Tuesday, December 8, 2009
The Final Entry
There is sand in my notebook, and I’m starting to think my transition back to “reality” is perhaps more of a transition to unreality. I came back to America happy to eat Taco Bell and sleep in a familiar place. I smiled at the sight of free toilet paper in public restrooms and was thankful for the lack of ever present insects. I stood tall as I entered doorways and took comfort in the company of fellow English speakers. But I have now found a sense of emptiness within all these conveniences. In the past nine weeks, I had no life altering realizations. I didn’t see the light or get a tattoo (though I almost did) or find some new calling. I didn’t “find myself” or change the world. If anything, I found my current (and always held) world view to be quite on point. But again, not in any surprising sort of way. I faced fears of water, of insects, of heights, animals, allergies, germs, children and various forms of transportation. And lived to tell about it with all my limbs still in tact. But that wasn’t the highlight for me. At some point I found myself sitting barefoot by a fire in a bamboo bar, sheltered from the rain and overlooking a river. And I felt good. There ended up being little writing in this blog. I didn’t have the overwhelming need to record and release. And maybe that is why I felt reality never had to be forced during those nine weeks. But now I am back in this world, finishing out this log of my epic South East Asia adventure. I am content with having my words finally attached to my name. Till the next mish… Shelley
The Philippines
I will keep it simple and to the point. The beaches are gorgeous. But for reasons better left to disclosure in private conversation, I will never return to that god-forsaken country ever again.
Cambodia
I left my 400 baht/night room at 730 am. Took a taxi to Mochit station and caught the 830 bus to Aranya Prathet. Four and a half hours later, I was in a tuk-tuk headed for the border and trying my best to avoid all the well-known scams. Got stuck behind all the Khao San Road buses at immigration, so I chilled to the tunes of American pop music being blasted at the border. Wandered through the no man’s land between Thailand and Cambodia and found an unofficial looking official to get my visa for an extra 100 baht. Then to Cambodian immigration, where I received multiple smirks at the sight of my ridiculous new American passport. While waiting in line, I picked up a Brazilian boy to share the taxi ride to Siem Reap. A bus to the transport center, a taxi to the edge of town and another tuk-tuk to the hotel and I was finally enjoying a refreshing beverage at 630pm.
I had met a lovely kiwi boy in Pai two weeks earlier. He shared my love of zombies, first person shooters and vegetarianism, and he reminded me of something I had lost a long time ago. He taught me about perma-culture and meditative breathing, and I invited him for a jaunt in Cambodia. He accepted, and we were soon drinking fifty cent beers and scaling ancient ruins. I enjoyed the best baguette of my life in Cambodia. But soon had to bid adieu to both the country and my lovely NZ boy. Back to Bangkok and then off to Manila.
I had met a lovely kiwi boy in Pai two weeks earlier. He shared my love of zombies, first person shooters and vegetarianism, and he reminded me of something I had lost a long time ago. He taught me about perma-culture and meditative breathing, and I invited him for a jaunt in Cambodia. He accepted, and we were soon drinking fifty cent beers and scaling ancient ruins. I enjoyed the best baguette of my life in Cambodia. But soon had to bid adieu to both the country and my lovely NZ boy. Back to Bangkok and then off to Manila.
