AUTHOR MUSUS ON A RAINY DAY
I am sitting before a blank screen on a rainy Tuesday evening. It is ten. I live by myself, but my mind is full of people, the majority of whom have exiled me to the periphery of their existences. I am 67 and I have never been more confused in my life. I have finished my book Buried in Brownsville and it should be available on Amazon next week. It is available at billmchale,blogspot.com. This book is my fifteenth literary child.
I have tried to resolve personal issues in my life, but my efforts to make things better have only resulted in making things worse. My most immediate resolution to my challenges is a departure. I have an obstacle that affects my itinerary. I have had my money in a credit union since I first came to Brownsville in 1975, but the debit card is only good in the country. I am therefore transferring my account to another bank, so I can have a debit card good throughout the world. I am changing my direct deposit from the old to the new, but this process can take as long as two months.
I have decided that during this period I'm going to risk Mexico. I have the money available in both my old and new accounts to travel for two months if necessary. I will check out flights, but I may decide to take the bus to Mexico City. I could remain in the capital for the entire time or I could follow the road south through Cuernavaca, Taxco, Oaxaca and San Cristobal de las Casas. I don't know, but I need to clear my head if possible. Mental problems, obstinately, know no time nor place. I am running away from them to determine if they will continue to pursue me or not. There is no hope here. Perhaps, there is hope out there.
Upon my return, my financial situation should be resolved. Then I am embarking on a trip from which I may never return except for visits or emergencies. I am debating between Portugal and Uruguay/Argentina. Portugal is heaven on earth and I work on my Portuguese every day. Unfortunately, a foreigner can only get a three-month visa. At its expiration, a tourist must leave and can't return for three months. For someone like myself who is thinking long-term residency and teaching English, this is a serious inconvenience.
The Uruguay/Argentina option doesn't pose this problem. Both countries approve six-month visas and the visitor only has to leave these countries for one day to have them renewed. I know that Montevideo and Buenos Aires are hot spots and both nations are fascinating in general. Montevideo holds an edge for me over Buenos Aires because it is less cosmopolitan and more relaxed. The meat and wine are just as good as Buenos Aires and marijuana is legal.
I have do something. The mental turmoil is relentless. Karma can kill you for all the sins you have committed, but with money in my pocket and a healthy body, I'm not prepared to call it quits. I will embody the spirit of Anthony Bourdain and sallying forth on my own to places unknown. I have been in Brownsville 43 years. The women I bed were once the lovers of past acquaintances and these old friends express the same complaint about my past lovers. Brownsville has become a huge casa segunda filled with used and discarded humanity.
I will still write. I have a substantial idea for a sixteenth book which will be a novel told completely in the first person. I will imitate the example of my ally /DP-M, but instead of writing about Brownsville from McAllen, I will pontificate from more exotic locales.
I am not well mentally. I am laced with ugly scars and bleeding wounds. I don't expect or ask for sympathy. This is the result of having lived life ruled by a lust for food, drink and sex. I wish it could have been different, but certain things weren't meant to be. You won't encounter me at HEB in the future raving about raising grandchildren. I am too much of a bohemian for baby-sitting duties. Out of the eight children in my family, God chose me to be the black sheep.
I have tried to resolve personal issues in my life, but my efforts to make things better have only resulted in making things worse. My most immediate resolution to my challenges is a departure. I have an obstacle that affects my itinerary. I have had my money in a credit union since I first came to Brownsville in 1975, but the debit card is only good in the country. I am therefore transferring my account to another bank, so I can have a debit card good throughout the world. I am changing my direct deposit from the old to the new, but this process can take as long as two months.
I have decided that during this period I'm going to risk Mexico. I have the money available in both my old and new accounts to travel for two months if necessary. I will check out flights, but I may decide to take the bus to Mexico City. I could remain in the capital for the entire time or I could follow the road south through Cuernavaca, Taxco, Oaxaca and San Cristobal de las Casas. I don't know, but I need to clear my head if possible. Mental problems, obstinately, know no time nor place. I am running away from them to determine if they will continue to pursue me or not. There is no hope here. Perhaps, there is hope out there.
Upon my return, my financial situation should be resolved. Then I am embarking on a trip from which I may never return except for visits or emergencies. I am debating between Portugal and Uruguay/Argentina. Portugal is heaven on earth and I work on my Portuguese every day. Unfortunately, a foreigner can only get a three-month visa. At its expiration, a tourist must leave and can't return for three months. For someone like myself who is thinking long-term residency and teaching English, this is a serious inconvenience.
The Uruguay/Argentina option doesn't pose this problem. Both countries approve six-month visas and the visitor only has to leave these countries for one day to have them renewed. I know that Montevideo and Buenos Aires are hot spots and both nations are fascinating in general. Montevideo holds an edge for me over Buenos Aires because it is less cosmopolitan and more relaxed. The meat and wine are just as good as Buenos Aires and marijuana is legal.
I have do something. The mental turmoil is relentless. Karma can kill you for all the sins you have committed, but with money in my pocket and a healthy body, I'm not prepared to call it quits. I will embody the spirit of Anthony Bourdain and sallying forth on my own to places unknown. I have been in Brownsville 43 years. The women I bed were once the lovers of past acquaintances and these old friends express the same complaint about my past lovers. Brownsville has become a huge casa segunda filled with used and discarded humanity.
I will still write. I have a substantial idea for a sixteenth book which will be a novel told completely in the first person. I will imitate the example of my ally /DP-M, but instead of writing about Brownsville from McAllen, I will pontificate from more exotic locales.
I am not well mentally. I am laced with ugly scars and bleeding wounds. I don't expect or ask for sympathy. This is the result of having lived life ruled by a lust for food, drink and sex. I wish it could have been different, but certain things weren't meant to be. You won't encounter me at HEB in the future raving about raising grandchildren. I am too much of a bohemian for baby-sitting duties. Out of the eight children in my family, God chose me to be the black sheep.
I must go.
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