Gent is a beautiful city. I wander the city following the meandering course of the unplanned roads. Architecture stacked upon history stacked upon my projections. I keep walking. At night I sip loose beers and hunt for cheap fries. I am still invisible. I pass unnoticed. They can smell the California on me. The uneven cobblestones hurt my feet. I slowly walk over the stones in attempt not to crack my head open in a tumble. I know that I cannot sustain anymore blunt head trauma.The ladies of Gent hurry by me as I creep along, floating on their terribly fashionable high-healed shoes. Upon returning to my room and removing my shoes I feel as if I have been on a boat all day. Legs are unsteady, ready to adjust to an unbalanced surface that doesn't exist. I am beginning to relax.
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