days in and daze out, life is comfortable and simple, too comfortable for there is nothing much to do.
Gives me time to hang out with friends, play soccer, lazy about, play video games, drive around.
Ah driving around is good, yes i got my license, and it's nice. It is one of the few moments where I am truly alone within the movement. I feel as other times there is always others' energies lurking around, poking my bit-sensitive-self. It feels that there is no space, no space to express and no space to be, alone. Even in my room I can hear my brother's kids joyfully or sadly cry out. I feel I can't shout out and release the little condensed particles of stagnant energy in my bones and joints. I feel I can't play the flute as loud as I can and chant out the flow of the universe. But I also know such resistance exist in me, resistance that tires.
So tiring I slept 11 hours today, bed and dream state has been a good friend. Today's dream was in a place (with "students" or other people) with many doors in different locations, where every door contained a gateway to another dimension. I would wake up, go back into dream state, and enter another door, another dimension. Felt like I am walking into the different parts of myself, and it being affected by people around me, always morphing changing. The dream was vague, I reckon I need a notebook near my sleeping head.
Dream time, it is a good space, but I have been trying to bring it into my day time. Now I realize that is not the purpose. The purpose is to bring the Daytime and Dreamtime worlds together, not to replace one by another. I need to work with both, move into and onto different states whenever/whichever is needed. Almost making them both ready to go at all times.
The Daytime world is action, creation, and sorting things out. This is what I have been lacking, this is what a man needs to prove for his family, that he contains the ability to manifest things through doing it now, clearing things out before it builds up. To grab every opportunity available that would help in clearing the past, preserving the present, and creating the ever changing future.
Instead I have been procrastinating and waiting.
Waiting for a job I am starting on the 2nd of January, with an art gallery. Excited. Something to do. A lube to the cogs of creativity, and hopefully a little brake on thoughts. Gotta start those cogs moving, chugging, churning. Keep them thoughts focused, slowing, in control.
But really, it is never as bad as i'd like to think so, the inner joy is definitely ever-existing.
December 30, 2012
December 20, 2012
discovering the way
I am in a constant exploration in knowing my form, my way of doing things, how i live in this world and how i interact with it.
Whether i know it or not, it happens.
From time to time i grab these little ideas out of my sub-consciousness, and look again.
Metaphorically, I watch it, connect little things that I have observed in myself, changes that happen depending where I am, who I am with, make sense of it all.
It's a constant process, looking at oneself, nothing too serious about it, i am only observing, and merge sensible observations together, create new paths. Oh how i wish to show you the movement of it all.
i feel as though every beat,
every sound and word, every movement
every eye and smell,
every thought and emotion
are
inhaled through my skin pores
absorbed into my blood, viens
slowly trickling down onto neuronic pulses
shifting the mind
forming the heart
moving the body
I want to dance your beliefs
your self-inflicted pains, your self-created joys
your train of thoughts, your shivering hands
your awkward smile, your loud laugh
your hatred, love, and hard-boiled egg
i am a shapeshifter
in constant change
i have no opinions nor ways of doing things
when i do, they are a combination of yours
the environment, and the underlying veils
if i ever be free
i will dance forever the movement
of the world, of your heart.
usually these observations always get tangled with other thoughts, or more clearly explained (if ever i can be) my being jumps into different thoughts, feelings, movements. I am never at one place really.
Yet these seemingly unrelated collection of things
happening in seemingly strange timings
like a hand flinch, then a head spin, then eyes blurring, now i am thinking of conversations i had 2 hours ago, smiling, then freezing thought and movement, feeling like a 0, and in between all of that, i am typing.
this is me interacting with the world on every levels
i want to dance you
show you we are different representations of the same thing
show you the souls
that does not separate young from old
black versus white, tall and short, religious or not
i want to dance you
to show myself
the same things
Whether i know it or not, it happens.
From time to time i grab these little ideas out of my sub-consciousness, and look again.
Metaphorically, I watch it, connect little things that I have observed in myself, changes that happen depending where I am, who I am with, make sense of it all.
