The futility of guilt


A Mexican lady showing me her jewellery in Mazunte.

Whilst perching uncomfortably at a bar in Mazunte, awaiting for the band to start, and resting uncomfortable in the fact that I knew nobody, I decided to jot down some ideas for possible things I could write about. In the back of my little black leather notebook is written the following, as an adage to my first far more metaphysical and rather intellectually taxing list:

  • Guilt, and the futility of – Mexican maids, street kids, beach vendors, etc.
  • The ubiquity of Hip-Hop.
  • Conundrums of travelling alone – burnt back, hanging out in bars such as this one.
  • Hypocrisy in the 21st century hippie culture – dreadlocked man and our chat post his slow, inarticulate description of water massage therapy.

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