My World (and other pointless observations)

I've gathered that chickens aren't very bright.

People expect you to lead awkward conversations.

Music instantly livens up long trips.

I want to drive endlessly, just listening to music from my favourite artists and never arriving at our chosen destination.

I want to travel. 

Around the world. 

With someone.

And we can drive around these small towns in South America, chatting up locals and listening to their strange tales about the country. 

Then we can try the local cuisine: deep-fried insects; marinaded bushmeat; assorted leaky, rubbery vegetables; meats adorned in spices of the world and of course: rice.

We'll explore the countryside. 

In a busted up little red truck with dust collected in every crevice of it's exterior.

And then the car breaks down but we hitchhike a ride from a passing vehicle driven by a local who doesn't speak a lick of English. 

It will all be so deliciously dangerously inviting.

And then we'll return to our dingy hotel room that we found on the Internet and I booked the tickets even though you advised me not to.

And then we'll make love or fuck, depending on our mood.

We fuck.

Then after that, we'll eat unhealthy junkfood: naked whilst watching Latin-American soap operas in Spanish, laughing at each other as we attempt to untangle the web of lies sewn by the attractive daughter.

We'll visit historic landmarks and take dozens of pictures of ourselves pulling faces and kissing in front of statues.

Most of these won't be posted online, as my insecurities cause us to have a fight and not talk to each other for the whole night. 

In the aftermath of our fight, I realize how stupid I was.

I turn to you and run my nails down your back.

I apologize. 

You promise to take new pictures, with us dressed in all black.

You turn to me and pull me close.

And this time, we make love.

                  -"XO".