all we need.

as crass as this is to say,

picture my setting right now.

what does that look like, to you?

here’s why I said that:

not a week goes by that someone emails me and says

‘be honest, what do you really do?’

as if I secretly have a trust fund,

and simply like creating the occasional mini-drama.

can I be honest?

I’m sitting in a hotel room.

just ate a fantastic chicken sandwich that I hope was cheap,

so I can order it again tomorrow.

I also hope it’s warmer tomorrow,

so I can go back to my little alley.

there’s a few people who are interested in my new travel-charity project,

big people.

in big businesses,

big businesses which can’t just say ‘go for it!’ and turn me loose.

and so I wait.

I wait here in Cairo,

having faith that what will be will be.

cautiously tallying the $290 I have left.

no credit cards,

no rich parents,

no savings.

$290.

I sold my photos, and you bought them

it got me to Egypt and that was the plan.

and I’m here.

crisis averted, as it always is.

but still.

it’s just enough to fly to Ethiopia,

but not enough to eat once I’m there.

‘do you have any missionary friends in Addis Ababa?’ in an email to my Dad.

33 and asking for help from his parents.

‘teach English in Cairo’ I entered in the box,

realizing I have no dress clothes anyway.

so, sure – the photos come up and some people click the ‘like’ button,

and I can tell a decent story thanks to having a bloodline of storytellers and carnies.

but please don’t find this glamorous.

nor think me brave.

or imagine me exploring the hidden walkways of this old town,

’cause it was cold outside today.

I picked out the crap parts of the tour and obsessed about them,

as that’s $20 I could have used elsewhere.

so here I sit, and here I write,

’cause I wouldn’t burden anyone with this in a normal conversation.

but know that once you take away the pictures,

and these little entries,

what you have is a grown boy.

who’s sitting in this little cheap hotel room,

scared.

and how glamorous is that?

walking around obsessing and worrying,

holding onto whatever cliche enters my head.

‘it always works out!’

‘you’ll end up exactly where you’re supposed to be’

‘look at the big picture.’

and so on.

so sure, on the cab ride home, I told myself that if things fall through,

I’m going to do it anyway.

you read that line and maybe you thought ‘atta boy!’

but please don’t.

it was said in my head a lot softer than this type resonates.

scared, scared boy.

and this is what it’s all about, I suppose.

in a week’s time I’ll have forgotten this and wonder if I should delete this childish admittance.

but for now, right now…

you get the picture.