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real aching guts

I’m feeling really sick to my stomach. Don’t know what’s wrong with me. It hurt so much I had to stop what I was doing and lay down for a bit and now I’m here. Feel’s like something’s churning up inside me and my head’s trying to mirror the motions. I hope I don’t have a virus or something.

Before all this, I was spending the night trying to organize my things. I just got home. Home-home. I’ve been unpacking my travel bags and I’ve just started pulling out the trinkets I’ve collected that remind me of special moments on the trip. Oddly, I brought home a lot of masks. It’s been tough trying to make space between the other knick-knacks I already have. There are a lot. Maybe too many because I’m a sentimental fool. But I love my miscellany and I can’t imagine ever letting it go. While putting my memories on the shelf and until now, I had something ringing clear in my head. I had just received an e-mail about my uncle in Malaysia who had just fallen off the stairs, broke his head and died. I don’t know how to respond to it and I don’t know how I’m feeling about it. We weren’t close but our interaction with each other was quite recent and it really shakes me up how real death is. He had sent me off at the airport when I was there last month. It was just me and him. I was running late so I had rushed out of the car when we arrived but he parked his car and found me afterwards. We had typical surface-level conversation while we walked around. Again, we weren’t close but I had lived and spent a lot of time with him everytime I was in Malaysia for the past three years. When I spotted a bookstore, I told him there was something I wanted to pick up. He started to follow me towards it and feeling guilty, I told him that he didn’t have to wait for me and I’d be fine on my own. He quickly took me on that offer and we exchanged quick goodbyes. It was casual. Even at the moment I thought it was too casual but I assured myself I’d see him soon. We always assume we’ll see people again. I thought Marshall was going to live forever. Getting that e-mail really just puts things in perspective. Like dying fruits in that Bacchus painting. Momento Mori, am I right? I don’t want to squander my time; I want to spend more of it with the people I love. But here I am, useless, in pain and unable to move. What kind of sick joke is this…

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thoughts on Pakse

Pakse was really unimpressionable. There wasn’t really much to do or see in a city but of course, I always appreciate absorbing all the unique cultural nuances. One really cool experience was walking through a market called Don Mueang. There were women carrying live chickens on sticks, vendors selling dried lizards, a freak show featuring an 8ft tall Laotian man. Lots of bizarre things to see. There were a lot of interesting street foods as well but of course, I was too afraid to have any. My stomach is still not handling food very well here. Tried taking some Imodium but it ended up making me feel extremely tired and extremely dizzy. Bleh.

In the city there were a lot of sad limping stray dogs, Westerners eating french fries, and as usual, locals staring. Not sure if it’s for the lot of us but I’m thinking it was me especially. I can see a lot of people pointing me out to their peers and many eyes scanning over midriff. Midriff which is exposed, of course. Whoops. The men were particular bad, some of whom kept trying to talk to and take pictures me. Met a Swedish guy who told me he had the same experience with strangers asking to take pictures of him or with him. I wonder what they do with all these pictures. Do they just collect pictures of foreigners? Send them to friends and family? Bizarre.

I’m in Chiang Mai now, a much more modern and touristy city so things are a bit more comfortable for me. I’m still facing some small troubles like heat rashes, itchy mosquito bites (which I’m trying to scratch at whist avoiding my scabs off), gaining mad weight, etc. But I’m very happy to be back around hipster joints and cocktail bars. Currently sitting in a “darkroom” coffee shop/gallery, eating a strawberry cheese tart, topped with a sprig rosemary. I’m surrounded by old tin wind-up toys from the 50s, old folding cameras, and jumbles of mismatched trinkets. How much more legit can it get? Thank god for hipsters.

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new year resos

I know a lot of people who don’t believe in New Year resolutions but I’m one of the folks who do. I know I need to slow down generally but for 2018, I want to

stop running away from problems.

stop spreading myself thin.

stop neglecting the people I love.