Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else

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Summary of my breakdown

It all started with a trip on a whim. "Boss, I'm leaving to Europe," I announced nearly three weeks ago. "When? Why?" "Tomorrow, just because it has to be done." And off I was.

Now, a summary!!

1/ My plane was 6 hours late because of some technical problems. And I didn't fly Airbus! I missed my connecting flight by a day.
2/ I went to my country first. Some business to take care off there. My supervisors supervised me well. Gave me a curfew. Gave me hour by hour scheduled days. Bathroom breaks were included. When and what I ate was also decided. What I said was written prior to my saying it. Written and edited and approved and sealed with a seal of approval. What I wore was approved but mostly disapproved and then corrected. I crossed the street only if I was allowed to. Every minute was accounted for. Ironically, they worked for me, while in fact I was their slave.
3/ Christmas came around, so I stopped by Berlin. Visited Sebastian's grave. That's when everything went down the hill as I experienced a mental/emotional breakdown…
4/ and that's how I found myself in Barcelona.
5/ I met a random man on the plane, and completely distraught, I accepted the offer of staying at his place. He played the piano for me. He showed me his diplomas. When he went to sleep, I looked through his books and noticed his CV. I strongly believe he was some sort of an agent, secret agent. He knew more languages than me (8 vs 4).
6/ Bored of the man, I found a hostel. I saw Gaudi's work, wondered how La Rambla got popular, saw Dali's place in Figueres. Fell in love with Park Guell and all eccentrics.
7/ My best friend afraid for my life, came to Barcelona to save me.
8/ Someone stole all my socks and underwear.
9/ I was chased down the Barcelonian beach for more than mile. I ran an additional mile, because although the freaks got tired, I suddenly had the urge to pee.
10/ I had the VIP reservation at the third hottest nightclub in the world. I dined and discoed. I met a 20 year old Italian whose butt I enjoyed. We kissed until dawn.
11/ The morning after new years, I threw myself down next to some random men enjoying the waves.
12/ Hours later, I was on the train with the Italian. We drove in some BMW to some isolated village. We stopped by some mansion. I got confused, and then his parents greeted me happily. They were happy to meet me. I noticed their Porsche and Armani suit collection, and freaked out that I might have embarked on some Italian mafia mansion, left the following morning after I slept in the most comfortable bed ever.
13/ Met up with my friend in Madrid. There was nothing to see in Madrid.
14/ We met some Americans who said there was nothing to do or see in Madrid. Run away, they said, run away. That's what they were doing… well, after they hand fed me croissants and things.
15/ In two hours we saw all we could see in Madrid.
16/ In this place, public defecation was a common problem. What you thought was mud, was actually something someone ate before and processed thereafter. Once, we have noticed a perfect fecal cylinder with two inch diameter. This perfection should have been classified… a species of its own.
17/ We met a Russian, a Chilean, Italians, an Argentine, a German, Americans, and Brazilians.
18/ Bored of Madrid, we left for Toledo. We came back at the end of the day to have a goodbye party.
19/ one of the Americans got drunk and depressed because the other American had more chance with me, and the OTHER American was upset because the Italian had me. The Italian was upset that I was lying to him about me being 25 while in fact being 17 (he was 18). His two Italian friends were upset that he had me. The truth was, he had me as much as anybody, I cared not for any of them. The main Italian resembled the Italian from New Years. I asked for Chocolate and Sangria, and he delivered. We talked money and our goals, and the fact I am not 25. All others were jealous for one or the other reason. Then the Italian told me his name. My jaw dropped. He confirmed. I then sobered up and recognized. I kissed him on the cheek and said I am pretty sure we will keep in touch (more on his end than mine). I walked away. I wanted no part of this. It was 5 am by that time.
20/ My best friend told me in drunken speech she was bi and begged for forgiveness and acceptance. Like I was some homophobic freak… I accept all people as they come. I judge them later based on their actions and not their sexual preferences.
21/ I saw Seth Rogen who claimed he was someone else. Some pothead from PA.
22/ The Italian from Madrid, kept in touch and said I shouldn't lie about my age. He brought me more chocolate and kisses goodbye.
23/ I left back to Barcelona, got in trouble with the police, and met a happy Mexican, who twice missed his plane, had a bus leave him at a stop, had his stuff stolen, but "everything is okay!"
24/ Back in my country, I was back to the scheduled meals and bathroom breaks, and lots of paperwork. I checked my emails and the Italian from Madrid did keep in touch. So did his friends. And the Americans, and the Brazilians, and the Chilean. Stan wrote me an email where he said he loves me and doesn't want me to die (or do something that will get me killed) in Europe. He said I should come back, I should be done with my emotional break down… and come back.
25/ By that time I had a fever and Europe was covered by inches of snow, and my plane never left to the States.

7:26 p.m. - January 16, 2010

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