Life and living have halted to a stand still but without a crash as i find myself doing nothing instead of everything. No more beaches, cities, temples, bars. No more wandering along hot dusty streets, dark back lanes studded with pagodas, cows, living. No more boarding planes and hanging around in train stations. No more trying to find food without fish sauce and a bed for under four pounds per night, camera clutched. Skin back to white and brain back to dead – inactive, not stimulated, i may as well be asleep.
England enveloped by thick grey cloud, how do i spend these days when there is no light or warmth? With no income and no plans. There is only so long one can stay under the duvet. At least being ill gave me an excuse before i was forced to take the medication, nausea being this weeks recurring theme.
The furthest down since, back being the reason i went. There is nothing i want from England but selected people. It’s just a big grey expensive repressive miserable mess. Good country sir – NO!
I have no inspiration, or rather it is slipping through my fingers, fast. No focus, no focus to inspire. Ideas i had before i returned not materializing. The emails i send are not being returned, darkness and cold, summer? The reality of a post travel come down. Hard just to slip, fit and return to a space i feel so far from. Lives are busy, I’ve had it too good for too long. Hum drum.
Going out onto the street and finding adventure, as oppose to walking out on the street and being surrounded by it, the exotic, the unknown. Existing on doorsteps under lanterns and strings of twinkling lights, so vividly etched on my brain. Where has that sense of wonder gone, the sense of community, the sense of excitement, the glorious colour and movement of a race that looks beyond drinking and television.Not square eyed and not beer bellied, a race that is not British. Living in box’s not mixing, heads down. Street-life being the thing i miss most. Will it come with the Olympic flame?
Thud. And then came the sun.