It's a constant process, looking at oneself, nothing too serious about it, i am only observing, and merge sensible observations together, create new paths. Oh how i wish to show you the movement of it all.
i feel as though every beat,
every sound and word, every movement
every eye and smell,
every thought and emotion
are
inhaled through my skin pores
absorbed into my blood, viens
slowly trickling down onto neuronic pulses
shifting the mind
forming the heart
moving the body
I want to dance your beliefs
your self-inflicted pains, your self-created joys
your train of thoughts, your shivering hands
your awkward smile, your loud laugh
your hatred, love, and hard-boiled egg
i am a shapeshifter
in constant change
i have no opinions nor ways of doing things
when i do, they are a combination of yours
the environment, and the underlying veils
if i ever be free
i will dance forever the movement
of the world, of your heart.
usually these observations always get tangled with other thoughts, or more clearly explained (if ever i can be) my being jumps into different thoughts, feelings, movements. I am never at one place really.
Yet these seemingly unrelated collection of things
happening in seemingly strange timings
like a hand flinch, then a head spin, then eyes blurring, now i am thinking of conversations i had 2 hours ago, smiling, then freezing thought and movement, feeling like a 0, and in between all of that, i am typing.
this is me interacting with the world on every levels
i want to dance you
show you we are different representations of the same thing
show you the souls
that does not separate young from old
black versus white, tall and short, religious or not
i want to dance you
to show myself
the same things
December 17, 2012
on the darker side
I am awake, it's 2:20am... I have been trying to play a video game, online, that I keep disconnecting from, but there is a chivalrous little man that doesn't want to give up easily on this video game! Because there is nothing better to do!
I am awake, I drank coffee far too late, buzzing with energy, energy that I have no idea in how and interest in exerting. I AM BORED!
I haven't said that word for a while, bored, but it feels ecstatically awful to experience such state once again, because I am still waiting for what to come, even though all to come is unsure.
3 days till the world ends, and I am doing nothing about it. Not that I am doing nothing, oh no no.
In the last 3 days I have been looking at screens (not all the time!), from MAC screen to TV screen, being lost in my childhood world again. Such a comfortable numbing one this world, makes me feel so out of place, out of reality, entering another to distract me.
Oh shit, is that what's going on? is life here so miserably great that all I still escape from it. Maybe this is what the child has been doing, waiting for the leaving moment, when Real Life comes in, where I have to work hard and gain my friends, where I have to live in old houses and cook most of the time.
Ah little child, have you been hiding behind screens?
avoiding interactions with people you have seen?
or is it them that avoid you?
or do they only want to be around for a little while
until they go along doing their daily thing.
Looking after children, taking care of little jobs, buying groceries, working from 8 to four, reading the Quran, hanging out with friends, studying for uni, making lunch, staying in their little caves.
Oh little child, have you made your eyes weaker? so you can't see what would happen, what will come? or you just don't want to look at the details, just see these vague little figures passing by your life, they make you smile sometimes, most of the time make you quiet, unsure what to say.
Come on little child, get up, you are 24 now. GET UP!
time to go, move on.
I know it's not so easy, they still sit infront laptops, they even got smart phones these days, say what you need quick, once those smart phones ring there is no stopping them.
But that's ok, time to go, move on.
Bring the soul into being, slowly, slowly.
stop failing.
STOP FAIL
Fail? it is when you go back, even though you know you shouldn't, but you still do. You forget about the fail, even though you know you are currently failing, and not doing anything about it, because you have started already, why stop?
The night time brings you back to me, oh little child, you want to rest in Dreams, DreamTime is what you seek, isn't that what you can find here? No? little child, DreamTime is everywhere, you just need to click onto this one.
chip-chop
The little child in me, and I keep wrestling, I want to stretch, he wants to sleep. I need to walk, he wants to sit at home. I feel like drawing painting, calligraphying, he wants to wank. I want to practice the flute, he is too shy, concerned.
At least I win at night. Meditation, sometimes, dancing, always good. Not enough
NOT ENOUGH CHILD!
wake up! time to go, move on.
I need to come in now, I need to finish this off. I can't be here for long.
I've got things to do, things to grow, people to meet. I've got no time for you!
come now, stop crying now, hear me please, why do you take over?... what are you trying to say?
what are you trying to say little child?
