Madrid

Finally went to bed this morning, 6 am, Spain. I started this trip, slash the preparation there of on a Friday at 6:15 EST, the States. Its Sunday now, Madrid. Local Time 1:47 PM. I note that I was awake and traveling for over 40 hours.

I got into la Capital at about 23:30, their time. My friend met me at the airport. The amount of travel delays and sorted misfortunes were so great as to be comedic...or cliche. Hard to say for such an inexperienced American to judge. Although I do judge myself woman, first.

The scene out the window is so picturesque. And yet, it makes me a little sad. I wasn't expecting else how. I wasn't expecting anything. But it tugs at my core, even still.

And the traveling wasn't all bad. Loads of people helped me through Chicago, Dublin and Madrid. The Only persons I myself approached and initiated conversation with did not find my company tasteful. No, the young couple did not want to hang out in Dublin with me while we waited for seperate flights to Spain.

But a young French Student spent an hour of our mutual time pointing out things I could see in France and complaining about Kilo charges for travel within the EU by plane.
To me, weight determines fuel so the charges make sense. I neglected to say this, however, due in part to the first of a few travel observations.
Sometimes, people just want to complain.
Unless it puts me past a point I can't take I hear them out. I understand where she is coming from. The fact that she had 23 kilos with her makes sense when you consider she was living abroad for 6 months. Dublin in fact, and I may visit her in Lyon.
The music out the window has changed course so many times that it is filling the sky with colors pure vibrate and full bodied. I've become drunk on its sound and I must stop here.

I cannot date these though perhaps I should. I will just skip lines between entries. I wanted to keep a record online of my time abroad but the Internet is so far and in between. I just have this one journal, this one mirror for my thoughts.

I am quite sick.

Feeling a little better just now. I still must blink back hear from my eyelids. I listened to my friend's Flamenco Guitar Lesson this night. Even with a fever coming on and my mind made of sand I enjoyed the intricacies woven by the players all around. It was hard to remain seated. The Music pulsed through me. I was not permitted to take photos. I gave two kisses, not one. One is the Gypsy way. I was unaware. My Spanish is atrocious. My mouth is studded with Spanish Cotton. The trees so young. So far from La Mer. Il n'est pas pour moi.

I offered to leave.

My friend and I have worked out our issues. I am still planning to leave by Thursday, not next Sunday. Spain Spanish seemed wrong to my American ears. My bowels are finally moving. The Sexual situation is awkward. My friend is an old friend, an almost lover. So much has changed, so much has not. I am ready to put Madrid behind me. Put France on my plate. Leave this heat--Christ, its only June.

I am in a hotel. Lying across both beds, an Aquarius open and half full to my right. Outside traffic and birds play upon my ear-drums. Gently. Distantly. I am still in Madrid although the city seems quiet different. Here is the letter I thought about leaving my friend

Dear Evans,

I did not want to be here when you woke up, I have mealy tolerated your arrogance and insecurities for days. I don't know if your ego is wrapped up in how small your cock is, but never seeing it again will be one of life's little favors. Sorry I hurt you so much back in College and that you never meant very much to me. It was a mistake to visit you in Spain and the hand job I gave you was only to get rid of you and get some sleep. I really had no idea it was so small compared to other partners I've been with. (And to think, you insisted I bring you magnum xl's from the states!)
I will have to figure out how to get around Madrid on my own but at least now I don't need to watch you roam around your apartment flexing the fat covered muscles on your grotesquely hairless form. I guess in the end I still think of you as that same 19 year old kid who only feels secure when people want him. Sorry, but sex with you would amount to little more than rape.

I still think you're gay, so long, and thanks for all the fish.

Instead I wrote, so long, and thanks for all the fish.

The Metro system in Madrid is very good. But as I said, Spain Spanish sounds wrong to me. It is ugly. It is lazy. Come to the Americas if you want to hear Spanish. You have to leave Spain to even learn how to speak it! Oh, and I prefer corn-syrup in my coke, too.

Airport, Madrid. Obviously I'm too early. I tried meeting a friend once last night, and again today.
I ate alone in a bar for dinner.

A simple meal.

Served with olives and bread. It was a kind of stew: chorizo, jamon, and cow stomach and tongue. A tad salty. A futball game was on. Spain vs the USA. I soon was the only one left in the bar with four local men. I left when the US took the lead. It was getting late, besides. And in such a touristed district I though it wise to be home with my passport safely stowed. I feel like hell. I just ate half a plate for fries and deep dried drumsticks. I don't zactly know how to speak Spanish and I keep accidental using French so I've mostly just eaten whatever the person in front of me had.

Last night was luxurious. I wish a lover had been there to see how the soft light played upon the ocean of my skin. The bath was big enough for two. As was the bed. I watched some stupid TV about a senator who fucked an friend while pretending he was on the AT. Still can't figure out how that was news. Fidelity expectations screw with people. I wish we could all be a little more secure in our sexual dealings, in our personal relationships, in ourselves. Then marriage would be less of a constraint. More of a partnership. But what the hell do I know really.

There have been some hawt guys in Spain. But they really haven't looked twice. And if they had, I would still have to hear their accents. Madrid is pleasant and easy to navigate. The metro is clean and well maintained. My bed last night was deep and crisp. I sunk into it with wet legs and endured the purring of nextroom lovers.
Until sleep found me and sweetly took me by the hand.

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