choluteca NICARAGUA

ive been holed up in a honduran shithole town called choluteca for 3 days sick as a dog, smak dab in the middle of the lower southern part of the country between nicaragua, and el salvador. I was making a dash for nicaragua when I got so ill I couldnt move ten feet from the bowl. I was making a dash for nicaragua and the country just past it costa rica, a professional civilized oasis in a strand of connective tissue that is so corrupt it gives a prude man vertigo . guides with thier hands in your pokets, cops with thier tongues out, laws that laugh at you behind your back and roads where big mac signs got nothing to do with hamburgers but stand for a head honcho vaquero ex revolutionary giant, determined to still show the townsfolk he dont take shit. I havent had a coherent thought let alone word to write in weaks. Ive just been travelling afraid and alone, from one faceless danger to the next, stopping off in sanctioned stopovers where I felt safe, and then not wanting to leave when it was time. The roads in el salvador where structurally better than any other central american country Ive been in, the pan american splits in two and serves the countries quadrants like a cracked veign. I’m sitting hunchbacked in the choluteca motor in, the best place in town. a concrete adobe courtyard single story bungalow encampment around a coveted pool, with armed guards. everyone here has a sawed off shotgun with no stock strapped to thier backs, and surprisingly I feel safe here, on the 100 count sateen sheets, the mahogany stained headboard, the dark drapes hidding all light, the color tv, and the clean tile floor. I like cold dark places when Im sick, and this place is cold and dark. maybe if I cant see them they cant see me, maybe I needed a rest, maybe I miss nyc. Im gonna dash for leon, today nicaraguas southern colonial town on the pacific, and try to make it to costa rica this week.