With my departure date set at exactly three weeks away, I’m starting to get excited about traveling the world. I’m going to go as long and as far as my money will last me, taking in the sights, meeting freaks, having lots of sex, you know, things you do when you’re young with a backpack as a house. If I can make it work I’ll visit fourteen countries, unless I fall in love or find a job in a city that’s perfect.
This kind of journey works like classical music in opening the creative channels of my brain, allowing my worrying cortex to focus on the basics, such as how to eat, sleep and move in the same way the Bach distracts my left brain from thinking about what to say as it counts the notes without my consciously realizing it. I’ll open up my computer, which I will decorate with stickers to dissuade thieves, and be able to edit my book like an outsider.
Yes, I think I’ll go to India. You have to go to India! Then I’ll head east, and wind my way to Chiang Mai, where I will try to get a job teaching, writing stories…
Daniel the Writer 