Home, ill, bleurgh!

So, I'm home in bed again. Was at work yesterday, got a weird splitting headache, so I'm back in bed.
Doctor ordered me to take antibiotics last Thursday, so now I'm taking those and painkillers. Yeehaw, pills are good!

I've finished typing up my first diary.( It's 10 December 2000 and I'm back in Santiago, having spent almost a week in Argentina. )

Hmm.. I wonder where my second book is? Maybe somewhere in my parents house (eeek!!). But I think that one is not as detailed as I got tired of writing daily. So if the first book included 2 months, the second includes the rest, until I think I stopped writing at some point in Indonesia...

My biggest thoughts after reading this first book are: "I wish I was somewhere warm" and "I wonder what happened to all those people" (yes, cliché I know, but it's true, so many lives that met, if even ever so briefly...)

I'll sit in bed today thinking about this. (it's -14 celsius outside so no wish to go out there either).

edit:

Something I found that was my guideline for my travel:

"I have to hurry
have to leave
fly far
travel into different smells
I have to go
brake my chains
rip out my roots
let my heart burn
and point blindly at the globe

I have to cough
some highway dust
have to sail
a few more storms
I have to go
out looking for my soul

I have to walk streets
were no one knows my name
my face a mystery, not a label
go places
were dreams are different

I have to fly
hang out my heart to dry
in the warm breezes of lands
i could never imagine
And then maybe
I'll return
as myself "

Thank you "Jess" for writing it. It may be a bit outdated, but still has something universally valid.