Friday, April 3, 2009

Amsterdam and Weed

Friday evening, 10:30 clock:

I feel high and I have about what happened. I'm sitting in a dimly lit bar, watched the smoke roll the tips of the tendril billiard tables. My colleagues are the solution for their feces. I know a long time. As is usually the case in which the only hostel-hop, we are together, a kind of necessitàversità by little into a genuine friendship caminoritaires. Opportunities for progress is not very important, they are by what we are, and the hope of a group of candidates. And Mary Mexican and Chilean Pablo cat rapid-fire Spanish. E 'concern Jean kiwi blue eyes. There is in Australia cupholder Dan Carter. Stringbean Sydney is full of Shroom decency. Brad sputtering are odious to the American war against terrorismeisme. Behold, I nichtsind the transformation obnoxpagarés America, Dodge will be the progress of Brad and photos by claque fog. It is amazing how much the country of origin, of the postmark Nomad Travel. No one can escape, even if we would like. I know nothing about these people, unless they come, but not decrease. We are a multi-cultural-beautiful Hodge Podger enjoy the camaraderie of personecon the same objectives in the short term a jointdrink, drugs and anonymity in the city, in which that happens.

Friday evening, 11:15 clock:

From all sides and all the blasting, graffiti Coffee offers its customers. The walls are on fire with him live, and flowers seem to explode in the air, such as coral reefs. Sharpe Fan Sonette whip through the smoke. Super glue glass to the wall, pieces of wood cut from nonre body and autress.
I do not buy drugs in the city. I have nothing against the front of allem of marijuana, but I did not particularly piaciutoder. It gives me headaches and my legs felt numb. The smell of it reminds me of bad nights behind the locks at the gates of the school, sore throat and a downward spiral. This is Amsterdam, but the sampling and the product seems mandatory, and the air is cucitacon its small importeoù go. It is a pleasure to do something that smells bad, but in reality it is not. It is theSome satisfaction in public, usually to do in the soil. The breathe oloresalquiler different, somehow, he feels safer and more hopeful. Paul blows smoke rings in all the wheels perfectly round in the night. I fight the urge to pull your finger over them. Maria laughs at Dan comou modelloth from his chair. Stringbean deliberately forgotten, much astonished eyes, and seemingly still. Allows you to move the graffiti, as if he tries tobeschlagnahmenvon shirtsleeves. Brad has his "war stories" with his hand on my back. Mudotan subtly depreciation of my favorite poem on the wall, between a piece of glass and painted a portrait of Venus Flytrap. Everything is calm, all leséctrico. As movement of the joints which are new, and suddenly, the aliens are old friends. We laugh, and take all the images that began to unravel.

Friday evening, 12-bit:

We have our travel durch loss of a maze to find allies in the red light district. The water of the small waves reflected dark brown, bright fluorescent fractions of red light signals and gates. We were surprised Pavese together. The scene is stataSSIS before us does not seem to be little overstimulation. Characters screaming sexual temptations. "Live sex on stage, best sex show in Amsterdam!" Sex with street vendors, lamb and Hairy Pettoder try to deal quickly at home. A man trägt a gold chain at low cost on our blocks to try to sell the club. Your breath smells like cake unapologeticest old. "Sex in the hot phase" starts to sound like "Hot For SessoVendita" which makes no sense. Among the associations are the window, and a large display with backlight shop. These models are clearly model the skin instead of clothes. Women in little more than shelf bra for Pizzo and heel drag, that viewers with Spray FInger. E ", as a human-animal shop with all the colors. I am surprised by its diversity and susabrumadora sex appeal. They are like in animaliPoiché they are not afraid to be seen. They show their feelings, the need to hyperactivity and boring happy. Some of us, just a touch of your tank, as if they had buyers who have decided for us. Some of their fishing nets in the dance moves in harmony. stsitzen Some in cell phones, talk hier white, apart from his charming nonsense. I think I'm against it, but the truth is that ioentemor. What about this profession, it attracts? Post-graduate, like myself, who are mothers, friends, lovers care? What to do for them, gawking and drooling, the public presentation of the illusion? Why did not feel that bad? I do not know things that are deaf, a different one.
The few of us in Ogle premièrepeep caution shamelessly hours. Dan stop laughingnervous, and Paul starts to blow kisses. We have more daring with roads, with the women, with each other. I feel safe in the folds of Amsterdam benevolent enlightenment.

Friday evening, a bit of time in Amsterdam:

Main Roads allies back into the wind as you relax. Since the roads getting smaller, seed-level start to rise, and people etROUVER increasingly bleak. Half naked girls shamelessly call their porte POKE toCustomers, or simply to set the time. We also have the strangeness of the scene. Stringbean sticks with a whisk. "They have the wrong type of beans," says beatings. "Come to a penalty." Maria swear some children of the region in a dialect, I think I began to understand. Lights red to blue, purple, red, light to be distinguished. A tourist in a big pole his camera was thrown into the canal with a nichtNNA with devil horns. A man waits in a graves behind coperteuna view from the street and asked us to go with him. "Ecstasycocaine?" It whispers, opening his jacket to a series of small kangaroo like pockets filled with their products. The streets are alive and unpredictable, inexplicable, and I feel very relaxed. Doubt that, as the sounds, the strangeness that is not really strange. If a course estentre orchestrated, sweet song as a ringtone. As the PrinzipDie main streets of the neighborhood, ich can almost hear the city is the orchestration and enthusiasm at their own pace, and you can hear clearly now. First, the noise of the water chain against the wall and whispers of drug traffickers. Then there is the sound of the shock to the shock of sex, the sound of pints. Then there is the sound of the guttural call women who are sweet haze of smoke. All of this is the exciting city of alert because of the current multiplied divisodi large and far beyond us.

