Solo Travel: The Glamorous Shittalogue They Don't Talk About

So, ya know how they always gloss over a lot of shit in those beautiful, Insta-worthy travel photos of lively solo adventurers? Yeah, well, let me tell you, it’s all a big, fat fucking lie. Ever taken a shit in the jungle? No? Well, I have and let me tell you, it’s not as glorious as you might think and it sure as hell isn’t an episode out of Man vs Wild. The view was goddamn spectacular, I’ll give you that. But then you know what's not fucking spectacular? Being halfway through your own personal ordeal, sweat pouring down your face, legs already shaking from adopting the most unnatural squat when a horde of godforsaken jungle mosquitoes decide to launch their attack. There I am, pants around my ankles, swatting at these little demons while trying not to fall head-first into the very product of my morning full of strange street food. Did I mention I was supposed to meet a cute fellow solo traveler later? Yeah, right after I had to waddle back to my forest hut looking like I'd just been part of a botched, illegal bum implant procedure. Let's just say the date didn't go any fucking better. So, here I am sitting on my lonely hostel bed, picking dried leaves out of my underwear, confessing my shit-show of a day on the internet cause apparently, my life is that transpicuous. ---