Live corpse serving dead cow

(Toilet use. 150 HUF, about 70 cents. This is the going rate to piss or shit in Budapest.)

What in God’s name am I doing in a country that charges one money to take a piss, even in a train station? I love Hungary, but there are some things about it that I really, really hate. This morning I almost got hit by a fucking bicycle rider. It was the narrowest miss yet.They ride on the sidewalk in this country. They don’t ride slowly and carefully.They race down the sidewalk in a blur of metal and rubber and helmet and sweat.The universe is just itching for the opportunity to break my bones, tear my flesh, and cause me to use my life savings to pay the hospital bill. The universe has my number. It’s just a question of whether the universe has enough time to execute its plan to crash 250 pounds of bicycle and person into me before I leave Hungary.

What in God’s name am doing back here? There’s nothing here for me but haunting memories of crushed dreams, subversion, and humiliation. I just had to go back to the scene of the crime. Why couldn’t I just leave it alone? This is where my future ended. I died here last year. The corpse that was I could talk and eat and breathe, but it was quite dead and still is.

I want to stop hemorrhaging money and depressing myself. I want to return to the heaping mound of shit that is the United States. I have a promising future at McDonald’s waiting for me.