The Lost Walk

My emotions are in tumult. The anger in me is swirling like storm clouds. There is so much that upsets me, that pisses me off, but seldom do I make that fact known. The struggle is that I seem to be perpetually unsatisfied. I wonder is there anything in this life that will give me the deep kick the whole way through? If there is I haven’t found it yet but I will not be giving up anytime soon.

Several times on this Mexican Journey I have made points about not giving up. Giving up IS NOT an option. The first time I made that point was at dinner with my Grandpa and Grandma the evening after I landed in Mexico City. Abuelo and I were talking about music and I said that giving up is not an option. I meant it about music but subconsciously I made the point about life. Giving up on life is not an option, even as enticing as it may seem at times. There is much I have yet to do in this place so I can’t be giving up the ghost before it is my time.

I starting this trip expecting to be in an art museum but the gallery was closed all evening for a private event so I was left gravely disappointed. It would seem I will not get the chance to see this exhibition that I was looking forward to greatly. My greater intention for this trip is to my my respects to my Grandma Esther and it looks like I will only have enough time in this city to complete only one of my two goals for my time in this city.

Later I found myself on a short stoop under a canopy as the rain drizzled. The city was quiet. Across the street stood three trees adorned with orange flowers. A power line ran between them and a pair of blue shoes dangled.

I walked up and half-way down Nebraska Street to clear my head a bit. A man in a suit stepped out of his car. I wondered if he’s any different from the suits of the U.S.

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