IMG_20140213_072922Plane hits the ground and I can already feel the all night street vendors, the bustling suits, massage parlors, disgruntled shop tenders, beautiful faces, fey boys, Indian touts hawking cheap rooms, over-priced apparel stores, all welcoming me, despising me, ripping me off, imploring, ignoring, telling me I’m Home.

Wasteiner tastes like blood; shop-owner probably German.  Mouth still burns from the boiled lobster cakes, cooked again in a thick, reddish brown broth, probably older than time.


Nowhere like Asia.  Nowhere that can keep my attention, baffle me, frustrate me, entice me like Asia.  It’s good to be home.


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