I guess this is what you get for digging deep, into yourself, you start becoming bipolar, you start to move from knowing to crying not knowing, to feeling that it's all perfect, to meh. You start to worry if people will think you're crazy, what is all this shit coming out? am I making this stuff up? is the little child an illusion? isn't all?
oh crap... what do I tell my mom now? she would/still probably think i got that little demon in me, whispering little tricky words in my ears, to divert me from the divine path. I hear myself saying "La mama! it is not a demon, it is this little child in myself, that still needs to learn, for some reason I am figuring out, he is still strong." I am sure that will go down... down.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm FUCK!
I guess I just need to keep these things coming out, solider through... or not, take every day and night as it comes, live what I can, figure out what I can, being less hard on the child, fighting my demons.
Demons, so many of them to fight Mama.
I am awake, I drank coffee far too late, buzzing with energy, energy that I have no idea in how and interest in exerting. I AM BORED!
I haven't said that word for a while, bored, but it feels ecstatically awful to experience such state once again, because I am still waiting for what to come, even though all to come is unsure.
3 days till the world ends, and I am doing nothing about it. Not that I am doing nothing, oh no no.
In the last 3 days I have been looking at screens (not all the time!), from MAC screen to TV screen, being lost in my childhood world again. Such a comfortable numbing one this world, makes me feel so out of place, out of reality, entering another to distract me.
Oh shit, is that what's going on? is life here so miserably great that all I still escape from it. Maybe this is what the child has been doing, waiting for the leaving moment, when Real Life comes in, where I have to work hard and gain my friends, where I have to live in old houses and cook most of the time.
Ah little child, have you been hiding behind screens?
avoiding interactions with people you have seen?
or is it them that avoid you?
or do they only want to be around for a little while
until they go along doing their daily thing.
Looking after children, taking care of little jobs, buying groceries, working from 8 to four, reading the Quran, hanging out with friends, studying for uni, making lunch, staying in their little caves.
Oh little child, have you made your eyes weaker? so you can't see what would happen, what will come? or you just don't want to look at the details, just see these vague little figures passing by your life, they make you smile sometimes, most of the time make you quiet, unsure what to say.
Come on little child, get up, you are 24 now. GET UP!
time to go, move on.
I know it's not so easy, they still sit infront laptops, they even got smart phones these days, say what you need quick, once those smart phones ring there is no stopping them.
But that's ok, time to go, move on.
Bring the soul into being, slowly, slowly.
stop failing.
STOP FAIL
Fail? it is when you go back, even though you know you shouldn't, but you still do. You forget about the fail, even though you know you are currently failing, and not doing anything about it, because you have started already, why stop?
The night time brings you back to me, oh little child, you want to rest in Dreams, DreamTime is what you seek, isn't that what you can find here? No? little child, DreamTime is everywhere, you just need to click onto this one.
chip-chop
The little child in me, and I keep wrestling, I want to stretch, he wants to sleep. I need to walk, he wants to sit at home. I feel like drawing painting, calligraphying, he wants to wank. I want to practice the flute, he is too shy, concerned.
At least I win at night. Meditation, sometimes, dancing, always good. Not enough
NOT ENOUGH CHILD!
wake up! time to go, move on.
I need to come in now, I need to finish this off. I can't be here for long.
I've got things to do, things to grow, people to meet. I've got no time for you!
come now, stop crying now, hear me please, why do you take over?... what are you trying to say?
what are you trying to say little child?
I guess this is what you get for digging deep, into yourself, you start becoming bipolar, you start to move from knowing to crying not knowing, to feeling that it's all perfect, to meh. You start to worry if people will think you're crazy, what is all this shit coming out? am I making this stuff up? is the little child an illusion? isn't all?
oh crap... what do I tell my mom now? she would/still probably think i got that little demon in me, whispering little tricky words in my ears, to divert me from the divine path. I hear myself saying "La mama! it is not a demon, it is this little child in myself, that still needs to learn, for some reason I am figuring out, he is still strong." I am sure that will go down... down.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm FUCK!
I guess I just need to keep these things coming out, solider through... or not, take every day and night as it comes, live what I can, figure out what I can, being less hard on the child, fighting my demons.
Demons, so many of them to fight Mama.
December 16, 2012
strips of life memory
Imagine yourself getting knocked out, every once in a while in life, taken from one place to another, finding yourself in a whole new situation, going "What's that place I just came from?" finding yourself in a strange yet familiar environment.
I've been realising everything I have been writing has been reflective of how I experience life, and experiences in life.
