I was not ready to come home. Every move that lead to the airport was done very bitterly. And now I'm here, and do not know what to do with myself. This is the first time I feel nothing towards this city. As if I have nothing here. And what did I have in Cuba? A beach, a pool, rum, 10 pack of cigarettes, rum, rum, rum, Junier who poured my rum, and all the perverted Cubans who fed my obese ego. I lost myself in a hollow life, and I want to do so again. So, so, so badly.