Thursday morning. At the coffee stand. Love it.

I’m in a much better mood after last night. I couldn’t stop laughing all night long about those books in Old Man Wiley’s bag. Hilarious. Yeah, sure, the British Guy may have been a huge jerk, but at least his character makes for hilarious content. That’s all I know how to do with men. Sex or Content. There is no in-between.

I haven’t enjoyed a character like this since Andrew. It’s fun. It makes me laugh. Always something new and different every day. Refreshing. Just what I needed after a very long dry spell.

The thought crossed my mind that it might be Andrew in disguise again, but I don’t think so. These cats are very different, that’s for sure. Anyway, I thought I mostly got Andrew out of my system in Bali. I don’t think I will ever be able to really explain what happened there with him. I can only account for myself and my documentation on the events that transpired. Something weird was definitely going on with that guy. What it was we will never really know.

I guess at this point I just look at these Muse-like entities as like… my little pets to play with? I guess that’s how you might say it? The way I see it, these men didn’t care when they were playing with me, so why would I care how they feel about me playing with them?

I guess that’s just my approach to life in general at this point. Anyway, it’s not like British Guy cares. He’s not reading this shit! Bangkok is not like Verm. People come and go, they appear and disappear, no one gets caught up in that small town drama shit. It’s easy to just sit in one place for a time and observe all the different types of characters coming in and out.

What am I doing with my life? I don’t know. Staring at a blank page trying to write something. I like The Publisher, but he’s not very good at holding me accountable. He just says inspiring shit and helps me stay positive. Unfortunately, he is not there checking my daily page count, which continues to be a problem for me.

Four and a half months I’ve been out here in SEA. In two weeks, I am turning 37 years old. Wild. Crazy. Then it will be 5 months down, 7 months to go. I planned to stay abroad for at least one year and figure it all out on my own. I’m not ready to give up yet.

Now just sifting through endless job ads, feeling totally overwhelmed, unsure of my next move. I guess I could always go teach yoga and bartend on an island. Why not, right?

Sounds ideal, except for the part where it pays pennies on the dollar and probably isn’t even legal. I guess I’m just not trying to end up in a Cambodian prison for violating the terms of my tourism visa, lol. That doesn’t sound like fun, but I guess it would make good content for the blog? Someone with a law degree better be on call to bail me out if I do it, though…

For now, I am stuck sitting here, watching the streets of Bangkok, unsure of what I’m doing or where I’m going.

What am I doing?

What am I doing?

What am I doing?