My days of yore

Back home, back in that hopelessly chaotic and messy house that subsitutes as my base, my life in a nutshell as written down and sketched in my numerous notebooks, packed high and beyond all around the house collecting dust like the rest of this 425 Euro a month rent existence concrete montrosity that is slowly sinking into the Amsterdam morass...

Maybe I should return to my former life, throw all and everything that passes for possessions away with the trash that litters the rainy streets of this Dutch capital, put my thump up along Europe's roads, or else take a plane to Obama's republic of financial woe and live like a hobo, maybe once more endure the madness of Magic Land  (India you know) or the heat of the Thai Kindom, cycling in Bandido rife Mexico and hope these infamous highway bandits believe that Pauvre Moi the Gringo Loco is so poor he has to cycle the world on a Bicicleta and therefore not worthy of their attention...

Back home and away from my years of yore, always on the run but unable to figure out from what...maybe I would enjoy it better this time around...