My First Time – Philippines Edition
• Riding in a sidecar (AKA a tricycle)
• Getting a pedicure from a lady who comes to you
• Tripping out on malaria meds
• Drinking San Miguel (*the only beer that fosters true Filipino friendships*)
• Riding a carnival rollercoaster that makes the Cyclone look safe
• Snorkeling
• Taking a (very rusty) tractor to the beach (and being grateful for my tetanus shot)
• Walking into a bar staffed entirely be Filipino midgets
• Riding in a jeepney
• Witnessing various animal slaughters
• Eating out of a 7-11 for three weeks
• Island hopping on a banca
• Purposefully having flesh eating fish digest my skin
• Getting a pedicure from a lady who comes to you
• Tripping out on malaria meds
• Drinking San Miguel (*the only beer that fosters true Filipino friendships*)
• Riding a carnival rollercoaster that makes the Cyclone look safe
• Snorkeling
• Taking a (very rusty) tractor to the beach (and being grateful for my tetanus shot)
• Walking into a bar staffed entirely be Filipino midgets
• Riding in a jeepney
• Witnessing various animal slaughters
• Eating out of a 7-11 for three weeks
• Island hopping on a banca
• Purposefully having flesh eating fish digest my skin
My First Time – Cambodia Edition
• Getting a salt scrub (which, btw, was rather messy, invasive and a bit
painful)
• Eating Khmer food
• Drinking Angkor beer (at $.50 a pop)
• Doing something not quite appropriate for disclosure on a public forum
• Scaling the ruins of Angkor Wat
• Bribing a government official (or being extorted, however you want to look
at it)
• Almost getting mugged (and I don’t mean in a mean muggin’ gangsta sort of
way, but rather, in a band of hoodlums sort of way)
• Attempting to decipher Celsius readings (and accidentally setting my room
temperature to 30 deg C)
• Happy pizza (yes, happy pizza… dude)
• Playing foosball
painful)
• Eating Khmer food
• Drinking Angkor beer (at $.50 a pop)
• Doing something not quite appropriate for disclosure on a public forum
• Scaling the ruins of Angkor Wat
• Bribing a government official (or being extorted, however you want to look
at it)
• Almost getting mugged (and I don’t mean in a mean muggin’ gangsta sort of
way, but rather, in a band of hoodlums sort of way)
• Attempting to decipher Celsius readings (and accidentally setting my room
temperature to 30 deg C)
• Happy pizza (yes, happy pizza… dude)
• Playing foosball
My First Time – Thailand Edition
• Ziplining through the jungle
• Riding in a tuk-tuk
• Taking a shower with a lizard
• Eating a pomelo
• Drinking a bucket of booze
• Living with roommates (of the female variety)
• Visiting a temple (and then many, many subsequent temples)
• Getting a Thai massage (every week)
• Teaching English
• Driving a motorbike
• Passing an elephant on the highway while driving a motorbike
• Chillin’ with children (ages 2-12)
• Grantwriting
• Eating dragonfruit
• Wearing fisherman’s pants
• Taking a river ferry
• Taking an 18 hour train ride
• Drinking sangsom, a lot of sangsom
• Eating a popsicle that turns into jelly
• Looking at a hotel room before booking it
• Seeing (and smelling) a deep-friend insects food cart
• Having weekly “family” dinner
• Riding in a songteau
• Riding in a songteau with twenty other people
• Hitting my head on something every single day
• Shopping at a night bazaar
• Attempting to master the fine art of squat toilets
• Being mistaken for a lady boy (well, that’s the first that I know of)
• Showering over a toilet
• Riding in a tuk-tuk
• Taking a shower with a lizard
• Eating a pomelo
• Drinking a bucket of booze
• Living with roommates (of the female variety)
• Visiting a temple (and then many, many subsequent temples)
• Getting a Thai massage (every week)
• Teaching English
• Driving a motorbike
• Passing an elephant on the highway while driving a motorbike
• Chillin’ with children (ages 2-12)
• Grantwriting
• Eating dragonfruit
• Wearing fisherman’s pants
• Taking a river ferry
• Taking an 18 hour train ride
• Drinking sangsom, a lot of sangsom
• Eating a popsicle that turns into jelly
• Looking at a hotel room before booking it
• Seeing (and smelling) a deep-friend insects food cart
• Having weekly “family” dinner
• Riding in a songteau
• Riding in a songteau with twenty other people
• Hitting my head on something every single day
• Shopping at a night bazaar
• Attempting to master the fine art of squat toilets
• Being mistaken for a lady boy (well, that’s the first that I know of)
• Showering over a toilet
Friday, November 27, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
"Napoleon"
they told you your music
could reach millions
that the choice was up to you
you told me they always
pay for lunch
and they believe in what i do
and i wonder
if you miss your old friends
once you've proven what you're worth
yeah i wonder
when you're a big star
will you miss the earth
and i know you would always want more
i know you would never be done
'cuz everyone is a fucking napoleon
yeah everyone is a fucking napoleon
and the next time
that i saw you
you were larger than life
you came and you conquered
you were doing alright
you had an army
of suits behind you
and all you had to be was willing
and i said i still
make a pretty good living
you must make a killing
a killing
and i hope that you are happy
i hope at least you are having fun
'cuz but everyone is a fucking napoleon
yeah everyone is a fucking napoleon
now you think, so that is
the way it's gonna be
that's what this is all about
i think that that is
the way it always was
you chose not to notice until now
yeah now that there's a problem
you call me up to confide
and you go on for over an hour
'bout each one that took you for a ride
and i guess that you dialed my number
'cuz you thought for sure that i'd agree
i said baby, you know i still love you
but how dare you complain to me
everyone is a fucking napoleon
yeah everyone is a fucking napoleon
they told you your music
could reach millions
that the choice was up to you
you told me they always
pay for lunch
and they believe in what i do