I started writing this blog a while ago, Strips of Melodic Memory, basically a story about a character that keeps moving between two realities, un-aware which is more real.
I experience this quite a bit. I find that I throw myself into these different situations, hardly having much thought during the transition process, where it almost seems I appear suddenly into this new place. Even when such thoughts occur, they are but a train passing by, that I forget as soon as it leaves my consciousness.
Although there is a constant memory, the soul, remembers, the growth, the understandings of life, the openings of the heart, the souls that we connect with, the Family.
And so, I have come to this new environment... again. I got knocked out, and here is what happened, is happening:
My name is Ahmed Buasallay, I am with my blood family again, with my childhood friends once more. I wasn't sure where I was, with this situation, at. That was at the start, I felt I needed to discover myself again, a constant process this one.
I am glad, with all the smiling faces around. It makes me happy to be rejoicing with friends and family that I never really understood so much before. And now it's begging to make sense.
I thought I would do many things when I come here, and I am, just not the ones I thought I would be doing straight away. Sometimes I am back into my old habits, sometimes I am discovering new places, new people, new perceptions.
I was volunteering with a project done by Al Riwaq Art Space, Market 338 it was called, a traditionally inspired market done in a modern way, with Merchants/Artists of jewellery, clothing, art, furniture, food, and other random nik-naks. I finished with that yesterday, but hopefully I am not finished with Al Riwaq just yet, I might be working with them, which is exciting for me.
I've met many interesting people there. Musicians, thinkers, expressers, open minds. People ready to hear the message, that message from the universe, god, Allah.
Found some cool things to do: playing with a composer that wants to merge music of the western classical with the Bahraini/Arabic traditional. I have played at a fancy engagement dinner party with 3 guitarists, got payed 40 BD (80 AUD). Found out great similarities of thought with a couple of cousins, we talked about interconnectedness, sub-conscious, and how to know thy self.
Begging to understand the Quran in that sense, reading or being read verses that connect with the soul journey to self-knowing, to existential exploration.
I find myself opening up more and more, and being received more and more. The process is slow, and it's good this way. I see the path, I just need to do it. Although I don't see the light at the end of the tunnel yet, but that's ok, I guess I've got short vision!
today is Bahrain National Day, celebrating Bahrain's independence from being a British colony, tomorrow is the King's throning day, or Day of Throning, kella wahid (it's all one).
There will be fire works, i am going there with my brother and nephews.
I am joyful.
I've been realising everything I have been writing has been reflective of how I experience life, and experiences in life.
I started writing this blog a while ago, Strips of Melodic Memory, basically a story about a character that keeps moving between two realities, un-aware which is more real.
I experience this quite a bit. I find that I throw myself into these different situations, hardly having much thought during the transition process, where it almost seems I appear suddenly into this new place. Even when such thoughts occur, they are but a train passing by, that I forget as soon as it leaves my consciousness.
Although there is a constant memory, the soul, remembers, the growth, the understandings of life, the openings of the heart, the souls that we connect with, the Family.
And so, I have come to this new environment... again. I got knocked out, and here is what happened, is happening:
My name is Ahmed Buasallay, I am with my blood family again, with my childhood friends once more. I wasn't sure where I was, with this situation, at. That was at the start, I felt I needed to discover myself again, a constant process this one.
I am glad, with all the smiling faces around. It makes me happy to be rejoicing with friends and family that I never really understood so much before. And now it's begging to make sense.
I thought I would do many things when I come here, and I am, just not the ones I thought I would be doing straight away. Sometimes I am back into my old habits, sometimes I am discovering new places, new people, new perceptions.
I was volunteering with a project done by Al Riwaq Art Space, Market 338 it was called, a traditionally inspired market done in a modern way, with Merchants/Artists of jewellery, clothing, art, furniture, food, and other random nik-naks. I finished with that yesterday, but hopefully I am not finished with Al Riwaq just yet, I might be working with them, which is exciting for me.
I've met many interesting people there. Musicians, thinkers, expressers, open minds. People ready to hear the message, that message from the universe, god, Allah.
Found some cool things to do: playing with a composer that wants to merge music of the western classical with the Bahraini/Arabic traditional. I have played at a fancy engagement dinner party with 3 guitarists, got payed 40 BD (80 AUD). Found out great similarities of thought with a couple of cousins, we talked about interconnectedness, sub-conscious, and how to know thy self.
