Last night in Bangkok, for now. Young skinny loony mastered vampire, eyebrows up like wings of a bat, furious dark hairfire, suck sucking sucker of a burmese ladyboy, kept telling me he is not gay at all. And the sexy lady next to me, whispering her desire to lay down with me in bed, just for hugging. Escaping the lady, sacrificing the ladyboy, feeling his knees tremble at my toes. Good Riddance! I was too drunken. Appreciate the Sang Som, again.
Overslept. Waked up in disorder, gathering, focusing, rised in a moment of shock, felt like bounced against a bar of perception. My flight is today!
Two hours left to tight me, myself and my backpack, splattered on the floor of the four walls hotel room. Check my creditcards again at the ATM near Khao San. Spent the last two days calling my bank back so called home and going to again and again. And again. Probably tried all kinds of, ATMs, Exchange counters, banks, business banks, international banks, just to get the message, call your bank. I got it at the first time! My beloved bank told me in a very friendly and naiv way that i should be fine and try again maybe tomorrow. What kind of tomorrow you mean? The tomorrow when i start my new carreer as a beggar or what? So today is tomorrow. Still. Doesn´t work at all. Fuck the banks. Fuck money. Fuck rushing around. It´s all about that worst addiction plastic shit, cracking my asshole. I was getting paranoid. Is this kind of curse? Caused by my negative approach about Bangkok? Or is it because of my black cross upside down shirt? Does the government want to get rid off me because i drink all the Sang Som? Or is this fate, tries to tell me not to leave to Yangon. And i just will, and will remember that moment, as i didn´t listen to fate, saving my life, toothbrush whatever.
In Myanmar only cash is real, no plastic, that´s their – the travel pimps – advice. Because you never know what´s happening in a country like this. 8 years ago, i was part of this political game, but today, changed a lot and fast.
I am so pissed. More about myself then the rest. Why i didn´t take a third creditcard with me? WHY? I feel like a busted falling traveller down to the ground, to reality.
Will i be tomorrow in Yangon? Will i survive Myanmar? Will i get money there? I am surely be too proud to ask other farangs to run a money deal and supporting my pace back on the road.
Will i?
Do i have to… what?
I am sick of these browsing questions in my head, zombies of lost security, transformed utopia of a certain upright life.
I have to do NOTHING!
I will do what i want.
Pock that in your fucking head, brainmachine!
Nothing is hastening, not time nor my feet should.
It´s all about present. Should be.
Maybe that´s kind of the weight you have to take care of by travelling lonesome and it comes to money. Feel like a black honking donkey.
Will i catch my flight?
Of course, easy, i catched. The lady at the hotel told me i will be ok taking the minibus two and a half hour before departure. Bus takes only one hour. Trip through the metal smoking traffic jam of Bangkok made me start thinking different. After 65 minutes i was standing in front of the baggage desk. Right now sitting in the Air Asia Boeing. Now everybody can fly. The slogan of the aircraft, forced me to imagine a kid nosing down hundreds of screams in a rice field.
Leaving Bangkok feels so liberating. And i am also kind of proud, haven´t visited one Waht, royal place or Buddha posing for flashlights. Proud cause i don´t feel disappointed about at all. Never wanted to be a traveler, adventurer or tourist. I am all of it and less. You never see all sights, there will always be one more, more authentic, more local, more of the most wanted. The advantage of that? I can do what i want to and i will always be a boring conversational partner with other farangs. I can´t advise you anything, and then, the best at the end, i was here more than 8 years ago. Yes. That was technical K.O. – Wow! That must be like totally different in comparison to today. I didn´t thought you are that old, you look so young.
K.O.
I can show you how to drink with locals or gettig around with no maps and guides, getting lost and don´t feel like a shadow of your own, fearing the dark side of the void.
Where are your from?
Where have you been?
Where will you go?
Where are the hidden tracks? Have you found some?
You know what? Drink. Shut up. Drink. Or leave, just leave. Or even better, don´t start to chat with me. Yes. Again. One more day without talking to someone.
I am disgusted by farangs and to be one of them, it´s like a second skin, which you can´t burn, even by the sun. I start to deny, deny being not in my home country.
Conclusion: nearly missed wake up calls, buses, flights, responsibility, awareness or my promise to take care of myself.
Solution: Stop drinking. Start to be focused. Start to share the ego, maybe it will stop mutating me from the inside.
I am a louzy traveler, don´t have a map, a lonely planet or a kind of backgrounds about countries i stay. But, so, i can´t dispute at all.
Mybe i should just shut up.
I will.
I have to.
