Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Land of Fishes

I just landed in Lima. It's hot at not, humid, the South American humid that makes everything so vivid and real.  


It pops out at you, the humidity, shimming air all the time. 

The airport, I think, smells like fish, but it's not just the airport. Everywhere smells like fish. 

We drive along the cost for what felt like forever. I begin to get a sense of the random up and down of the place, feeling the Andes nearby. 

It was raining when I went to sleep last night. My body is confused by weather, summer and wet and humid and thunder and lightning. It's all becoming a blur. 


Viewing the world as a constant intersection of shifting humid blurs. This is what happens to your brain with so much travel. 


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