Begging to understand the Quran in that sense, reading or being read verses that connect with the soul journey to self-knowing, to existential exploration.
I find myself opening up more and more, and being received more and more. The process is slow, and it's good this way. I see the path, I just need to do it. Although I don't see the light at the end of the tunnel yet, but that's ok, I guess I've got short vision!
today is Bahrain National Day, celebrating Bahrain's independence from being a British colony, tomorrow is the King's throning day, or Day of Throning, kella wahid (it's all one).
There will be fire works, i am going there with my brother and nephews.
I am joyful.
November 29, 2012
breakthrough, oh warrior
I told someone before I left Brisbane "I am not leaving, i am just dying for a bit and will be reborn."
West End feels a distant memory, temporarily suspended in my subconsciousness until future experiences.
here is how it feels being back.
i am in a different world, no jokes, over here reality has built itself by its people, like the one in Brisbane, and they have permanently suspended it, only involved on what's happening here, and slightly getting distracted by what's happening out there.
i on one hand, have left (died) my Bahraini self here, suited up with my Traveler's and ended up in my Australian pants. Now that I am back, Bahraini Ahmed was waiting, crossed arms, tapping right foot, raised eyebrow, weary of a long time un-coming, thinking that he couldn't sort his shit no more.
So i made friends with myself again, this time the Soul was conscious of body/mind changes, Bahraini and Australian (unlike last time where they almost chocked each other to death and ended up on opposite corners of the room waiting for Australian to leave and Bahraini to be left) smiled at each other, knew it is essential for Soul's existence (which is the source of their existence) to evolve, and happily tagged teamed.
Now that Bahraini has woken up, he eagerly wants to do things that he liked doing before. So I fell into old cycles, of video games and laziness, of not feeling like I want to do much, no inspiration.
Soul and Bahraini had a fight at the start, Soul trying to tell Bahraini to "GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!" but they understood eventually that it needs to happen, and things shall gradually change.
Of course all this I am seeing doesn't really make much sense, the sudden changes and all, in myself and outside. But it's slowly sinking in, I know there is a breakthrough to be had. A breakthrough of weights I have created on myself when I left. I breakthrough of Soul into being, releasing Bahraini.
Time for the Hidden Warrior to emerge. this is making me smile!
West End feels a distant memory, temporarily suspended in my subconsciousness until future experiences.
here is how it feels being back.
i am in a different world, no jokes, over here reality has built itself by its people, like the one in Brisbane, and they have permanently suspended it, only involved on what's happening here, and slightly getting distracted by what's happening out there.
i on one hand, have left (died) my Bahraini self here, suited up with my Traveler's and ended up in my Australian pants. Now that I am back, Bahraini Ahmed was waiting, crossed arms, tapping right foot, raised eyebrow, weary of a long time un-coming, thinking that he couldn't sort his shit no more.
So i made friends with myself again, this time the Soul was conscious of body/mind changes, Bahraini and Australian (unlike last time where they almost chocked each other to death and ended up on opposite corners of the room waiting for Australian to leave and Bahraini to be left) smiled at each other, knew it is essential for Soul's existence (which is the source of their existence) to evolve, and happily tagged teamed.
Now that Bahraini has woken up, he eagerly wants to do things that he liked doing before. So I fell into old cycles, of video games and laziness, of not feeling like I want to do much, no inspiration.
Soul and Bahraini had a fight at the start, Soul trying to tell Bahraini to "GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!" but they understood eventually that it needs to happen, and things shall gradually change.
Of course all this I am seeing doesn't really make much sense, the sudden changes and all, in myself and outside. But it's slowly sinking in, I know there is a breakthrough to be had. A breakthrough of weights I have created on myself when I left. I breakthrough of Soul into being, releasing Bahraini.
Time for the Hidden Warrior to emerge. this is making me smile!
November 22, 2012
inter the dimension
I have entered a different dimension, no doubt about this.
And I have fallin' into it as soon as I entered. It's a dimension where my child excited, unaware of the effects of it on him. A dimension where one of it's purpose is to erase all thoughts of other places, brings you back into Home, and makes you appreciate the place you are at. I started as questioning my place and what I am doing in life, but that didn't last for long.
