SuperCircusGuy

It's 4pm, I've never hiked through a rain forest, the jungle, and I start my mission armed with 500ml of water, some cookies and a machete. Right away I lose the trail, it disappears into a labrinth of tangled branches, muddy roots, and dark overhead canopy. I make way until I pick up a tiny, twisted line through the bushes that tell me someone else has walked this way before. I slip. I slide. I fall, the guck reaching up to my thighs, my machete hacking uselessly at vines and fallen leaves. Then I hear the sound. Ooo-ooo. Ooo-ooo. Strange, detached, gutteral, primative. The monkeys sound out asMySpace LayoutsI approach, the wailing, the sheer volume makes the jungle come alive with unknown threats, dangerous prey, like nature laughing at the idea of a lone tourist challenging the ancient depths of the jungle. I have no light, no idea how much farther. I walk on, thoroughly chilled to the bone by the squawking shrieks, the loss of the warm sun on the path, the unknowingness of my destination. I see a clearing and make for it. As I burst through the trees, I arrive at the beach. On both sides are expansive crescents of - nothing. Darkness envelopes the crashing waves as they meet the sand. I don't know where I am but I am exactly where I need to be.