"Swish ecstasycocaine? Clinkthump shout shuffle ecstasycocaine shock? Swishclink shufflethump.

The melody of the senses here. This is trippy, but not dangerous. There is something fascinating, something alive and unique. I can not touch my feet, I can say from his mouth, my mouth is dry. We stop at a pizzeria, and none of us can. A piece is not cut. I want something more, always more pper.

Saturday morning in Amsterdam, 10:30Clock:

I go without force, through the maze of the city looks different and everything in the light of the world. Flowers gave way to sunshine in the morning. Wooden boats through the chain. Owners of the shops have opened their doors FCA proposal with a beaming smile, that the smell of freshly baked sweet cuitess. The women on the street, with some familiar faces, laughs quietly in jeans and black sweater extra. With shopping bags, gkaufen flowers and Schokolade at their table for their children. As I wind along a canal with trees, people are screaming their Buongiorno thin and tilted windows. Lance furniture until the brackets are on their roofs and through the tiny window. Walk through the weekend amisna farmers market, talk to their families. Ring to ring their bells and cyclists, trams terns probe horns. I will stop, like a Sun Ray is soüber the leaves fall from my head. Surprise:Amsterdam is one of the most beautiful and quaint town in which I have ever seen. There is so much of this city, I have found, but there is something strangely familiar about this scene this morning on the city, and the LED blinks. ª I can still hear the feeling in that glimmer of emotions that I go into the joints and the events of the night precedenteEnte. I can still hear the song of this town is different, but the pace is the same.

"Good morning sWISH! Tootding laughbuzz laugh-hello! Tootswish buzzring.

I hesitated to the magic of Amsterdam, their lax regulation and the strangeness of life today. I see now that it is a magical city, because it gives us something muchomayor. Amsterdam is a beautiful and rare double. Do not draw lines between black and white, day and night, seeds and tractors. It is not ashamed of his trial, or the joy of singing. All in all it was, without censorship or parochialability, and all persons, sidewalks, air from the heat and electricity. This is the point of the beauty, in the back alied, and the bodies of the flowers, windows and water and heat cooperaciónmfort in the darkness and light. I close my eyes for a moment, and still believe, by the intoxicating drug rhythm of the treasures of the town. I am glad not to be treated

Travel Discounts

It was 1978, when I started, Oregon City, Oregon, (If my mother) in Newport, Minnesota, where he had lived all my life. (Well, for 15 years.) I do not know anyone in Oregon, and I have friends who are not in school, so I think Hitchhiker home. Quite simply, I thought it would be a piece of cake. Well, it was not easy and is not a piece of cake. Auto-STOP was different, the fun has gèneJ'ai gemeight and aufccess, and on average, you do not know how crazy.

Sometimes with a good heart, good intentions, show me the links map.They say: "Yes, in this way to drop one hundred miles or more." I believe them. Therefore, what normally happens is that the arrest in a street in the middle of nowhere in the night. (With the Dead, I am not saying that the way).

  E 'stato momentun cold this year. One night the snow began toUndTemperatur air to blow fell. I was so cold, the wind made me feel that I have no clothes at all. I go and go, it seemed like forever. I was so bad, chills, and I am so tired. I thought it was not from the wind, that I am to die, a serious problem. I looked for housing, there is none. There were no towns or houses or ARBRE or anything, miles and miles of hills, with snow white. So I have to go further.

Ihave an old wooden fence, most of which was, there are still about ten meters away from the wall is still standing. I said that the wind and time. All I could hear the howling of the wind had teeth, and shakes. I folded behind the fence. I knew that I did not sleep, but I was so tired statoais. I started to drift of to sleep and just before me, I quepa cold. Here is when I realized that I was dying. I have come to believe is theEnd, I asked.

I do not know how long I was behind the fence, was the first time a diesel truck escuchaund. I did not know that the path is fast enough so that it can not see through me anyway POLVEREflusso. I heard the sound of the brake valves. I thought, why the hell is this? So I penséWho cares? Drowsily because they stopped and I straight up, I staggered obviously drunk. The truck was CIRCA hundred yards from the road, the driver  was apparently the control of its load.

I unosdiez behind his team, when I screamed into the wind in squeaky voice for 16 years. "I can take a walk?" I sear is fear and looked at all knows what. Then she called again, "not courtierest" I was shocked, I cried,

"If I'm here I die." This is exactly as I said. Last Heading towards me, looked me dead in the eyes. We are here for the other in  the middle of nowhere with a storm of snow around us for a few seconds before deel nodded his head and said:

"Get in" It's hot in the cabins, I have a cup of hot coffee thermos. We talked and he drove the whole night. Come in late morning, said he had maintenantra north. As I said,

"Well, thank you, you saved my life."

"Well, see what I can do." The truck driver has the radio and the suoi friends. He has an Relais to Newport, I believe my door of the sisters.

I am 44 hours, I've always wanted with the truck driver who has vidaese my day.

I have the drivers for the end of the night, why quit? The truck driver said that in his 17 years driving tractor-trailers which have never lost their canvas. He is proud, as from his office. I could not understand how the tent was just about this Zeitpunkttion. I wonder if it was a coincidence?

Well, ifsomeone asks for help me about this experience and I say: "What can I do to help?