left and I seemed to have gone to where the resorts were and the resorts kept getting fancier the more I walked this direction, it didn't feel as if I was getting closer to shrooms. I started walking back towards the direction I came from and once I walked back far enough, I headed inland. The further in I got, the more I questioned my motive. I was passing by huts, isolated alleyways, and Balinese natives who had the strongest facial expressions that I had ever seen. These people have some serious faces. It was very intimidating at times but that is what made the experience that much more enjoyable. What is life if you can't make conversation with a group of strangers that you feel might want to mug you? Anyways, I had no luck inland and made my way back to the front of the Island but at this point I had made so many left and rights, I didn't know which part of the Island I was. I also had no clue where I landed, which I knew was important because I was planning on leaving the same day. However my mind was fixed, I told myself I can figure everything out, first I need to find shrooms. I make it back to the front of the Island and I figured since the last time I walked the left side of the strip, this time I will continue walking the right side of the strip and as soon as I passed the area of the beach where most of the boats where docked, I hear some guy "boss you look for shrooms?"

I turn and slow my pace, I nod, "Yeah what you got?" "What you need?" "I need a lot, I got a strong mind." He laughs and now I start walking towards him and his crew. These people looked like the sketchiest people on the Island. They were the only ones that had dreads, one of them was actually dreading someones hair, their faces were thick skinned, aged with strength and individuality, and when they smiled their faces broadened with a sense of heaviness that I will never forget. At that moment I remember asking myself, "Are these the people I want to get my shrooms from?" Before I knew it, the same guy that first asked me, got up and said, "follow me". So I did.

I'm now following a random guy through narrow streets, going through alleys, walking though mud tracks, and we finally reach a hut where this woman in a scarf was sitting and when she saw me she started smiling. She was in her late 50's and seemed to be the guys mother. He walked towards a mini fridge and grabbed a plastic bag that was in the upper row behind coke bottles. He took out four large cones that were filled with shrooms, I walked closer to have a good look. These schrooms were unlike any that I've ever seen, they looked very ordinary. They resembled plain white mushrooms except these mushrooms had a lot more dark areas just like the color of the under-hat part. Whatever it's called. "I've never seen shrooms that look like this. Are you sure these are real shrooms?" I couldn't help but ask. He replied with a salesmen tone, "These are special Island shrooms, you don't find these nowhere but the Island, very strong. For you I give four. 250k". 250k? Hmmm, that is half of what I was planning on spending and double the amount I planned on taking, and if these don't work and I got hustled, then I'll go and try some other shrooms from somewhere else. "Ok deal" and then he took the shrooms and told me he was going to go and mix them with some coke, coca cola to be more specific. At this point he went up some stairs and told me to hang back, I started thinking to myself, "He's going to short me, he's taking me for a ride, I'm getting hustled!" But I still haven't paid. He comes back down the stairs, a cup in his hand, like a little thin white plastic cup that you get at the dentist office when they tell you to rinse your mouth, it was about three quarters full. "Drink all at once as quick as possible" were the instructions he gave me as he handed me the cup. Before he even finished talking, I jumped to conclusion and downed the whole thing in a split second, it tasted like regular mushrooms, not the shroom flavor I'm used to. I asked him if there was a toilet I could use, I really had to pee. He lead me to a bathroom in a dark back room behind the same building, I assumed that this was his house. After I peed he walked back with me to the front of the building, he still didn't ask for the money. "Do you want me to pay you now?" I said abruptly. "Yes 250k all good boss" he smoothly replied. I handed him the cash, thinking to myself, "If these shrooms are as good as he says, than this is the cheapest I've ever paid for shrooms. On the other hand if I am being played, I'm not getting hustled for a lot and he showed me where he lives, not that I'll remember but still, it's a trustworthy move."

As we are walking back to where he was hanging out with his friends, at the front strip by the beach, he asked me questions about myself, I asked him about himself. He said, "I Muslim, but I no good Muslim!" With such a mischievous grin that helped me built trust in his character, that's how it works for me. Once we got closer to his friends, they all stared and smiled at me, making me feel two ways. One way was that they were thinking, "Look at this idiot getting played!" The other, "Look at this crazy fuck coming here doing a shit ton of shrooms by himself!" Either way, the dual feelings that arose made me feel a bit uneasy but since I got what I wanted I knew it was time to say goodbye and enjoy the ride, if there was one. The last thing he told me was that it was going to last about four to five hours and not to freak out. I wanted to tell him that I've done this before but I knew there was no point. So I walked away and walked further left, further away from the starting point.

