I talk to myself.

My thoughts from tonight’s dinner as scribbled down on the notes in my phone. No edits. (Picture has nothing to do with the words)Screen Shot 2018-04-10 at 8.48.26 PM.png

Where am I?

Brittney Spears’ greatest hits are on full blast, I haven’t heard a single non-Russian all day with the exception of the Thais working various establishments, the ‘night market’ is priced wildly higher than any other I’ve been to, advertisements for “supercheap” (and yes, they do look super cheap) lingerie is surrounding me on all sides, I’m sweating bullets as I devour said over priced (albeit yummy) night market find while watching someone get the dry skin on their feet eaten by tiny fish across the tables — topped with Changs and various styrofoam containers getting attacked by obnoxious flies (damn those things are EVERYWHERE).

Will I ever be able to wash the sweat off my body? Will I ever not be sticky AF? Will these mosquito bites ever stop itching? I wonder if I’ll be able to hear this soundtrack from my dorm room. I’m so full. But there’s always room for ice cream. They call it ‘fry ice cream’ but there’s no fries and it’s not fried… I’m not sure what they were trying to go for, but then again who cares? At the end of the day, I’m eating ice cream.

The rain hits the aluminum covering so hard brittney’s voice is totally drowned out. My fingers are sticky from the ice cream. Worth it.

The rain keeps coming down hard & just as quickly escaping. a few drops squeeze through the cracks in the covering and hit my arm… my ice cream is so yummy I don’t realize Brittney is no more. In her place is a country song of some sort. Takes me back to the days I drove a little yellow truck & pretended to like Kenny Chesney. The rain is REALLY coming down now. The pieces of mango in my ice cream are so chewy. Yum.
I’m sweating now. I don’t know why though… it’s actually cooled down a lot… what with the rain and all.

The rain is so hard that it’s getting swept into our little night market with the wind. Panic ensues.

My phone is getting wet… but I don’t want to put it away. Not yet.

A stray dog tries to find shelter under the covering. It’s fur is soaked. I wondering if it had fun playing in the rain? The guys making the fry ice cream are still chopping away— their ice picks are banging loudly. I’m almost done with my ice cream.

Ok, I’m finished. I’m also the only one left sitting on this side of the ‘room’ — the rest have fled to drier ground… all of them hovering closely together.

On second thought I should join them.

It’s dry here.

Omg. There’s a man in a silk blue shirt (with his collar popped up) and very clean white pants and what looks like a slim silver cummerbund — sitting in the restaurant next door [alone] singing into a microphone. The rain drops are so loud I can’t make out his words…. only the long drawn out syllables of what could be a country song. There are changing colorful lights lit up behind him. He looks fun. I wonder what his name is.

My hostel is just a short block away… should I make a run for it? It’s really coming down hard now. Lightning and thunder and everything.

Mm I wish I still had that ice cream. It was nice. There were bits of lychee and mango in it.

I wonder if my phone will get soaked if I run… I’ve still yet to hear anything other than Russian. Where the fuck am I?

Ooo there’s a clearing… I’m going for it.


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