Saturday, August 29, 2009

Chapter 6: Nomads Don't Have Homes, They Have Shelters

there is just too much. too much i have seen, smelt, dealt, done, been. i kinda of resent the modern age, technology, my stupid blog. you get a fragment of me, advertised and publicized. nothing is personal anymore. face to face. i feel pushy. like if i don't have what i want now. i mean- now. this instant this second this very moment, all my cells will combust and i will explode bigger than any guatemalan firework lit in the earliest of morning hours.
okay. i'm being a bit dramatic. but what ever happened to diaries or storytelling. i guess it all died with anne franks and people who lived before this time. i am a blog of contradictions. because i firmly convince you that i am somehow am beyond the present. that in someway i resonate with something ancestral. this clearly is not the case. i am as transparent as plastic wrap. the very fact that i update my blog, my web pics, makes me in it. i just resent that i can't give an accurate depiction of my life. what are the facts... i am stilling currently living in guatemala city, i am in my second year of teaching the third grade in a private bilingual school, i love with all my heart being a teacher and constantly fret that i am somehow not cut out to be an educator of young minds. i socialize them. i teach them right from wrong. it is my job to insure that they utilize their creativity and intelligence. who am i to be doing these things? what makes me so privileged to be so accountable for their minds, bodies, and spirits?
i don't have solid answers to these questions. i am just a dreamer who believes that the world is full of infinite possibilities waiting to be experienced, embraced, and loved. sometimes there are people who are dreamkillers. i am not a dreamkiller hater though because i understand that people who kill the dreams of others have at one time encountered the killing possibly mass murdering of their very own dreams.
all this babble probably sounds irrelevant and uninformative. you might be thinking to yourself- what the fuck does this have to do with living in guatemala, traveling, or life in general. well i don't really know how it all adds up, but i feel destined upon a path a journey of self discovery. you don't really have to fly to central america to live. life is happening whether you like it or not. and it is up to you whether you participate in all its badness and all its goodness. of course it is very thrilling to pack your bags and step into the great unknown. i have begun to realize that the strange and unfamiliar feels like home. i am no more foreign here as it is foreign to me.
in a few simple words... inside vida i am where i want to be.

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