I remembered what someone said once about traveling, that sometimes the body moves somewhere too quickly for the soul and the soul is taking its sweet-ass time to catch up because the soul is not on speaking terms with the body but regardless, the body is a lonely animal without the soul, so I thought, maybe it is time for me to sit very still and wait for the soul and I understood how melodramatic that was but I decided not to care because, after all, someone else had said it first and even though I couldn’t remember exactly who it seemed that they were very old or European or both—someone somehow trustworthy. I walked to a hostel and tried to pay for a room with a card and the girl behind the counter seemed embarrassed when it wouldn’t go through a third time—Oh, it’s probably my fault—so I paid for a night with one of the traveler’s checks I’d brought to give me a false sense of having my shit together. I only had a few hundred dollars in checks because a false sense of having my shit together only cost a few hundred dollars.
