I guess I need to ask myself whether I care what people think of me. And the unfortunate answer is yes, yes, and hell yes.
There are some people who are trying to live well, be happy, and not screw anyone over in the process.
And then there are some people who employ a vicious fascination with other people’s lives. I’m scared of these ones. Like mad dogs. When do you get old enough to lose your fangs? My life is not meat. I wish I was strong enough to bite back.
I feel so off-balance and helpless. Like everything is just happening to me and I can’t even react in a meaningful way.
I miss Thailand less and less… The one thing is the dancing. If I was walking down the street in Fargo, heard music, and started busting it… I would get locked up most likely. But in Thailand? Heck naw. I could dance wherever/whenever, and there was always someone who would join me.
and oh, the ocean. Except invariably when I wanted to stand at the edge and watch the waves late at night, someone would ALWAYS ALWAYS come and insist on trying to make small talk. I had no patience for it.
I should take a meditation class or two. No one would come up and make small talk with me if I was in deep meditation in my room. hopefully.
I’m sort of really into a dude. I cooked for him which I rarely do, even for myself. eee! crazy.
I spent the first
two decades of my life
trying to guess the meaning of
I won’t spend the next chapter
trying to escape
I rain on into the refraction-after
into the shine that comes only when
the thunder’s washed everything deaf
I tarnish myself through
the kinds of situations I’m later told
I should have avoided
bruise me selfless
polish my exterior
with your diamond knives
I only get softer
pain breeds wakefulness
I dream through all shades of
wrote this a while ago. I am so numb right now. Need to remember how to live wildly and I really really just wanna ditch this place. escape.
“Why are you single?”
It’s the million dollar question isn’t it? Truth be told, I don’t trust anyone enough for a cage. I don’t think I ever could. I want to run when I feel like it. I want the option to purchase plane tickets on a whim and just go. Anywhere. I don’t want to have to check in with someone, to constantly call, text, skype, etc. I want to be my own person.
andddd the fact that there are like a MILLION hot new Brazilian students at my university might be having an effect on my lovelife choices too.
Conversation with one of the old ladies at my nursing home:
Her: What do they call toilet paper in Thailand?
Me: Well… they call it toilet paper….I guess.
Her: I bet they call it butt-wipe!
I freakin’ love my job.
Me: “Well in five years if we’re both still single, we should get married so you can get American citizenship.”
Him: “That’s a good idea, thanks Amy”
my shoulderblades have
now the most reckless
broken-glass battle scars
dancing barefoot in dirty streets
drunk off the
wind in my veins
since the day I
killed the past with
It’s six AM and I can’t sleep. Jet laggin’ like none other. Transitioning back to the U.S. hasn’t been so hard yet. I have missed some things in the past two months. Mostly people, but the fact that I can dance without paying exorbitant prices for drinks is a nice little bonus. In Thailand I often got kicked out of bars because I wanted to dance without buying anything.
I no longer feel like I’ve left the past behind. Fargo is full of people that know too many personal things about me. Eek, I wanna get out again. Cue the obsessive internet searches for plane tickets.
Was talking to my brother, and apparently my parents were so worried about me while I was gone that they were losing sleep. This makes me feel kind of awful, although it wouldn’t have changed anything had I known. This is something I had to do. Why worry about something you have no power over? It must have something to do with having kids. I remain every joyful about my lack of uterus-spawn.
Besides, Patong is full of cops. No one there wants to mess up their source of income (tourists). I always felt safe, even walking home in the early AM, alone.
On my last day, I met a Thai taxi driver who was impressed with my (very limited) grasp on the Thai language. I wanted to cross the street and traffic was pretty bad, so he had me take his arm, and walked me very slowly across the street (with a huge line of cars zooming toward us) while humming the wedding march. That sort of comical openness to strangers is something I will miss. I suspect it would have been even better in the non-touristy parts of Thailand (although the language barrier would be terrible).
Fun fact: There is no road rage in Thailand. They are crazy/dangerous drivers, sure. But they don’t get angry if you are in their way/driving too slow/whatever. They simply slow down, or try to get around you. Fargo traffic seems absurdly tame, as if every car is driven by a very careful, very ponderous old lady.
I will go back. Not to Patong, but definitely to Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and some of the tropical islands. I so wish I could sleep right now. ugh.
After teaching my class yesterday, my instructor/observer told me he couldn’t find any mistakes in my teaching process. So I’m insanely proud of myself right now, and so, so happy.. I think I want to teach English in Japan. Of course, I’m basing this solely off the fact that my Japanese students I taught last week are so crazyawesome.
I love teaching. I always thought maybe I’d be bad at it, but now that I know I’ll do fine, the world is my freakin’ oyster.
Every other night here is a going away party as we all slowly drift homewards or on to new travels. I leave Sunday. Can’t wait to be back, can’t stand to leave.
Part of a sample lesson plan : (the fun, drawing part)
Koh Phi Phi! Paradise
I love watching the sunset in Patong… everywhere else it seems so violent, but here it’s golden and soft. All the little mermaid babies (i.e. children) frolic in the waves and it may be the most picturesque thing I’ve seen.
favorite favorite favorite Japanese dude in the whole world.
This kid is one crazy dancer. If you are coming to Patong Beach, Thailand, I highly recommend the Banana Discotheque. Spent an amazing couple of hours here.
I think I remember that I loved to dance in high school, but I don’t think it was an obsession like it is now… Nobody in Mott ever really danced, some did (poorly) if they were drunk. I don’t know how I learned to dance while growing up without a tv set, surrounded by non-dancing friends.
“When I dance, I cannot judge, I cannot hate, I cannot separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole, that is why I dance.”
I only have one week left in Thailand. Everything has been perfect. The people I’ve met, the places I’ve been, my students, my fellow teachers. I have danced on the beaches of a tropical island, on the dirty Bangla road, in backstreet bars with Thais who have no customers since it’s the tourist off season. I’ve gotten into dance-offs in the rain, and taught fire-dancers and waiters how to swing-dance. I hit clubs with my crazy Japanese students, and sang/screamed so hard that my voice didn’t come back for days. I have gotten into the strangest of conversations on subjects ranging from dreams to other universes to quantum physics. I have walked the beach late nights with the best people. I have laughed harder than I would have thought possible. Oh and I’m almost certified to teach English.
There is so much shit in my past that I’ve been trying to escape.
Think I finally half-managed it 🙂