"I'm going down in a ring of fire, In a ring of fire"

Johnny Cash is singing this phrase over and over again in my brain; while I lay here sweating.
Guayaquil F-Ing sucks, to be polite. Over a hundred percent humidity walking requires about a liter of water and a Gatorade.
As if the climate wasn't horrible enough, it is also Cuenca's largest and most dangerous city. I went down to the water front in hopes of finding a decent coffee with an air conditioned place to write. Instead I found my self first picking beef out of my "sin carne" burrito, while being gawked by gross old dudes saying random words from movies to me; like"pretty, boot with fur , butiful.. (Vomit) next I sought wifi non other than McDonald's overlooking a moving river of brown murky water, that is both debris filled and not in the slightest sanitary.
The night got more interesting with a confused taxi driver, 2 narrow missed with a bus and leaving a skirt in Cuenca: irritation!

Add in my emotional morning farewell, endless bus trip and added travel luggage.. I've decided growing up is hard. In fact, I like aspects of the freedom of adulthood but not
The responsibility.