Same day as before. Switched from the beach to the pool so I could vibe along to reggae instead of pop dance music blasting from the beach club next door. I can still hear the bumping from the club, but I’m in a spot where the music here is louder.

Still haven’t heard anything about what happened to the guy. Who knows anymore? All I know is that I’m tired of the drama and I’m over the entire thing. Classic me. I always pick the crazy ones. And honestly, looking back on the entire thing, I’m not really sure I did pick him. He pursued me even though I told and showed him who I was over and over and over again. He didn’t listen to me or believe me. He just wanted his little white sex slave who wears a thong bikini to the club. That’s not me. It’s never been me. I’m tired of these men trying to make me into that. It’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.

If only I could say this was the first time I’ve fallen for this same schtick from someone from this part of the world. Okay, now we’ve learned. No more Persians. No more Indians. Definitely no more White Midwestern Americans. They were definitely the worst of the three so far, for sure. No favour, no spice. Just bland and boring, like eating mayonnaise straight from the jar. Good thing there’s so many other options on the menu. Time to taste the rainbow, lol.

Anyway, this is not to shame anyone who wears thong bikinis. It’s just… ya know… definitely a time and a place kinda thing. Wear what you want, ladies. I just don’t do thongs. So uncomfortable. Like why would anyone ever want to waltz around with a piece of string up their ass? Been there, done that. My question is: Aren’t you uncomfortable? I just don’t get it.

So yeah, over it. Especially now.

In the end, I choose me. I choose my real self, my writing, my job in Hong Kong. I choose to be a teacher. I choose to converse with randoms all night long. I choose my characters, my stories, my manuscripts. I choose to no longer engage with toxic family members, fake friends, and anyone else who wants to tear me down. I choose not to date men, because all they do is create more problems when I already have enough. I choose to leave behind SD forever. I choose me.

I choose life.

In this moment, I am happy. My only concern now is what to choose for dinner. I’m gonna roll up early tonight so I can get that first serving of steak frites for myself.

Omg all I want to do right now is just pig out and binge my feelings away with food. Alcohol does not have the same effect on me out here because I sweat it all out of my system before I can feel any of the effects. All it does is dehydrate me. So now I have to turn to my other secret indulgent comfort, which is food.

Oh god, I would give anything to smoke a joint right now. Ugh. Oh, the things I gave up when I left America…

I gotta make a new set of travel plans. It’s not in me today. Probably tomorrow. I have a pretty limited window of time to work with, so… if anything I’ll end up in Hong Kong earlier than I thought. Then I can just chill, then move into my new place, start my job training, then start my job. I’m not worried about it. Everyone I’ve talked to said it’s perfect for a first-time English teacher. They give you all the material you need. All I have to do is show up with a smile on my face and recite the script.

I am the job. The job is me. I do this job for year and I can go anywhere.

I know, there are so many people who claim to love me rooting for me to fail right now. Well, let them have their victory over the guy. Personally, I’m not surprised. I don’t think anyone should be surprised. Everyone knows I have garbage taste in men. Everyone. So, whatever.

Let’s just be excited about the job instead. New job, new career, the chance to see the world! Let’s see where it leads!