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Yesterday I joined at my friend´s house, cambodian brother living with his family in the countryside, his son´s, Banja, first birthday celebration. Procedure same same, birthday or not, old enough or not. Getting smashed in minutes and preserve in minute cycle. And it was as always a greenish hell! Surrounded by haggard countryside kids, dirty, snotty, ropily hair, picking noses, poking their noses, curious as a magnifying glass. Or curious as adults. And watching them, discovering their place, their viewpoint, standing, lurking in ambitious gaze. Watching the women preparing the food, processing nature I would have never thought of eating. The outsized sound system fire all over the village khmer pop. A march of hoofbeats, a farmer, his son and a bunch of cows in their tow. A view on paddy fields, makes your eyes bleeding amazement. Sometimes it feels here like I opened my eyes for the first time. Even though this changes. How I look at people, at tourists. With a crept-in routine of racism, ostracism, classification, self alienation. It is absurd, but in a way these thoughts are entertaining. My brain and its configuration – is my brain male because I am a dick beam? – are the authors of this funny off theater called “Let´s try to keep us humans together without killing each other too rollicking, but having, not sharing, some advantages of it. Long titles are modern nowadays I heard. But self alienation also provides a feeling of home. A socializing emotional settlement. Maybe even human. In fact, my hate is returning to humanity. I will watch it and keep you up-to-date before it erases your perception and its surface. I was struggling on my ride back in town with my gift. I have lots of respect and affection for the family. I put fifty dollars in an envelope. And bought Banja floating island. I expected a big party. Like my other khmer families living in town do. And here is the difference, the remarkable difference. We are in the countryside. We are where people don´t have electricity yet, where are not enough schools, roads in a worst condition, no school bus, no lunch boxes. I know it wsa too much and I suppose I made them feel shy and myself silly, but who cares, it was actually fourhundredfifty dollars too little. And now comes the german routine, “He will not get rich anyway.” Wow. I was shocked seeing this thought crossing my mind. Years ago I would have punished myself with reading Adorno or machining the punching bag. Today I feel still disgusted, but I see my minds crossing, my corruption. We are all corrupt. We are all racists. We are what we deserve. We are what humanity leaves us to be. We are what we create and we are responsible. I see my mind crossing and my whole body, my being hurts.
The day before yesterday I decided to give Somnang company. To take a bit pressure off me. Somnang is very close, we are close, but she is physically close. And I thought it might be better for the both of us, healthier, more natural – says the human, if she has a species buddy. Here we are again. Isn´t it funny how arrogant we even express our thoughtfulness and empathy? I just want to avoid that we, I mean this whole Somnang-and-me thing, slide into some kind of odd relationship, like she replaces a partner and I am her hide-out and easy carer, because I would do everything for her, even condemn her to share me. After two days, no casualties yet. But no friendshipping as well.

Summarising all this, I finally end up admitting, I am a fucking hippie. With withered flowers and vodka instead of LSD, but I am a stupid hippie.