As I continued my walk, I was trying to fool myself into thinking that my trip had started, immediately thinking the opposite, "These aren't real shrooms!" As I was walking I reached a point on the beach that was covered with a bunch of mini shacks, all with chalk signs advertising shroom shakes. This was the part of the Island that I was supposed to find! Everyone at every shack was hollering at me calling me over. I walked over to one of them, he offered me some shrooms, I told him I already took some and that if I didn't feel the shrooms kicking in soon, I would be back here to try some of his. "Boss if you don't feel it the first ten minutes, then it's not shrooms. When you try mine, you feel right away!" "I hear you, I'm just gonna wait 20 more minutes. Trust me, if I need to, I'll be back!" I was not about to take a chance and double dose and completely overdue this experience. I decided to walk back towards the area that I arrived so I could find out where I was supposed to leave from and what time I need to check in. I wanted to do this before anything kicked in, so I start prancing back, at a quick pace. On the way back I passed the guy who sold me my shrooms, I didn't notice him, but he notice me. "How's it going? You feel it?" "Honestly, I don't feel anything." All his friends laugh, I didn't enjoy that. "Oh you just wait my friend, you just wait." I kept walking away from him, feeling a bit eerie, as if I trusted the wrong people but what was I to do? Approach him and say I want my money back so all him and his dangerous looking friends could stab me and leave me somewhere in the middle of the Island? This wasn't my thought process at the time, I'm just trying to say that there is only so much I could do. Then this feeling in my head rose up again, "Am I making myself think I'm tripping, or am I really tripping? No man this was a rip off!"

I walk inside a mini mart, buy some cigarettes and a large bottle of water, the cigarette pack was shining more than usual. No, that's just me trying to make myself think it is. I step outside, open the water bottle, take a sip, start walking to the main part of the island where all the boats arrive. All the sudden, all the sudden.....

All the sudden, from the sky, a thousand bricks land right around me, some on my head, some paving the way. I look to the first option, a tree in between two anchored boats. Shade. The clouds were moving fast, the faces were augmented, demented, majestic, beautifully transitioning, transforming at a rapid pace, I reach the shade. I reach for a cigarette, everything felt heavy. Raising my eyes to the sky, lit to flames from orange to pink. Closing my eyes a million people pointing at me, "You you you, you think it's all about you!" All around my head, with one girl standing in the middle, with one hand shielding her face from being seen, her palm was facing her. I knew who she was. It was her, moving forward. I can no longer see her. Then I caught a glimpse of something fresh, it was my own two legs. I saw the hair sticking out of each pore, so new it all seemed. I thought of the first memory that I ever had, everything collided that moment. This is my reawakening, my past washed away, my new first memory. I gave birth to my consciousness, as if I never existed before. I glance at my right shoulder, then my left. Ancient markings, tribal markings flowing through my skin, showing the directional flow of my energy. My fingertips were turning, fusing together the vibe and energy that now flowed together which at one point was headed towards each other. I sat gazing at the sky, the many faces, the clouds flying lower and lower, then a loud thunder rumbled, it was time for a change. My legs felt too weak, it was impossible, everything was, when will this end? Never. The end is the end. I need to get up, this is not where I want to be stuck. I can be somewhere better, but it's never better here! Why is that so? I wish now that I was on a more desolate spot, enjoying this madness, because this spot is not enough. It is never enough, so this has to be, because if it's not, that only means that all hope is lost. So just be here, in between two ships owned by the rich, lacking symmetry, hearing all the street merchants pushing their product, the high crackled loud laughter from the Balinese men, oh how much I hate that laugh! The uncomfortable spot that I'm in, my back against the rough part of the tree, it's enough for me, because it has to be. I have no energy, but I do! I have plenty. When will I find my moment, where I spring on my feet? Now Now NOW! I sat and tripped for about an hour or so, who really knows. And then and then.


