i was congested, half my face a solid block
tired and restless and lost trying to make normal out of foreign
the person with me, a dark haired female who was more stranger than friend at the moment, was angry and frustrated.
i recounted my day's activities-cleaning topped the list
then i realized i was out of country
weren't we in portugal? why was i cleaning an apartment and watching television?
lets hop on a train and explore, i'll look up some sights or find an english guide book
or we can just land at random
no.
i determine to go myself and not waste an opportunity.
in my room the lower bunk looks slept in and suddenly strangers are behind me taking books,
journals, note cards...am i in their room? dried plant remnants on the slept in bed are hard to tell if they're unintended debris from an outdoor days activities or left intentionally as memorial or witchcraft.
suddenly the urge to explore and adventure is washed away
feeling confused and lost and wanting to go home but uncertain where that even is anymore.