it gets harder and harder to come back to the real world, it looks so unnatural when seen in the light, in fact im pretty sure reality is not worth the space-time its printed on. been back a few days now and still in decompression. costa was pure living. like hawaii and mexico and jamaica and africa all mixed up in a cool fruit smoothy and served beachside. did a bunch of nothing. ate a bunch of food. had a bunch of cosmic experiences. saw all kinds of fish, a huge blue iguana, and a monkey or two. it was decadence, double chocolate fudge frosting on the cake of my summer, not to mention a good cure for the gun in the face experience. cant ever say thank you enough. new orleans is currently swirling in a cool hurricane breeze and im spending my days in my underwear reading hunter s., looking at shells and wondering where the road leads  next. looks like a blank piece of space-time sitting in front of me. hurray for freedom. hurray for life. cant wait to see you all and pass the tales and shells ive picked up for you.   thankfully,  ~b "in the cab i leaned back and lit a small cigar i'd bought in the coffee shop. i was feeling better now, warm and sleepy and absolutely free. with the palms zipping past and the big sun burning down on the road ahead, i had a flash i hadnt felt since my first months in europe - a mixture of arrogance and a loose, 'what the hell' kind of confidence that comes on a man when the wind picks up and he begins to move in a hard straight line toward an unknown horizon."                                  ~h.s.thompson