The Book of Crispy

Still kiwi 8:05AM

I'm a Kiwi in London, reading about an English woman in New Zealand. I ate dinner at a Moroccan restaurant and was served by a French girl. When I go to the U.S. i'm an Englishman in New York. When I go to China i'm an American. But I'm still a kiwi. So that's what it will be. My tattoo will be about New Zealand.

I've been getting homesick recently. It's the warm weather. It's 9pm and 29 degrees. I am recalling warm summer holidays in Nelson, Coromandel, Bay of Islands. I walk around the streets of shit piss and vomit. That's why I can't take my shoes off. Even the clouds above the restaurant tug at my roots, the clouds look like the x-rayed hand of a ringwraith. It's not that I'm ready to leave London, but that I'm ready to visit New Zealand again.

I am good at passively influencing people. Now Amanda is getting homesick, after it seems she had forgotten Australia. I drop words that remind her of home. It's the same quality that encourages people to recycle, eat healthy, stop stressing and start caring. My silent gift to the world.

But I have goals to satisfy. Today I spent five hours at the U.S. Embassy and I believe I have successfully fulfilled the requirements for a work visa. I await the couriers to return my newly-stamped passport. And then? Maybe New York.