I jump up! Time to move along. I walk back the direction opposite from home. I see my friend at a distance, thinking how long was I sitting on that spot? The horse carriage trotting past me, all the colors it got! I smile not so people look and see me smiling, just to ask themselves "I wonder what he smiling about?" I am that vain at times, we all are. Humanity is vain. I was smiling because I knew that I was tripping balls to the 10th degree. When I saw my old friend, the guy that sold me the shrooms, he nodded at me questionably, my smile growing even further from ear to ear. "Dude this shit is crazy!" He sighed with relief, his friends laughing louder now. There was an empty seat at their table, "May I join?" "Of course!". I sat down with them, I was sitting with the most suspect looking people on the Island tripping balls, I loved every questionable moment that I spent with them. Some gentlemen came up, Pakistani I think, asking a question with a tone demanding an answer. I forgot what he asked, but his short swim trunks showed his shrinkage sticking out. He asked about if someone can take a picture, or if there are sharks in the water, I do not quite remember. The response he got by one of the island boys was, "You have banana!" All the dread heads laughed. The man quite confused repeating back, "Banana?" Then my friend said again, "The wata, have piranha for your banana!" I laughed out loud with everyone else, the man noticing that nothing he demanded was being taken serious, whatever status he had, was completely nonexistent. He was reduced to our fool, the entertainment for that moment. The man walked away, and it was back to me and them. I pulled out a cigarette, looked at each one of them individually in the eye, watching their wide faces shift, their colors twist, their smiles grow, their eyes were sending signals unknown. Who are these people? Where the fuck am I? Then my friend looked at me with a twisted smile and said, "Welcome to the jungle my friend.."

"Where are you staying?" "I'm not" "When are you going back?" "Sometime today?" "Do you have a ticket?" "Yeah." "Where is it?" "With me" "What time?" "Uhh.." "Which company?" "Not sure" "Gimme your ticket." All these questions coming from all of them at once started tripping me out! I almost started panicking because I was starting to feel that unsafe feeling thinking that these guys wanted to steal my ticket, but I knew that these were all fear based thoughts and I need to conquer this moment of weakness and find balance. I was hesitant to pull my wallet out in front of them, especially in the mental state I was in, but I figured since I do need to head back today that I am forced to deal with this sooner than later. I opened my ticket, one of them snatched it from my hand, I watched them pass it around, searching for the time and location of my departure and looking for when and where I needed to be, I saw concern rise in their faces. "Brother, if you no check in before 1 PM then you stuck!" I was not trying to stress out over it because I knew that everything was going to work out regardless. But they kept emphasizing that I needed to get my move on so I took their advice, said my farewell and casually walked away. Just like that I was on my way!

As I was walking, everything was still moving. Anyone with skin, I could see movement within. The clock was past 1 PM and I realized I had no idea where to go. I thought I finally reached the area where I first arrived on the boat, so I asked some random officer who was patrolling the station where I should go. "Show me your ticket." I was stuck on his face, it couldn't stop moving. His gaze into my eyes was telling me that he knew, "Keep it together!" I told myself. I put the water bottle down, my movements were quick with brief patient pauses in between each action. Grab my wallet, flip it open, reach for my ticket, unfold my ticket, hand it to the officer, wait for his response. Act.. normal?

"Wahana that way" he said. So the name of the company was 'Wahana'. Okay. I started walking 'that way' hurriedly as I realized I was running out of time. I walked quite a way, I asked a random guy, "Wahana?" "That way" So I must've walked past it. I'm looking at every shop now looking for this 'Wahana'. I can't find it. I get back approximately where I first asked the officer. "Wahana?" "That way!" I'm running out of time. I pace back and forth, shorter increments each way screaming "Wahana" getting pointed back and forth until I find the center of the approximate location of this mysterious "Wahana" place. Finally, I see a familiar blue shirt, with a logo on it, the logo said,  Wahana! There was no sign on the building, there was no name written anywhere, regardless of the facts, I found it. Was I too late? Let's see.

The gentlemen standing in the front told me that check-in was 2:30 and we were leaving 3:00 PM sharp. As his face wouldn't stop moving, as soon as I heard 2:30 check-in, I stepped away, took a mental picture of platform 9 3/4 just so I don't have to go on another scavenger hunt in order to find this place. Now with my mind at ease, I had another relaxing hour to enjoy my trip. I went back to a mini mart to buy some more water, stepping in I saw the million different colors getting fused together. As I am paying for my water, the lady asks me where I am from, "America". I smile, she smiles, I walk out, I enjoy conversations with strangers when the minimal amount of words are spoken.

