These days.

This entry was more than overdue. I'm sorry I stopped blogging for almost two months, but I was out there having the time of my life. As for not taking the time to write the last month, I have to admit I've been just lazy. Sue me.
I'm back to the good old letters because I desperatedly need to find my smart self again. To tell the truth, I'm terryfied it has left me forever. I'm also back to writting in an attempt of protecting myself from self-destruction. I'm undergoing a stage of self loathing. After feeling immortal, glorious, and on top of the world in Europe, I come here to find I've gained weight, my hair is a mess, and my techniques for flirting - that proved super effective in London, are not taking me anywhere in here. For a month, wherever I went, I was sort of a celebrity and leave alone a exotic Latin American. I came back and people here think I'm the same, not willing to give credit to what I have achieved or learned in all this time. Oh, well, "At least I still have my writing to show the world I'm still here" I thought, and here I am almost begging a muse to come around and strike me with inspiration. If I don't come up with something good soon, I can oficially consider myself a waste of oxygen.
Skin problems and rashes do not help the self deprecating feeling either. I wish it were like Black Swan and the leprosy were only in my head. Having broken up with my lover doesn't do me well either. For the first time in a long time I felt like I was building something with somebody, but life proved me wrong. Oh, well, "At least I have my writing" I thought. Gotta think again.
Food barely tastes like anything. No joke is good enough to laugh aloud and freely. I got a job in the same exchange office that arranged my trip to Europe, and I love what I've been doing there, but the moment I leave my desk, I'm a hollow man again. This is what getting off the ride feels like.
I would be unfair with my Costa Rican friends if I said I'm not glad to meet up with them again, but I've come back in a moment in which everybody's gotta a life but me - and I have zero motivation to look for one outside my job.
I hope this entry doesn't come across as a lot of bitching. Reality isn't that great these days, and that's all I have to say. The saddest part is that I'm not looking for sympathy. I wouldn't know what to do with it. "Oh, Isaac, this troubled kid..."
These days, these days--can't wait to talk about them as in the past.