Shid-knee

This morning I awoke to the wonderful aroma of the guy in the bunk above me dumping four gallons of Axe/Tag body spray directly into my sinuses and throat. The smell is so nice; I’m sure that he’ll spit many a dope a game with the ladies today. I ate breakfast and came back and the entire 8-bunk room was still stenched completely. The fact that the Sydney Railway Square youth hostel is probably the best I’ve stayed in made me forget the cologne attack, though. I sit in the communal living room now, the sun going down in the big windows between financial buildings of Sydney.

I admit, the last entry I wrote in Okinawa was pretty wack—rushed and non-informative. The typhoons held me back a day in Okinawa, which turned out to be nice—I was able to relax an extra day with my girlfriend, her family, and some friends. Then two nights ago I left for Sydney by way of Taipei. I met this Norwegian chick on the plane; she was wearing a WESC hoodie in the waiting area and it was that weird thing where we ended up sitting next to each other. During the flight and train ride to the Central Station we talked and I slept a lot. She was on her way to Sydney to climb mountains and chase her boyfriend. Finding parallels in our situations, it was pretty dope to be able to witness their reunion in the rain at the train station. Like a movie—if I was a film director, I couldn’t have directed it any better.

So that was yesterday, last night I played foosball and billiards with two Belgian dudes and this guy Sam from the south of London who asked everyone to carve their names in his guitar with a knife. Explored with this Japanese dude who’s leaving for Melbourne in a bit. Today, head groggy from the Axe Attack, I took off to skate the city, and went all around the financial district, Darling Harbour, Royal Gardens… I had one of those timeless skate sessions with this teenager with earphones in his ears and fingerless gloves at a triple three stair mellow spot. We didn’t talk at all—he ripped, and we were both like yeah or dare I say jeah. For some reason I got back-180s on lock. I was thinking it’s a committal thing. Feels good to be committed to these travels. A lot of positive energy in Sydney—though there was a dude singing “Whyyy should I caarre whyyy should I caaarre?” walking around. That’s a good question. Maybe it’s pointless to care like Meursault (sic?) in Camus’ L’etranger. But as of now I care about my next meal. Later yawl.