The days here are full of wonder and the nights are full of terror. Too much tequila and now I’m waiting for transcendence during the trainwreck of karaoke hour.

You didn’t think it would be this easy to feel this bad at a four star resort in the Carribean. But it is. Every happy couple, every laughing family, every overweight tourist by the pool is a reminder of how horribly wrong things have gone. You’re drunk all the time and have started pretending you don’t speak english so you can argue with the hustlers on the beach about the price of palm leaf hats in a mixture of terrible spanish and rude hand gestures. Still, all is not lost, you are getting a lot of reading done.

We touch down and the tropical depression hits almost immediately. The heat hits me as soon as I step off the plane, and the smell, that wonderful smell of heat and ocean makes me think for a moment that everything is going to be okay. But then the crowded terminal and waiting for the luggage, my lousy Spanish. Everyone here is young, old, or has children and I don’t know how I wound up here.