Hokers disfigerment and delays
Trip Start
Feb 03, 2010
1
26
27
Trip End
Apr 15, 2010
Porto Seguro, State of Bahia, Brazil
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
So I'm haveing my ear pearced and I'm shit sceard! Not the sort of fear walking to the air port, that was jumping off a clife. I started thinking about that moment. Walking down the ile with a kind dread. Like I was going to space never comeing back. I was long gone. Off to pandora, not knowing what to expect. But I did it so I can do...
She just did it and I'm haveing a fag to carm down. Righting was a nice distraction. Still herts a bit and I have an earge to poke it. Its like when I broke my colar bone. I was desprat to feel allong my sholder to know with my hands what was there and more importantly what was new. But I couldent the potentual for what it might be was to terafing. In the same way I can't reach up and touch it yet.
The woman was very profetinal, sterile nedle coverd in hospital pacaging, witch she put into a rather full biohaxard box. Wore rubber gluves and marked were she would pearce with a red plastic-sergons pen.
Its a sort of tearing feeling like pushing a skewer through raw meet but on the other end of the sensation. Witch, I supose, is what it is.
Still shake but I got a picture of my disfiger, in the operating room mirow.
I touched it now, the metal feels strangly warm like my skin tempratcher already.
Few!
That was brave!
****
women have to deal with a lot, they have child bearth mood swings sexual inaquality and harasment from all the latin men that they hapen to walk past but there are a few things that men have to deal with that women dont. for me one of them is protituets. its so unplesent the hungry eyes that they lay on you as you walk past or sit at outside a corner food and drink stand. they pass compliments and make a grab at your hair or sit oposit you and coment on your ringless finger. the fiscule predetory nature of there vulgur flertation is feels so perverted and charmless. not like a street seller or a shop owner saying that you look like kerk cobain and trying to talk about manchester united but a pationless sirup of giuyl and inuendo that is like drips like sewage and smells like cheep perfume. call it a pet hait of mine.
well porto seguro was plaged with them. there were more than there were moscitos, and no one sold repelent. porto seguro was a holoday town it was a trobridge fair ground or a brighton peer. full of squat over priced markets full of games that dident exist, fakes and porly translated titles of copyed dvds. there were a few internet caffays ventelated by inefective fans and the rest was franchises.
it felt a bit like a servies station come pacage holoday resort. infact i wonder if it serves that perpers. a pacage holoday resort as the feeling of the places is all to remenicent of yorksher sun seekers off for a boze fuled carnal. thought the cleontel arnt gringos.
there all brazilians from san powlow or brazilia.
i spoke to a french ex dimond merchant who lemented afracas education, preventing him from making a decent margen anymore. he told me he was board of the town and had been living there 2 years with a girl he had met, he was board of her to. he told me that there is monny to be made in brazil. just have to know how to squez it out. as he sucked on his oversized cigar spiling ash down his rather portly figer. the man made me think about how comershaly directed the place realy was, i was looking forward to leaveing.
***
my bus was set to leave at 6 so i had spent the hours from 9 till 3 failing to get to sleep and the hours 4 till 5.30 failing to wake up. it ternd out my bus was wrong. and though they let me change the ticket with out paying mutch more i now had 16 hours to kill till my acutal bus left.]
i whent to the mall and made a bit of contact with home, its not always a good idear. the more you start to think about were you belong the more you are forced to consider were you are. in the end it left me in a bit of a tail spin and i was stuck thinking about history and what it ment to me. the people of the northen russha and alot of the inuet tripes do something call panning. it involves drilling a hole in the scul. the idear is that it alows thoughts to move freely and it is also an efort to conect to the gods. i was thinking about that old storie and practise when i deceded all of a suden that i was going to get my ear pearced. it was like a mimic of the rituals the inuets practiced in the hope that my small gesture towards it would have the same afect on me. py pearching my ear all the messy stuf in my head might come leacking out.
latter, still fingering the wound i got onto the bus, looking around for people that might be heading to the same place i was.
another restless night trying to stay awake, so as not to miss my stop.
from the back of a bus i wish you all the best.
x
