I just booked a ticket, I did it last night, to pay for my upcoming long-distance flight, back to my dear Bali, that I'd left in May, in this small-town hellhole I'll no longer stay. This place dulls my feelings, it makes me feel glum, it leaves its inhabitants addled and dumb, it fosters their habits of boozing and sloth – there's poop on the doorsteps and pee in the broth. I acted on impulse, I should stay a bit, to finish my business and duties and shit, but I've held me captive here for long enough, denied myself loving and bought too much stuff. Therefore it's to Bali, to surf and compose, to craft some more cunning and dastardly prose, to meet a fine lady, perhaps settle down, to set up a new life on fine foreign ground. I'm braced for the fallout from my recent act, it's off to the airport with no looking back, please wish me a good time, please wish me the best, from you friend I'd expect not one smidgen less.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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