I'm still here trucking along, friends. My connection to reality suffered a lapse for a few weeks due to a cavalcade of the unexpected unknown and unfortunate, but adventures have continued nonetheless.
Wales had over a week of beautiful, warm sunshine, which I got to really enjoy the tail end of in my own fashion. There were nights of searching and arguments about life, creativity, and how to interpret Hunter S. Thompson. There was sitting in the park reading On The Road and being distracted by all the happy dogs racing around in the sunshine. One particularly beautiful boxer caught my eye. If he hadn't been so clearly in ecstasy to be racing back and forth in Bute park, I might've been afraid of him -he was big, muscular and brown, like a larger male version of my cousins' old boxer, Zelda. His owner and two female friends were playing games with him; hide and seek, fetch, and all the rest. It's good to stop and watch the animals sometimes, even the dumb stumbling pigeons that I'm always worried are going to shit on me while I walk under the train bridge.
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