Santa Cruz, Costa Rica -- night

I remember that one of my purposes in making this trip was to embrace my solitude. Tonight has been a night of feeling that emotion, that sensation, to an extreme.

I sit here lying on my left side, propped up on my left elbow, while writing these words. I am alone in a room of three beds, as if to remind me of the lack of loved ones, friends, or even companions. The only sound outdoors are crickets, and the infrequent car. At least the crickets have something to say out loud, and each other to listen. The floor, as well as the walls, of my room are simply slats of wood; and the high roof is a network of wooden beams, topped with a large piece of corrugated metal.

At the moment, the roof is doing its job as I hear a slight tinkle of rain spattering against the metal. Although the rain adds to the feeling of isolation, I am happy because it very importantly breaks up the oppressive heat and heavy atmosphere. An electric fan blows into my spiked, dishevelled hair. And a single light bulb high above helps to provide me with sight.

Lying on the desk next to the fan are my wallet, the room key, a pile of change, and - closest within reach of the bed - my automatic knife. I had used the knife earlier this evening to cut a cantaloupe which I had bought for 200 colones (I should have bargained down).

And now, I will permit myself a bit of sentimentalism. I wonder if I will find love, or perhaps more appropriately, I wonder if love will find me. Or am I destined to be alone until my last breath? destined to a life of solitude on this earth, whether it be a lonely corner in the Northeastern United States or chasing the horizon throughout the world? I cannot help but sigh just thinking about it. I often tell myself to just live, and all will come in its time. But I don't know if that is wisdom or ignorance. Sometimes I think that that line of advice is too simplistic; however, that may prove to be its beauty. Who knows? Perhaps ignorance really is bliss.

Because when I begin to comtemplate this topic, I usually end up feeling so frustrated, or else on occasion I feel like crying. But this latter comes less and less; I believe it is a reflection of my loss of expectations. At least hope still springs eternal; but who knows how long that will last. I guess I will just have to see. In fact, I don't have much choice. Life goes on. Time continues ceaselessly. The sun will rise tomorrow. And therefore, so shall I!!!