alone or lonesome? part 2: emotional laxitives

before my departure many people told me that travelling solo for 3 months sounded intimidating. i had welcomed friends and family to join me for short treks but on the whole i wanted to do this alone. i assumed that becoming exhausted by foreign environs would cause terrible bouts of loneliness. i gingerly looked forward to the epiphanies this duress might bring.

this has not occurred. to an absurd degree i am almost always under the care of local hosts who do their best to steer me towards the good food, away from the shoddy diggs, and into the company of more fun and fabulous people. although the ease with which ive befriended folks who were strangers just hours prior is an encouraging sign for global harmony it has also created its own special kind of ironic lonesome.

its been weirdly easy to make authentic connections with fun, smart, friendly and sexy people... but confusing to say goodbye a few hours or days later. warm fuzzy fantasy got thrown out the window when omar jarringly said, 'ill never see you again.' there have been a few lucky exceptions, like reuniting with him and jaime in bali, coincidentally shadowing matt in thailand and cambodia and deliberately booking a 40 hour return to bangkok to see thanpisit encore. but these are unusual and who knows if our paths will cross a third time.

the quality and quantity of people ive met is not normal. the authentic rapport and emotions exchanged are not normal. it is crazy to treat unusual situations in usual ways so if the statistical likelihood of developing our relationship seems unlikely, why not seal the deal now? abandon the tender, generous and trusting for the naughty, dangerous or absurd finale before its too late. give me everything you can give me right now.

at a 'fuckey show' on soi duangthawee a young guy with #25 attached to his briefs keeps asking me if i want to buy him. i decline but find myself drunk in the same seat the next night, disappointed when #8 explains that # two bits already went home with somebody. the tranny pimp offers herself as a consolation prize. i leave puzzled at how close i am to buying another human being. i go to the dance club and learn that when you cant take your favorite prostitute home, you might settle for a money boy who shoves two pills into your mouth he thinks are MDMH but they are laxitives. its a fitting, literal metaphor for how physical contact can make one feel awfully empty yet hungry for more.
more bangkok photos here.