Note For Rent

Bedding Triptych

I had three final clients in the week before my departure.

The first was a psychiatrist.

The second had broad-spectrum Autism.

The third was a psychiatrist.

I suspect that the universe has been trying to speak to me in code.

Vacation

Did that last post even make sense in all its vaguerey? I’m not certain, but at least it got me back here.

Southeast Asia is all sun, and ocean, and heat, on top of heat, on top of heat. I have established something of a tan, and created an embarrassing profusion of empty, oversized beer bottles, which are collected on the tasteful little table in my lounge room; mostly, they are named Tiger. I’m beginning to wonder how I can smuggle them out without the knowledge of my Thai hosts.

Reflection away from the world you know has it’s boons and burdens, I think. Coming somewhere so alien all alone leaves you a little adrift, constantly taking your bearings, and gifts you with impressions of difference; but I don’t know how much personal epiphany I’m achieving – if that’s even why I’m here.

Every night the sun sets a little after six, and the sky burns a low, sherbet orange; and I think,

Yes. That’s enough.

But there are the swaths of time from the morning to the late afternoon, as I wander around, thinking very little at all, except maybe about the iced fruit drinks I consume with compulsive regularity, and about how I’m anxious to start another stage to my life, but how although I know the direction, I’m unable to beat any specifics out of that cardinal point until a reach it; so I’ve come to a tropical waiting room, wasting time until I can get onto another plane.

And I still don’t know what I feel about leaving; or if it was even the best decision.

I am really loving not having a phone, though. Not being tuned into the sounds and sensations your front pocket makes really is quite liberating.

My brain is finally out of my trousers.

Break Silence, part 2

I am certainly humbled by the sheer amount of mail I have received (and not answered) this past month. I’m a fairly terrible absentee landlord, to be sure. Perfectly despicable; but still here.

I mentioned transition before; and transition has ended up involving more of my resources (emotional, physical, psychic) than I had initially expected.

(Isn’t it always the way.)

And I’ve been repelled by the blog, by the sheer task of assailing the material. I haven’t even logged into my Typepad account since last I wrote; and it’s not that I haven’t done much: I’ve packed; I’ve fretted; I’ve mooned… but it’s all internal, which turns out to be the space most frightening to articulate: because as soon as you say it it’s true, and as soon as it’s down in print, it’s real. I’ve covered a lot of ground. I’ve had a lot to say to myself, before I could possibly say it to anyone else.

End result: as a compromise, I’m broadcasting an abridged version:

What was that Pink said? I’m not something, something…? I don’t remember exactly, but I have at least twice as many separate words in my blog than she has chords in her songs, so I mean what she said.

I am still here. I’ve been busy.

I’m by the ocean, right now. It’s very hot.

Okay, maybe not that abridged, however true.

I’d reached my terminus with prostitution in my host location. I’d done my best, had predominantly good experiences, made some money; and it was time to leave. So, decision made, I started to prep -- and then everything became more complicated. Relationships that had been started as good-faith interims became surprisingly serious; living arrangements that had been stress-free became fraught with difficulty; and then there was the question of what to do next....

I had a plan. The plan was good.

The plan was too naive.

So, I’ve been fixing. And dealing. And doing my best (my best, my best…).

And I haven’t been here.

And now I'm in Asia; in transition.

Let me say that I am quite overwhelmed by my readers. As happy as I have been to have a forum for my experiences over this past year or so, I never expected to see it thrive so. You guys and gals are tops. Kudos.

We’ll see this to the end, you and me.