I fell asleep in the passenger seat you were next to me one hand on the wheel while the concrete overpass glowed in the afternoon light and i felt safe encased in steel. when I woke you were singing softly wondering when your love would return I tried not to move wondering if you’d noticed I was back on earth. »
there are few things as joyful as getting lost in a small town in another country, camera in hand. »
being there isn’t the same as thinking about being there it’s hot and most times you’re not entirely sure what’ll happen next. your vocabulary is limited to simple things and it seems everything takes forever. some moments you feel you may actually die from worry but when you’re back home idly tapping your desk at work on a stuffy afternoon you’ll wish you were anywhere but here. »
we hit town one dusty afternoon. after some bad food and good music the next day left me sick and confused drifting in and out of sleep under a mosquito net in an upstairs loft of a traditional Thai household with just enough heat to feel uncomfortable and just enough medicine to get me through. cats wandered by my friends looked concerned but all i needed was time. the day after that »
“every time I’ve been here felt like it might be the last,” I told them, “but maybe this time can be different.” »