What we have is Gold.

I would love to be a better person and never talk bad about others, I would to get to the point of not even thinking bad about others. To see and search out the good.

There are a lot of things I want to do better for the new year, for the new, (hopefully) ever-changing me.

But shoot, sometimes it is so hard. . . .

Today I got up at seven and slowly went down to the city street. All the shops were closed up and people were sleeping on the sidewalks, there were munks walking the streets gathering food, as they do every morning, people still drinking at the bar on the corner and playing pool and there was an old man there too.  He was like 55-60ish, he was with a young Asian girl, they had bags like they were waiting for a taxi to take them someplace.
I walked across the street to the seven eleven and then back to my hostel, keeping my eye on them the entire time.

And maybe it was because it was 7am, but she looked so sad, her eyes held a dark hole almost, she was very young and beautiful. The way he stood by her or how he would touch her arm you could tell the relationship between the two were not "just buddies" or "father daughter"

We have been seeing a lot these old white men with Asian girls, it was not a new sight.

But on the quiet morning road just me and them and the munks, it tugged on my heart strings. And all my energy was consumed in hatred for this man, he wore a tank top with cut offs, one gagged ear, big beer belly, and scraggly unwashed hair. The more I looked at him the more of a pervert he became in my mind, selfish and childish. She should have been sleeping in in a big fluffy bed somewhere from a night of fun with friends, she should have been romanced by one of these cute Asian boys, and if she is sleeping with anyone it should have been her boyfriend of two years because she felt like she was young and in love, and the two of them had their own real life story of Romeo and Juliet and if her parents found out they would have killed her.

A part of me wanted to do something, I started to think of things to say to her. . . . . but I just watched, and thought of how wicked the world was. For all the good I see there is hard evils out there too. Maybe more prominent on the dirty streets of Bangkok.

I have to admit that a part of me, while traveling with the backpackers, is completely in love with the lifestyle, so carefree, dreaming of new adventures, in no hurry, finding love in everything, smoking swearing and drinking, and it is a temptation to have a casual drink to get a real cute tattoo and maybe dread my hair.

But then days like today I am glad that I'm different, and I have not sold myself to an old man for a night, or that I've messed up my clear mind that I would want to purchase a girl for a night, or even just get too drunk and pass out and forget the night before.

Most of these people are dreamers, dreaming of a better life, dreaming of what they can see do or achieve and, like most dreamers, they are asleep to the waking world.









The idea of Love has been so tainted in the world.  I read a poem today owed to ice cream hanging in an ice cream shop in the middle of the city. It reminded me of everything good that I have every felt from being in a relationship, and instilled in me a desire to have someone love me like the author of that poem loved ice cream. It also instilled in me a desire to write a poem about Bananas and Mango's, and rid my life of everything except the things that make me feel love.