Shall I go back to my friends? I decided not too, I had my fun with them. This time I went to find a more suitable spot on the beach where I could vibe out and really think about everything at once. I found a nice area in the sand that had a view with no distractions, just open water and the horizon. Whether I opened my eyes or closed them, all could see were all different types of women dancing. Lost in the moment, waiting for me. Girls were everywhere, is this what I've been reduced too? But why have I been denying myself of this? It's not the denial part, it's the part that I cannot cope with my own nature. Am I as simple as the base needs that grow rapidly at moments where all else seizes? It's not you it's me, yet how can I deny the part that you play? 

Then it all levels out, content. A breeze over a smile embracing simplicity. I thought about my grandfather, knowing that when I return, the first thing we would both do is smirk, him understanding all the mayhem I got into. Then came my past love, the sadness I ignore, the love I had, the fiancee I held. How it's all gone, just a glimpse that will soon be lost, just as another story told and that story itself will soon grow old. How I'm still gathering myself from giving my all and falling on my face. How the steps I took in response to my slow deterioration seemed as if it was all a drastic measure taken at a wrong time. What right time was there? I held you, at times it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. You broke me down, only to make me realize what I've known all along, that I was already broken, I've moved on plenty of times, even in the saddest moments, I still wouldn't cry. My face stayed dry. You never wondered why? You just wrote it off as me not loving you enough or questioning if I ever did. It was my fault  that I placed so much weight on your words that were never really meant. Words words words...

I gave up on you, I gave up on us. I used to love you and when I did you made me feel it wasn't enough. You hurt me, I opened my heart to be fully yours, maybe you weren't ready for real love, maybe you just needed to be cured. I grew tired, I've changed in result of our days, I used to be lighthearted but now my heart feels all of its weight. Weight of needless troubles and trifles and stress and burdens and fear of a lonely life living alone never finding someone to be so certain, but I ask you is that what we were, just an insurance policy to make sure that we had someone next to us not to feel lonely when we sleep? It was more than that, it was something that grew deep, unexpected through the sex we connected, budding heads at moments where instead of acceptance we built resentment. Maybe we were too different, maybe maybe maybe. 

It doesn't matter now, I'm gone. I'm not yours. You lost me. We can blame each other, I blame you. I never wanted this, yet this is what we've become. Two people looking back at the days when we were young. That's no way to look. The direction is wrong. Life is short, we need to be strong. I know that I am, you say you are too. I hope you find love and I hope I do too. That is all, this is goodbye. I need to say my words to untangle inside.....







So now I'm back to where Wahana is. I already checked in with the clerk, he wrote down my name, gave me a shuttle ticket from the harbor to Kuta, his face was still moving. He saw my name and asked me if I was Muslim, "sure". "Ramadan is coming up, you fasting?" he asked me. "I think I'll try it this year, give it a go." Confused by my response he continued the conversation looking at me with pity, his energy wasn't weak or hateful, neither was it positive or blissful. I felt something from him just a step above indifference. Whatever that word could be. I waited out front, waited and waited. Some guy and his wife sat next to me. Tried to talk to me about basic tourist topics, "Hey how was your trip? Do any snorkeling? How long did you stay?" I stared him dead in the eye and replied, "I just came for the day to try some shrooms, and boy oh boy are they strong!" As if I told him I just murdered someone, his face twisted with agony, panicking! I have become unpredictable in his eyes, what will I do next? The basic level of some of these tourist. I watched people scatter as the departure was delayed, wives forcing their husbands to 'talk to someone and figure this out'. Complaining and whining, the same shit just like everywhere else. People hunched over, on their phones, on their phones. The same story being written here, the same song being sang over there.