We had to come to terms, I knew this within the 3days, I had to be absorb the dimension, slowly, let it be part of me, so I can appreciate it.
The first couple of days where in suspense, in space, in "i just came down the plane and i don't know what the hell is going on, but i do, but it's really confusing, and my body/soul hasn't landed on ground yet". It felt like I am like jelly, easily persuaded jelly. "good morning Ahmedi! yalla get up we'll go cut your hair and maybe then you can go to the Morrocon bath house and get cleaned up! that would be nice!" was my first wake up call, I am dazed.
So I got "pushed around" a bit, parents and brother telling what to do or what I could be doing "come with me to this meeting maybe you will benefit", "let us go get your licence!"
It's good though, in a sense, they are getting things going for me, otherwise I would be stuck in a daze.
The daze, the parents thinking I can't do things for myself, and I can't over here, it's a different dimension, I wish I was thrown here without a place and connections in some ways, so I can discover Bahrain, not go back to something that existed 6 years ago, and still does.
I woke up, slowly making sense of why I am here, I think I understand now. I need to be here & now, i am not leaving, for now, I am not thinking of leaving, until this mission is complete. I need to show that I am independent, I need to be a man, I need to be Man. Time to connect with the masculine. Time to leave the shadows of my parents, shadows of society's projections.
But I can't do it in sudden, rediscovering, re-entering, in depth and surface. The underworld and upperworld, two sides coming together in the middle.
"most benevolent of matters are its middle"
- Prophet Mohammed
I am now looking for graphic design full time work, looking for artists and musicians, re-connecting with family and friends, writing, drawing, hardly playing flute, reading. Loving life in a different way.
And I have fallin' into it as soon as I entered. It's a dimension where my child excited, unaware of the effects of it on him. A dimension where one of it's purpose is to erase all thoughts of other places, brings you back into Home, and makes you appreciate the place you are at. I started as questioning my place and what I am doing in life, but that didn't last for long.
We had to come to terms, I knew this within the 3days, I had to be absorb the dimension, slowly, let it be part of me, so I can appreciate it.
The first couple of days where in suspense, in space, in "i just came down the plane and i don't know what the hell is going on, but i do, but it's really confusing, and my body/soul hasn't landed on ground yet". It felt like I am like jelly, easily persuaded jelly. "good morning Ahmedi! yalla get up we'll go cut your hair and maybe then you can go to the Morrocon bath house and get cleaned up! that would be nice!" was my first wake up call, I am dazed.
So I got "pushed around" a bit, parents and brother telling what to do or what I could be doing "come with me to this meeting maybe you will benefit", "let us go get your licence!"
It's good though, in a sense, they are getting things going for me, otherwise I would be stuck in a daze.
The daze, the parents thinking I can't do things for myself, and I can't over here, it's a different dimension, I wish I was thrown here without a place and connections in some ways, so I can discover Bahrain, not go back to something that existed 6 years ago, and still does.
I woke up, slowly making sense of why I am here, I think I understand now. I need to be here & now, i am not leaving, for now, I am not thinking of leaving, until this mission is complete. I need to show that I am independent, I need to be a man, I need to be Man. Time to connect with the masculine. Time to leave the shadows of my parents, shadows of society's projections.
But I can't do it in sudden, rediscovering, re-entering, in depth and surface. The underworld and upperworld, two sides coming together in the middle.
"most benevolent of matters are its middle"
- Prophet Mohammed
I am now looking for graphic design full time work, looking for artists and musicians, re-connecting with family and friends, writing, drawing, hardly playing flute, reading. Loving life in a different way.
November 19, 2012
the journey towards the old
Last days of Brisbane, seeing people, saying goodbyes. A storm arrives to tell me goodbye and clears my path to head to my next destination.
In the airport, I enter the Unknown realm, where I am unknown to everyone, everyone unknown to me. It puts me in an internal space where I start exploring those hidden feelings of my journey back home. Nothing yet. I play a bit of flute, go somewhere, come back, start reading The Messenger by Markus Zusak, seems like a nice book.
I fly for 9 hours and appear in Thailand. Now that's an interesting place.
I took a taxi to Pat Pong (suggested by my flight seat neighbor, he said 30 bhat to 1 dollar is good), where a night market is (since I am there by 9pm) I plan not to sleep.
