i am a disaster

Most importantly, in a followup to my last post, I think I have killed 25 mosquitoes since I've been sitting here. My hands have blood stains everywhere. It's so nice to kill something after spending weeks with Buddhist monks who consider all life to be a sentient being trapped on the wheel of life. I'm not one to kill indiscriminately but when flies keep landing on my face when I'm trying for a much needed nap, I want them to die. I imagine having control of tiny little knives that I can whip through the air to cut them in half. You might even call this a recurring fantasy. If I was more self aware, I'd proabably try to analyze why my recent fantasies involve pain for things that annoy me instead of smooching girls, finding a ring that gives me god like powers or somehow getting pulled into a fantasy novel. Instead, I'll sit here and jerk my hand back from the laptop every few minutes as it shocks the hell out of me.

So what's new here. Let me look in my little black book that I constantly open. DAMN IT. If I thought the laptop shocked me, the power cable just shocked me like a knife wound. Stupid electricity, if you didn't make porn so much easier to acquire, I'd never use you again.

We had a candle lit vigil in Chandigrah, "the Paris of India", which combines the beautiful green squares and parks of Savannah, GA and the depressing concrete Soviet shit buildings of Dresden, Germany. We walked to the main mall area and I got to see all of the things I hated in America like Lacoste stores and well dressed, more attractive people.

This was my night of accidental desctruction.I put down my candle in front of me and starting talking to one of the marchers next to me, a paratrooper from the indian army who joined because he figured he might be able to shoot chinese and the indian cops don't bother him if he wears his army fatigues. Unfortunately, the canadian in front of me moved back a little bit and his shirt started on fire. It burned a decent sized hole in his shirt before he started yelling and we put it out. My apology, although through laughter so hard I could barely talk, was absolutely heartfelt.

Then, as we sat at a bar for a farewell get together for an interesting fellow traveler, Zack the gay psyhic from Florida, I started gesticulating wildly at a no doubt fanastically engrossing story and I punched Zack right in the eye. Luckily, an emergency infusion of beer helped keep the swelling down and prevented a shiner.

Earlier in the day, four of us took rickshaws over to the Rock Garden. A fascinating place. One artist working back in this place for 30 years just creating a wonderland of rock sculptures, grottoes, building for elves, swing sets wiith giant rock horses over them and I decided I want to raise my kid in this wonderful place. It's hard to describe the genius of the place so I won't bother. We walked outside and there was a camel. So for 75 cents, I rode a camel and no, he didn't spit on me but he did almost hit me in the face with his neck when he jerked back once. I didn't realize how sinous their necks are. Fact Time! India has the world's only active camel regiment in its army.

OK. much more to say but time for bed. I'm hoping for 4 hours sleep for a 19 km walk. It's good to be young, strong and immortal.