I kept looking at my hand to measure my trip, things were still moving. Our boat finally arrived and all the passengers grabbed their luggage, dragged it through the sand, waited for the arriving passengers to get off, then it was our turn to board. Once we got on board there were two more stops before heading back towards the main harbor. We were told we couldn't go upstairs to the upper deck until the first two stops were made, fair enough. I waited and looked around at the other people waiting to sit on the upper deck as well, "I don't understand why we cannot go now?" I heard multiple times from multiple people. No one understands what contradicts with their basic wants. As time did pass, with the same speed it always has, I make my way up to the upper deck, the wonderful rooftop with a flat surface with only rails at its side. It felt like a lifetime since I was up here last. Now the rooftop was empty, compared to the morning ride that was packed with more than 30 people, now there was about 10 people lounging around. The crew members were the same people from the morning trip and they remembered me, I owed 15k for a beer I had earlier that day, I didn't have enough money and told them I would pay them the rest later, he agreed. He didn't care so much about the money I owed as he did towards the fact I was going back and forth the same day, that wasn't a popular thing to do. "What's that boss? Only one day?" he asked with that similar Balinese grin. "I just had to find some Island magic and once I found it, well time to go boss!" I replied. He laughed and offered me a torch for my cigarette, asked me some questions about myself, why I was traveling alone, which I enjoyed being asked. We laughed throughout our conversation as we both half understood what we were saying to each other and once the boat was far enough from the Island, it hit full speed, the music was back on, I stretched my legs and took it all in. The view on this boat ride is incredible.

My shroom trip was winding down, my trip as a whole was nearing its end, my last day was almost over. I accomplished what I came here for, laying on my back watching the sky, feeling the last effects slowly wash away. Whether I found answers or instructions regarding what to do in my life, I found stability and distance from events in my life that required healing. Everything felt that much further away. The past doesn't need to be forgotten but merely accepted, and then it can be utilized as a helpful resource gearing up to take on the future. I felt harmony, I felt my center peace, I felt the ending of everything, all that is around me, then I felt life.




I have made my changes, the last six years years compared to the last three months have been the contrast of each other. I felt myself slipping into a cage of repetitive habit, habits that made me weak, denying the influence of my environment, my pride wouldn't let me admit to certain truths. I was at a constant battle regarding all my base desires, slowly letting these needs take charge of my life, being limited to my weakness. How can I climb out of my position? I used to believe that free will and choice was able to be exercised at any point in life, I see it differently now. I do not have the freedom I thought I did standing within a certain four falls, environment, or place. These four walls dictate my feelings, my reactions, and my decisions. The type of life that is presented in environment 'x' forces me to deal with it's circumstances a certain way whereas in other environments these certain challenges or influences simply do not exist. Whether or not I gave in to certain actions that were pressed on me, or to deny its overall effect, was to live life constantly losing time and not realizing it. If I live in a place surrounded by people that drink and smoke all the time, I am constantly faced with the challenge of accepting or denying an invitation. This is where I used to believe choice and freedom lay. Believing that if you deny the invitation then you are exercising freedom and demonstrating discipline, this is only half accurate. Discipline yes but where does the freedom lie when I am constantly being pressed by the same matter, knowing that it's going to happen again and again. Why be in a place that has all the variables set up for me to resist and deny? Constant familiar weight being pushed down attempting to cripple my energy. Where is the freedom and choice? The choice that is being made is accepting the crippling environment and the freedom does not exist within because I am surrounded by a cage, a cage created with temptations aimed at my base desire. Being in this chosen environment is the cause, so therefore choosing the environment has to be the the solution.

My choices are limited to what the environment offers, so if I am being offered a constant struggle, then what is happening to all my time? True freedom lies in the proper choice to a fitting environment. The choice I have, the true free choice, is the environment that I select. If I pick an environment that does not have all the challenges that are aimed at my base desires, doesn't that give me much more time for progress, positivity, and success? If the idea of freedom is limited by variables within a chosen environment and accepting that true freedom and choice does not lie at this lower chamber of life, then real freedom and choice doesn't exist within the environment but only exists in the choice of the environment itself. I was surrounded by toxic people with no drive or ambition and my pride made me believe that the environment wouldn't and couldn't have its affect on me. To admit that it did, was to admit that I was weak, or not as strong as I thought. But how I measured strength was all wrong itself, because the true strength lay in changing everything that was causing my slow deterioration, not letting my pride dictate terms keeping me locked into the same perpetual state. So there it was, my realization was formed through all my experiences. The freedom to choose an environment and accepting the variables within opposed to letting the wind dictate where I land and fighting the variables believing that this is what freedom and choice truly is.