and i wonder
if you miss your old friends
once you've proven what you're worth
yeah i wonder
when you're a big star
will you miss the earth
and i know you would always want more
i know you would never be done
'cuz everyone is a fucking napoleon
yeah everyone is a fucking napoleon
and the next time
that i saw you
you were larger than life
you came and you conquered
you were doing alright
you had an army
of suits behind you
and all you had to be was willing
and i said i still
make a pretty good living
you must make a killing
a killing
and i hope that you are happy
i hope at least you are having fun
'cuz but everyone is a fucking napoleon
yeah everyone is a fucking napoleon
now you think, so that is
the way it's gonna be
that's what this is all about
i think that that is
the way it always was
you chose not to notice until now
yeah now that there's a problem
you call me up to confide
and you go on for over an hour
'bout each one that took you for a ride
and i guess that you dialed my number
'cuz you thought for sure that i'd agree
i said baby, you know i still love you
but how dare you complain to me
everyone is a fucking napoleon
yeah everyone is a fucking napoleon
"Hour Follows Hour"
hour follows hour
like water follows water
everything is governed by the rule
of one thing leads to another
you can't really place blame
cuz blame is much to messy
some was bound to get on you
while you were tryin to put it on me
and don't fool yourself
into thinking things are simple
nobody's lying still the stories don't line up
why do you try to hold on
to what you'll never get a hold on
you wouldn't try to put the ocean
in a paper cup
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know thers something
that needs improvment
and you know that every time i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide
what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most we can do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most we can do
is just to see eachother through it
hour follows hour like water in a river
and from one to the next
we don't know what each hour will deliver
we just call it like we see it
call it out loud as we can
and then afterwards we call it all water over the dam
maybe the moral higher ground
ain't as high as it seems
maybe we are both good people
done some bad things
i just hope it was okay
i know it wasn't perfect
i hope in the end we can laugh
and say it was all worth it
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know something
that needs improvement
and you know that everytime i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most that we can do
is just to see eachother through it
we make our own gravity to give weight to things
then things fall and they break and gravity sings
we can only hold so much is what i figure
try and keep our eye on the big picture
picture keeps getting bigger
and too much is how i love you
but too well is how i know you
and i've got nothing to prove this time
just something to show you
i guess i just wanted you to see
that it was all worth it to me
hour follows hour
like water follows water
everything is governed by the rule
of one thing leads to another
you can't really place blame
cuz blame is much to messy
some was bound to get on you
while you were tryin to put it on me
and don't fool yourself
into thinking things are simple
nobody's lying still the stories don't line up
why do you try to hold on
to what you'll never get a hold on
you wouldn't try to put the ocean
in a paper cup
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know thers something
that needs improvment
and you know that every time i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide
what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most we can do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most we can do
is just to see eachother through it
hour follows hour like water in a river
and from one to the next
we don't know what each hour will deliver
we just call it like we see it
call it out loud as we can
and then afterwards we call it all water over the dam
maybe the moral higher ground
ain't as high as it seems
maybe we are both good people
done some bad things
i just hope it was okay
i know it wasn't perfect
i hope in the end we can laugh
and say it was all worth it
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know something
that needs improvement
and you know that everytime i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most that we can do
is just to see eachother through it
we make our own gravity to give weight to things
then things fall and they break and gravity sings
we can only hold so much is what i figure
try and keep our eye on the big picture
picture keeps getting bigger
and too much is how i love you
but too well is how i know you
and i've got nothing to prove this time
just something to show you
i guess i just wanted you to see
that it was all worth it to me
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Lost all my writing one drunken night in Pai. A result of seeing the inside of "the bucket" no doubt. So I will try to summarize a month's worth of blog posts into one very long, but no so poetic, account of my time in Thailand.
I have been volunteering with an organization called Wildflower Home, a home for single mothers about half an hour outside of Chiang Mai. I initially spent my mornings in a nursery with about ten two year olds, but have recently been entertaining 8-10 yr olds with my lack of soccer playing, paper airplane building and kite flying skills. Not to mention my inability to ride a bicycle, thought I recently made an attempt only to crash into a bush and emerge quite muddy. During the afternoon I teach English to three women and one man, all from different countries and with varying levels of English. In the late afternoon I am in the office. I have written two grant proposals and a letter of inquiry and am now researching additional funding sources for Wildflower Home. To learn more about Wildflower Home, check out their website here.
