It was April 1993. I think I wrote:
I am in Bangkok at night having dinner with a group of Germans in a restaurant serving sauerkraut, driven around by a chauffeur in a luxurious car, and going back to sleep in a fancy tower, with this girl I’m not sure to really know after all, in a bed surrounded by African sculptures. The evening flows by slowly without letting me get a grip on it. I can’t clearly grasp where I am or why. Thailand has moved back to a remote corner of my conscience and I am absent-mindedly watching my own skid off of reality…
A few nights ago, these words came back to my mind, Vancouver having simply replaced Bangkok. Some things have changed. Some remain. Bis repetita placent. Always. Life is a long slide sideways. In the end, accepting that I am perpetually out of control might be the only empowering solution.
[Written and posted via my IPaq and Wi-Fi.]