When I get there, I don't have enough money for the taxi, a dude asks "what do you need" then he takes me to an oldish man that does money exchange on the street at his bar, "30 bhat for 1 dollar" he says, we exchange and go back to taxi for the money.
I walk around the markets, here is what i see:
wallets, watches, pocket knives, shirts, lots of t-shirts, weird toys, people showing me pictures of women (i guess for good times), people asking me if I wanted a ping-pong show, really fatty looking food, fried meat, fruit, coconuts, faces faces faces.
I keep walking up and down, looking for something, nothing seems to be it, except for a coconut, that was great. I walk away from the markets and start playing flute, someone shoosh's me, I think it's a residential area, I play for a bit more and decide it doesn't feel right. I want a park.
I give up on walking and looking, I go back to oldish money man, sit down and read my book while having sips of Tiger stubbies, the character Ed gets hints of people he needs to deliver messages too, I look at the faces of Thailand night world, such a strange world that one, full of happy drunks, smiling cops, Thai teens, loud Australians, lost Europeans, and ragged homies.
I ask for instructions to the airport "as cheap as possible" the oldish money man likes me (because I played a bit of flute for him) he gets someone to write a message for me in Thai and gives me 4 ciggis. It's 2pm now, I keep walking into back streets and stinky turns, locking eyes with stray cats and smiling at beer drinkers, one of them asks me "you want good time?" i answer no for the 30th time, but i sit down for ciggi and a beer with them, talk about little life, they try to sell me a joint "300 bhat!" but i wanted to stay awake.
I keep walking, everything is closed now, 3pm, i find McDonalds, I drink a coffee and read a bit more of the Messenger, Ed delivers messages to people, I think about the message I need to deliver, no idea.
I leave and walk further, and i find a park! there is big white ceramic steps leading to a solider statue in the middle, on the side a beautiful shrine, hindu maybe? it had elephants. The elephants tell me "keep grounding yourself, ground will keep you sane" I smile to them and nod. There is sleeping peeps on the ceramic all around, I sit on a top step and play them flute, put the sleepers to sleep. This place feels nice.
I walk into a bigger park (the statue was just the entrance) it's 5pm, the day world people are awake now, with speakers of music, one person facing many segregated others, doing funny little movements, stretching, getting the blood flowing. So many different speakers and segregated others around the park. I walk and smile and find little spots to play flute and a spot near a little lake to meditate to distant slow Chinese music and watch little flying bats sweep above the water. I like this place, smells good.
I stay till sunrise, walking slowly through the park, looking at the different spaces, there is a section with weights anyone can use! There is more people doing one person facing segregated others morning exercises, younger people with "funkier more modern" music and moves. I read more of The Messenger, Ed has to do things he doesn't really love, like beating up people, as part of his messages.
I decide I am going to be silent, without knowing, it's so easy to do it here! I go to street food stalls and point at what I want, do a gesture to ask price, they tell me the price, pay, eat, and smile. After I finish eating a number of selections for breakfast, I try to find a taxi, time to leave now.
One stops to drop someone, I ask, with my body language, "are you available?" he says with his body "what you need?" I show him the note mr. oldish money man gave me, he nods, I come in and sit silently smiling. He is comfortable, I am too.
We arrive, I give him the money, I go up the train station, show the message again, they give me a ticket to the airport, and in 20mins I am there again.
Wait for 3 hours, get on the plane, wait for 8 hours, arrive in O-man airport.
Now here is where a bit of realization hits me, the weather, the smell and the talk of the people. I absorb it, let it sink in. It feels nice, it feels right. a bit daunting. I finish reading The Messenger, he realize he is not the messenger, he is the Message.
4 hours and i'm in flight again (the whole journey was 36 hours), I arrive at Bahrain, 9pm. And the for the first time in 2012, it rains. And storms in the early morning.
I see my family, they are happy, I am happy. It's good to be home.
I know there is a bridge to be built, but oh Allah, I have no idea where it begins.
the storm talks to me in my sleep.
In the airport, I enter the Unknown realm, where I am unknown to everyone, everyone unknown to me. It puts me in an internal space where I start exploring those hidden feelings of my journey back home. Nothing yet. I play a bit of flute, go somewhere, come back, start reading The Messenger by Markus Zusak, seems like a nice book.