Striving for a higher level of consciousness and awareness will guide us to a higher level of freedom. Now I have chosen a lifestyle where I am not fighting my urges constantly, even though my desires and needs still exist. Understanding myself, how humanity functions, and learning where freedom and choice truly exists has given me the option to choose a lifestyle that is most suitable for my goals and dreams. The natural human temptations already live inside of me, it is a constant battle on its own. I was not helping myself by further surrounding myself by the same temptations, placing them all around me. Controlling myself from the inside while fighting everything on the outside, this will result in mental exhaustion and eventually I will give in to the toxicity of the environment. Not today.





Now I made it back to the Harbor, hopped on my shuttle after being swarmed by bunch of unlicensed people wanting to take my shuttle ticket. I sat in the back and headed back to my Hostel, I couldn't wait to sleep. The driver drove as reckless as ever, he seemed like a natural. After dropping off a few passengers before me, I was dropped off one block away from my Hostel, I told him it was no problem that I can walk the rest of the way. I was experiencing a high, my head was in the clouds, I was feeling good! My time in Bali was coming to an end and I was ready for it, my trip wasn't too long or too short, it was just enough. First thing I did when I got back to my Hostel was take a nice hot shower, I smelled terrible. I turned on the hot water, soaked up my hair and my body, I immediately realized how badly I was sunburned. I wash out the cut on my head, which has formed into a hard scab, I shampoo and soap up, finishing off with a cold rinse, hop out and change into some fresh clean clothe, turn around and see a familiar face. Ladies and gentlemen, the return of Mad Max!

The sight of Max made me burst out into laughter, I haven't seem him since he fell asleep at Sky Garden where after we miraculously ran into each other while we both hobbled home at three in the morning. He was laughing as well and told me that the next day, he slept until 2 pm, went to the restroom, and back to bed. He was out of commission. Max and I were eager to catch up and talk about each others adventures so we decided to go to the rooftop for one last meeting. We both talked and laughed, I told him about my adventures of the next two days, about how I went to Sky Garden again, the night after I went with him. He laughed and enjoyed my stories when another familiar face made its way up to the rooftop. It was Sir Lawrence. I already told Max about Lawrence and vice versa, so we all sat down, drank and laughed, discussed our future plans, ordered food, ate and talked some more. I couldn't have asked for a better way to end the trip! As the clock struck nine, knowing I was on about two hours of sleep, having a long day, I was starting to crash. I said my final goodbyes, this was all of our last night. I went downstairs, climbed up on my bunk, laid my head and dozed off.

I woke up at 11 AM and checkout time was 12 PM. First, I went and got some breakfast. I was served two small pancakes, each the size of a hockey puck, alongside with some fruit. After I enjoyed my breakfast with some hot tea I knew that there was a problem that needed dealing with. The problem was that I needed to pack. Also, another problem was that I rolled up all my sweaty dirty laundry into one clumped up pile, so I did what was best, shoved it all in my bag without any organization. My goal was to be packed and ready by 12 PM, believe it or not, I was making good time. As noon came around, I checked out of my room and told the front desk that I was going to wait around till my flight, which was at 8:40 PM. It was no problem they said, so I was laying around at the rooftop, and I began writing about my experiences, which leads us to the beginning of this piece, it leads us to the end.

I am not one to give advice because I do not believe in giving advice to those who do not ask for it. I believe giving advice that isn't asked for is counterproductive. The aim behind advice is to help one change perspective thinking that it is needed. The one giving unasked advice makes assumptions on multiple accounts. One, that their advice is needed. Two, that their advice is fitting to the assumed situation. Speculations and assumptions. As if it is all surrounded around the fact that the person giving advice only likes the sound of their voice. That is what I put my money on.

My intention behind sharing my story is just to try and give the wold back what it has given me. Letting myself be a tool of transcension. We deserve what we want more than what others want for us. Other than the strive for self-discovery, the search of ones character, the journey of our lives, what else do we have? We lose everything when we die, even our most cherished memories. Yet it is these memories I live for, and by writing them, I hope they live forever as they echo through the minds of the readers. And if you have read this, I thank you, I thank you for keeping me alive. I could not ask for anything else.