Sunday morning. Feeling heavy. Had a crazy night last night. Ridiculous.

Went out to the American bar because I couldn’t sit alone with myself anymore. I am officially in the exact same situation I was in when I lived in SD, which is deeply frustrating and annoying to me. This is just not who I want to be. Anyway, I wandered on over to see what became of me when I blacked out the other night. Got the usual answer I always get from people: “We were worried about you. You disappeared without telling anyone where you were going.”

Typical.

Found the joint thief and discovered the Hong Kong-themed lounge upstairs. Apparently one of the owners/shareholders lived in HK back in the 90’s and has a soft spot for it. He decorated the whole second floor with photos of Hong Kong and vintage posters. It’s so cool! I love it! What a special place to feel connected to. I feel lucky, even if I can’t be there.

Came back downstairs eventually after having an emotional moment alone to grieve the life I thought I would have by now. Instead I’m back at the bar, talking to old men, listening to their life stories instead of living my own. Who’s on deck next?

Oh, this one is good. I met an Irish gangster last night. Like, a real one. Like, he’s wanted in Ireland and on the run in Thailand for IRA-related activities like blowing shit up. For real! He showed me his google results. There are many articles about him. The first one that pops up is about him dating a Thai pop star. Personally, I think that’s way more fun than the rocket launchers, but that’s just me.

He was very, very handsome, but obviously he had a secret wife he revealed much later in the conversation. Obviously. They always reveal a secret wife or girlfriend after you’re already invested in their bullshit. So annoying. Anyway, this is the second time I’ve seen him there. He said he noticed how observant I was of my surroundings. Well, I have to be when I’m in dive bars associating with pimps and gangsters and sex workers. It is what it is.

I told him my story from Dubai and he was like, “That was definitely a pimp. Those were sex workers. You’re lucky you got away.” Oh, great, and you would know because you’re a wanted gangster on the run from the law? Wonderful. I love my life choices right now.

So this time, I did not black out. In fact I came home pretty early after that and just sat in my apartment alone feeling grateful to be there. These adventures are getting less fun, you know? It all feels very self-destructive.

I guess writing is self-destructive. It’s not like this was my idea. My dad was always pushing me to be a writer. Always saying that, but he never read my work, or really supported me in a meaningful way. He just didn’t want me to work at all, so he basically just paid for me to stay home and “write.” Writing basically just turned into a cycle of bad choices down at the bar for the sake of “story content,” which no one actually likes or reads. And now, after all of this, there is still no real book that has manifested in a meaningful way, and I am just sitting on a pile of failures chatting casually with pimps and gangsters and sex workers in random bars in Asia like it’s no biggie.

Love this for me.

This is funny, I thought I would be employed. I thought I would be working. I thought I would like my job and my life. But I failed at it and now I’m just sitting here in Thailand feeling clueless. Like, yeah, sure, the Peace Corps will totally take someone like me. Totally. I’m totally mentally stable enough to go to West Africa, where I will be hanging out with *checks notes* pimps, gangsters, and sex workers.

Makes sense to me.

We’ll see. Every day I look at the news and I’m just like, “Fuck this bullshit.” I’m tired of watching them destroy everything. WTF! I just sit here feeling annoyed because it’s people my age that will have to pick up the pieces after this toddler’s tantrum destroys everything in the room.

So depressing to watch. Why am I getting involved in all of this? I don’t know. Because I’m feeling called to service. Maybe I’m just delusional. Either way, I’m confident, so I’m gonna attempt this grand swan dive again, even if I belly flop.

Honestly, this probably won’t work out, so I’m not gonna invest my hopes and dreams in it. I’m just gonna do the interview and application for practice and let it go and maybe I’ll hear back in 6 months with an offer. Or they will get gutted tomorrow. Or they won’t get gutted but I will be rejected. Who knows? Either way, I’m gonna get it out of the way.

Then maybe I’ll feel like applying for more jobs instead of just staring at the screen feeling overwhelmed and helpless. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. I just want to do something besides sit here and stare at a screen all day.

Well, I’m gonna go stare at a screen some more now. Feeling kinda depressed right now. Just hoping for a real, meaningful change to take place. Somehow.