Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Alcohol is a dangerous thing. It is also a useful tool if used properly. In the same way a near-death experience invokes a sudden passion for life, being drunk (a near-stupid experience) can also ignite a glorious celebration of one's creative faculties.

If not, sobering up gives a keen recognition of the sound arguments the senses can propose when not clouded by foreign chemicals.

Written while enjoying a beer and reading "The Monkey Wrench Gang" in the backyard of Brian's grandparents' house/ranch in Oregon at around 10:30 in the morning.
As you probably suspected, I am in Klamath Falls, Oregon, wildy aggravating the local townfolk.

As spring break dawned on me this year, I decided to forego the usual drunken debauchery in Mexico for a week of quiet exploration of Northwestern America.

So far, it has been pretty quiet.