To write

Angelica – a Mexican girl I met in San Rafael, Mendoza, Argentina – told me I have great pictures on my blog, but no writing.

This is true. It’s been a very long time since I last wrote something here. Not that there are no thoughts. I write everyday in my head, in my journal, on my computer, in my notepad. I scribble on everything I can. I start on pieces, leave them and come back to them, but I never seem to finish them. Is it the road or the result that matters?

I feel like my pieces are never perfect enough to publish and I always want them to be.

I’ve started on a post on travelling. On what it’s like sitting in a strip club on Bangkok with petite Thai girls lined up on the stage with round number plates on their hips. I’ve started on another piece on Eva, a half French, half Tunisian girl I met at an estancia outside of El Calafate in February this year. She studied tango in Buenos Aires and inspired me with her independence.

I have another one in my head on what it’s like making pizza with people you have met only twice, discussing things I’ve never even shared with long-time friends.

Plenty of stories I promise, one will get published this week.

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