I'm in Muscat, Oman. I got deposited here last night after taking a six-hour taxi ride with two Pakistanis, a Filipino and an Omani. It was pretty fun. We sorta bonded. Well, except for the Omani
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He's never coming back and I'm fairly certain I'll never speak with him again.
Our friendship is dead. It's not so bad, I guess. It's like a cancer death, not a car wreck death. Part of me has expected it for a long time. I'm just going to bury the remains and have extra fuel to reach escape velocity with.
I talked to my grandfather - the embodiment of the word "quixotic", replete with an amusing, jovial-sounding Arabic accent - about going to live in Lebanon
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