(this is absolutely true, i am not kidding at all)

Well, here’s the deal: before I left for Costa Rica I mailed a box of 70 books to the SMF mailing house in D.C. I sent them book rate, which means they travel slow. But they shouldn’t travel this slow and I’m worried. I guess I’m just saying that the shipment is delayed and it’s giving me a lot of anxiety.

But worse than that (and I made need your help here), I left my truck with my parents. They said they would sell it for me, put the money in my account, and that’s how I would live here in Costa Rica. I also left the other two boxes of books with them.

My parents read one of the books and have now disowned me. They refuse to sell my truck for me. I have $120 and my plane doesn’t leave until April 1. I am going to die here. Which wouldn’t be too bad as this place is just the most inspiring and crazy shit EVER. But still, deep down, I don’t want to die.

I do have about $200 I’ve made from selling the books online, but no one has received their books, so it’s not wise to spend that.

There’s also this problem: what if the books I sent never make it to D.C.? The only option after that is to call my parents and ask them to mail more to D.C., which they won’t do. Actually, I am pretty sure that the rest of the books have been destroyed. My parents have always been like that. You’d think they believed in god or something but no, they’re just controlling.

Let me back up and say though, that I feel like I deserve all this. I am a horrible shit for writing about them the way I have. Usually the only people I offend are people I KNOW don’t care about me. If anyone reading this has ever felt violated by what I’ve written, that’s why. But my parents are different.

Anyway, they said that being here would teach me things and it’s already taught me a lot. The first thing being: don’t write about people anymore. It was something I wanted to do and I knew it would be a complicated tightrope, and I pulled it off most of the time by asking permission or, as I said, only writing about people with whom I shared only a feeble bond, but now it’s ALL coming back to me. So I guess I’m going to have to learn to write so that my words are as interesting as the guts I’ve spilled this year; mine and others. I hope you’re still interested.

Regardless of all that, don’t worry about the book you ordered, it will come, or your money will come, within the month. And if anyone has a life preserver to throw me, drop me a line at funkruze1@hotmail.com …I will surely need a place to stay if I ever make it back to the U.S.

I know that you might be saying to yourself now, "Well, it couldn’t be that bad if he’s still concerned with self promotion." But trust me, as wonderful as this village is, it is also scary. And I have no way or money to return home. I am terrified.

-michael welch