I’d like to believe that travel makes me a better man. It opens me up to new ideas, new cultures, new foods. It doesn’t judge me, yet, I may at times judge it. I may get exhausted or livid while traveling. At the end of the day, travel is still here for me.
For better or worse.
Often I consider myself to be very articulate but recently I have not wanted to write. I felt out of place writing about things that I see, a fraud if you will. Somewhere in Spain I started to feel myself again. Not what society, friends, or even family perceived me as. I am still learning, growing, and at times, failing. But as long as you fail forward life will be ok.
So fail, fail forward. Fail a lot. Learn what makes and breaks you as a person. Learn what you love and what scares you. And face it all down each day.
As for me?
Maybe I’ll find a nice Spanish woman, settle down, have a few hell raisers. Develop a healthy addiction for cured ham, cheeses, and alcohol. And die young.
That it, that’s how I want to go.
While under the influence of jamón and sangrias.