cats

I am in a boutique hotel on the mediterranean coast in Southern Turkey in the old Walled City of Antalya. Alone in the courtyard of the hotel. Three in the morning, I cannot sleep. The only place I can get internet. The courtyard is within an old building in the old city. Narrow paved windy roads fenced in by exclusive hotels developed from old rich properties. The night revelry still lingering outside (which is why I am awake.) But I am in a quiet bubble inside this cocoon. Surrounding me are feral cats. They own the city and they are everywhere. Well-fed it seems. Sometimes meeoing, but mostly quiet and observant. We are alike in many respects. Well-fed definitely her in Turkey.
Two blazoned tanned older men in their underwear. Their stomach hanging proud come into the courtyard smoking and talking German. I leave to the cleaner air of my room and losing my internet.

Back in my room, I read residue of my opened web pages. There are new reports that show that sunscreen helps the skin look younger. I want my skin to look its age. I want my smile lines to be permanent fixture. I want to be reminded of all the happy times I have had on this earth before I die. A testament to the fact that I lived my life, risked everything and not given a damn about the consequences. That my ego need not know whether I won or lost, but that I tried my damnest. A testament that my lease on life was well used. Perhaps that is the point. Perhaps it is hiding a life not lived well that others are trying to hide. I smile more creases on my face and realize that I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I am renting a car for the first time in Turkey and I will drive to Termossos. I know I will create some good wrinkles tomorrow. I already started as I smirk falling asleep.