From Patagonia

Looking southly, the first of january 2007, seven in the morning.



-

Cerro Chaltén, the smoking mountain. My favorite mountain from now on.



-

Cerro Chaltén, with terribly small human being.



-

Cerro Paine Grande & the Torres del Paine.



-

Faro del fin del mundo, the lighthouse at the end of the world.




Now do you see? I do not want to be one of you, anymore. Someday i will be the one to run off of a cliff, and flyy. We are only trapped by the sky, and that is all.

-

I have returned from Patagonia, even though maybe i should have not. I have decided that someday i will look best in a beard, when i have become enough of a man to fill one out. I have slept many nights in the wilderness, beneath a completely different bevy of stars, i have seen the Southern Cross. We stared at each other and said nothing for a long time, and then left. We are both too old now, and we are strangers.

I became a tally of three decades. I wished for a warm tent through the night.

Grandiose wishes are for twenty-nine-year-olds.