Pedro Ávila

A dark and hidden moon was in the sky tonight, readers. A moon that shone the way to nowhere and illuminated nothing. A selfish and greedy moon, an Artemis who kept all the light to herself. A beacon to nowhere whose usually tireless signal went ignored by the night.

For the second time in the last week, I have found my way home thanks in no small part to my soon to be flat mates, The Katies. The illustrious pair took a liking to yours truly some weeks ago and housing contracts were signed.

Foolish, if you ask me, but then again, you didn’t, and so much for that. Despite what they have learned about me and my tendencies, they have entrusted me, via contract, a collaborative arrangement to share their abode and company for at least the next few months. Mighty fine thing on their part, if you ask me. Mighty fine thing indeed.

Though despite what I say here, readers, they did, between you and me, get the better end of the deal. A drunken cab ride home on the biceps of some random dude you just met has never felt safer for The Katies and such privileges are theirs to enjoy since that’s what flat mates are for in such times. It will be their end of the bargain, however, to introduce me to countless eligible tall, blond, Dutch bachelorettes that aren’t completely useless. I trust they will fulfill their end of the deal as well as I have upheld mine.

Prior to the last couple of posts I’d been gone a long time. Remember that this was for your sake as well as mine. I understand your plight, believe me, but I was not compelled to utilize my resources just because you needed something to read.

But there was good reason for this.

There has been a lot of controversy regarding my recent departure from the place that has been my homeland for some time now. I point you in the direction of the enlightened, in the direction that describes how incidental my home in the US has been. And I tell you that leaving the US for another country wasn’t a matter of choice for me…

It was a matter of time.

And you should’ve seen this coming, so I hope that’s enough on that subject. Maybe not. We’ll see.

Still, even after such time, and even now that the leaving is done, what have I gone and done with my new found time? My fingers are numb with drink and I find it hard to focus. So much the better, I guess. The Good Doctor did say, with some sense still in his head, “Buy the ticket, take the ride.” I guess I’m doing little else other than that these days.

Peruse at your own risk, and good luck with that.

_**Amsterdam, The Netherlands — August, 2007

Skek, Centrum**_

Pedro Ávila Pedro Ávila

For a reasonably sane & productive member of society (arguable, but let’s not complicate things), I’m far too mobile and unrooted. I travel quite a bit for a job that is simultaneously my greatest privilege and my worst burden.

So I write. And I write. Travel pieces, political journalism (a stretch from ranting but, still), short stories, poetry and other such riff-raff. I contribute to a handful of publications and will probably just keep going until something gives out, or someone gives in.


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