Re-conquering my kingdom?

Forgive the misplaced z's and y's. I typed fractions of this on a German keyboard while I had a second in Freiburg before traveling to the Black Forest.

The little child who just begun to order its own food at a resaurant. He does not yet know the system and its workings. Unsure of how, he is the outsider in a common world to most, looking in from the window akwardly like a tiny peeping-tom in trainning. He must continue to look in from the window till he can praticipate correctly in this new novel place. I am the tiny child. Participating in a world i am not yet sure of. So I didn't know that Germans dont get things "to go". SO what! Everyone in the restaurant doesnt have to look at me like I just threw saurekraut on the ground and stomped on it. I just wanted the huge schnitzel not to go to waste! They're the outsiders.

 I have never known the feeling of being the "outsider". Not in the normal, I dont have any friends at this party so im going to drink beer in this corner akwardly, sense of the word. But TRUE, outsidernessness. Not even a pastachio in a bag of peanuts, or quail egg in a carton of chicken eggs. I'm talking straight up pidgeon suckling at the tit of a momma orangatang, and all the other baby orangatangs are scowling at the pidgeon because that shit is wierd... Asking for a to go box isnt that wierd..... It is fairlz impossible to find a cheap meal here, even in the towns that arnt based soulz off of tourism. And i am now truely realizing the purpose of our free-market system. To give me, the hungery consumer, a tastey fucking treat for cheap. I just want a tastey treat in europe without feeling like i could have just bought a comfz bed for that price. Ive been taking nutella packets from breakfast buffets to satissfy this craving. Lemme tell zou what, nutella fingers are hella tastez. And the packets are more or less, completely free. I have coined this ingenious hitchhiker delicacy, "Nutella fingers".

When in doubt. Just say, "Germany is awesome!" This will get you far if placed at just the right time. I had to leave a sauna, filled with indigenous old naked Germans trained in the art of basking in hellish temperatures, because this lady who worked at the sauna was doing this insane ritual - which is far to complex to type out on this tiny phone - this ritual made a 90 degree Celsius sauna even hotter. While I tried to endure, and be one with the locals, it was far to much. So I waited till round 3 was over, and politely walked out, trying not to step on any bare body's. the locals seemed confused, so I just said the 3 simple words with a kind of sick clever desperation in my voice , which aroused some type of laughter, "Germany is awesome".

I've gotten lost on purpose, which has proved worthy of a word invented to describe its benefit. And I've gotten lost on accident  which was also liberating my beautiful. Wandering till you get taken somewhere you want to be has been a popular method in my traveling compadre and I's toolbox.

"We Havnt located ourselves yet?"
"Is that a sign?!"
"Get the shaman feathers and meet me ontop of that mountain!"
"The beacon shall be lit!!"

Traveling like this is seldom certain, and often epic. Some part of me set off on this wild adventure in search of becoming the king in my kingdom - and have found everything but that thus far. I fear the time limit on my journey has put a wall around my potential. Nevertheless, flying by the seat of my pants has channeled the great cosmos into my world! With every decision I make there is an incalculable ammount of magical opportunities that await! So far, there have been such ridiculous encounters and experiences that could not be just by luck. The gargantuan multitude of happenstances that had to culminate ontop one another to create the things we have enjoyed... Well. I don't know how to describe it other than using the word magic.

Tomorrow nick and I venture through the country side of Sienna Italy, to various vineyards which we supposedly can taste their wine (seat of our pants) and after that we will train down to some unknown village 2 hours south of here (seat of our pants) and take a ferry (seat of our pants) to a town in Corsica called Porto Vecchio. Then we will hike across the island, traveling through tiny villages and camping in the mountainous southern region of the Mediterranean paradise (seat of our pants).

I'm tired of typing on this phone.

I can't stop thinking about climbing.
Riley. Brace yourself dood. And rack up.

-Jackson