Morocco was brutal. Not at all like what I expected. There were bits of fun here and there, which are what I mostly remember now anyways. I hated every bit of the gelogical shit bits of it, well i guess at the moment! Now it looks kinda cool what we did! Like crazy idiots measuring a 1.5 km long mountain with a 8 m meter under a 40 degree sky!
But there was that moment when we all jumped in the pool and teased each other and drank beer and got drunk half way through the first beer. Away from internet, away from phones, in a wasted floating world stuck with real people all day long. Away from knowing who’s doing what and who’s doing who.
I guess I am rolling everyday in this horrible situation I created. Dusts of past, stuck to me, covering my whole body, not being able to wash them off. I suppose the more I try to get the off they stick harder because I sweat so hard.
And there is that moment, over and over and over again. That one moment when I think I’m alright. And I tell myself it’s behind me, it all is, then I see or recall and it’s all back again.
But I have a plan, I always do. Lots of them. I always know whats wrong and how to fight. Except I’m a little Alice, I give myself very good advice but I hardly ever listen to them. Hurting and hurting and getting to know myself on the way. But i have a plan.
I have a plan
I have a plan
and I already feel better. Because this is one of those moments, when I tell myself it’s all behind me.