I fly for 9 hours and appear in Thailand. Now that's an interesting place.
I took a taxi to Pat Pong (suggested by my flight seat neighbor, he said 30 bhat to 1 dollar is good), where a night market is (since I am there by 9pm) I plan not to sleep.
When I get there, I don't have enough money for the taxi, a dude asks "what do you need" then he takes me to an oldish man that does money exchange on the street at his bar, "30 bhat for 1 dollar" he says, we exchange and go back to taxi for the money.
I walk around the markets, here is what i see:
wallets, watches, pocket knives, shirts, lots of t-shirts, weird toys, people showing me pictures of women (i guess for good times), people asking me if I wanted a ping-pong show, really fatty looking food, fried meat, fruit, coconuts, faces faces faces.
I keep walking up and down, looking for something, nothing seems to be it, except for a coconut, that was great. I walk away from the markets and start playing flute, someone shoosh's me, I think it's a residential area, I play for a bit more and decide it doesn't feel right. I want a park.
I give up on walking and looking, I go back to oldish money man, sit down and read my book while having sips of Tiger stubbies, the character Ed gets hints of people he needs to deliver messages too, I look at the faces of Thailand night world, such a strange world that one, full of happy drunks, smiling cops, Thai teens, loud Australians, lost Europeans, and ragged homies.
I ask for instructions to the airport "as cheap as possible" the oldish money man likes me (because I played a bit of flute for him) he gets someone to write a message for me in Thai and gives me 4 ciggis. It's 2pm now, I keep walking into back streets and stinky turns, locking eyes with stray cats and smiling at beer drinkers, one of them asks me "you want good time?" i answer no for the 30th time, but i sit down for ciggi and a beer with them, talk about little life, they try to sell me a joint "300 bhat!" but i wanted to stay awake.
I keep walking, everything is closed now, 3pm, i find McDonalds, I drink a coffee and read a bit more of the Messenger, Ed delivers messages to people, I think about the message I need to deliver, no idea.
I leave and walk further, and i find a park! there is big white ceramic steps leading to a solider statue in the middle, on the side a beautiful shrine, hindu maybe? it had elephants. The elephants tell me "keep grounding yourself, ground will keep you sane" I smile to them and nod. There is sleeping peeps on the ceramic all around, I sit on a top step and play them flute, put the sleepers to sleep. This place feels nice.
I walk into a bigger park (the statue was just the entrance) it's 5pm, the day world people are awake now, with speakers of music, one person facing many segregated others, doing funny little movements, stretching, getting the blood flowing. So many different speakers and segregated others around the park. I walk and smile and find little spots to play flute and a spot near a little lake to meditate to distant slow Chinese music and watch little flying bats sweep above the water. I like this place, smells good.
I stay till sunrise, walking slowly through the park, looking at the different spaces, there is a section with weights anyone can use! There is more people doing one person facing segregated others morning exercises, younger people with "funkier more modern" music and moves. I read more of The Messenger, Ed has to do things he doesn't really love, like beating up people, as part of his messages.
I decide I am going to be silent, without knowing, it's so easy to do it here! I go to street food stalls and point at what I want, do a gesture to ask price, they tell me the price, pay, eat, and smile. After I finish eating a number of selections for breakfast, I try to find a taxi, time to leave now.
One stops to drop someone, I ask, with my body language, "are you available?" he says with his body "what you need?" I show him the note mr. oldish money man gave me, he nods, I come in and sit silently smiling. He is comfortable, I am too.
We arrive, I give him the money, I go up the train station, show the message again, they give me a ticket to the airport, and in 20mins I am there again.
Wait for 3 hours, get on the plane, wait for 8 hours, arrive in O-man airport.
Now here is where a bit of realization hits me, the weather, the smell and the talk of the people. I absorb it, let it sink in. It feels nice, it feels right. a bit daunting. I finish reading The Messenger, he realize he is not the messenger, he is the Message.
4 hours and i'm in flight again (the whole journey was 36 hours), I arrive at Bahrain, 9pm. And the for the first time in 2012, it rains. And storms in the early morning.
I see my family, they are happy, I am happy. It's good to be home.
I know there is a bridge to be built, but oh Allah, I have no idea where it begins.
the storm talks to me in my sleep.
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