As far as the volunteer house goes, I live with six other girls, mostly around my age. Two Americans, two Germans, an Irish girl and a Scottish girl, none of whom are the smoking and drinking type, but all are nice nonetheless. Well, except for one who is slowly trying to kill me. But that's another story. I have hippos on my blanket, which is but a small comfort for my Humphrey missing heart. And an abundance of lizards in the house constantly sends me into Fear and Loathing flashbacks. My program provides me with two Thai meals per day. But as much as I love my rice cooker, I could really go for a NY bagel, or a pizza, or just some real cheese for that matter. Food is generally good though. And I love getting a huge plate of pad thai for 25 baht (about $.75).
Bars are nice here. Did everything from partying at a ritzy after hours nightclub to hanging out with some ladies of the night in the red light district. Went to Pai last weekend and stayed up till 5 am drinking with travelers from around the world. Drank too much Samsom and Gilbey's and decided to stick to my Singha in the future.
So far I have ziplined through the jungle, gotten lost while driving a motorbike, visited waterfalls and hotsprings and received my fortune from a temple. For my last weekend in Chiang Mai, I hope to have brunch with tigers, a massage at the women's prison and a meditation lesson from some monks. Then I'm off to Bangkok on Monday. After the emotionally devastating realization that I have absolutely nothing to go back to, I decided to extend my trip here. After Bankok, I will be headed to Cambodia. And then on to the Philippines as planned and possibly a side trip to Hong Kong.
I won't attempt to describe my emotional well being in this post, but suffice it to say that my time here has been challenging, rewarding, exciting and heart breaking. I will try not to lose all my writing in the future. But no promises.
Shoutouts
Ryan: I'm still waiting for my photographic scavenger hunt. Also, what kind of bike am I riding in those pics. And what's up with Vegas in December?
Miguel: I played MASH with an 11 year old girl the other day. And just so you know, we'll be married and living in a house with four kids, a pet squirrel and a BMW.
Everyone: if you'd like a postcard from Thailand, send me your address ASAP. And if you have any specific requests for gifts, let me know that too.
I have been volunteering with an organization called Wildflower Home, a home for single mothers about half an hour outside of Chiang Mai. I initially spent my mornings in a nursery with about ten two year olds, but have recently been entertaining 8-10 yr olds with my lack of soccer playing, paper airplane building and kite flying skills. Not to mention my inability to ride a bicycle, thought I recently made an attempt only to crash into a bush and emerge quite muddy. During the afternoon I teach English to three women and one man, all from different countries and with varying levels of English. In the late afternoon I am in the office. I have written two grant proposals and a letter of inquiry and am now researching additional funding sources for Wildflower Home. To learn more about Wildflower Home, check out their website here.
As far as the volunteer house goes, I live with six other girls, mostly around my age. Two Americans, two Germans, an Irish girl and a Scottish girl, none of whom are the smoking and drinking type, but all are nice nonetheless. Well, except for one who is slowly trying to kill me. But that's another story. I have hippos on my blanket, which is but a small comfort for my Humphrey missing heart. And an abundance of lizards in the house constantly sends me into Fear and Loathing flashbacks. My program provides me with two Thai meals per day. But as much as I love my rice cooker, I could really go for a NY bagel, or a pizza, or just some real cheese for that matter. Food is generally good though. And I love getting a huge plate of pad thai for 25 baht (about $.75).
Bars are nice here. Did everything from partying at a ritzy after hours nightclub to hanging out with some ladies of the night in the red light district. Went to Pai last weekend and stayed up till 5 am drinking with travelers from around the world. Drank too much Samsom and Gilbey's and decided to stick to my Singha in the future.
So far I have ziplined through the jungle, gotten lost while driving a motorbike, visited waterfalls and hotsprings and received my fortune from a temple. For my last weekend in Chiang Mai, I hope to have brunch with tigers, a massage at the women's prison and a meditation lesson from some monks. Then I'm off to Bangkok on Monday. After the emotionally devastating realization that I have absolutely nothing to go back to, I decided to extend my trip here. After Bankok, I will be headed to Cambodia. And then on to the Philippines as planned and possibly a side trip to Hong Kong.
I won't attempt to describe my emotional well being in this post, but suffice it to say that my time here has been challenging, rewarding, exciting and heart breaking. I will try not to lose all my writing in the future. But no promises.
Shoutouts
Ryan: I'm still waiting for my photographic scavenger hunt. Also, what kind of bike am I riding in those pics. And what's up with Vegas in December?
Miguel: I played MASH with an 11 year old girl the other day. And just so you know, we'll be married and living in a house with four kids, a pet squirrel and a BMW.
Everyone: if you'd like a postcard from Thailand, send me your address ASAP. And if you have any specific requests for gifts, let me know that too.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Backdated for your convenience - October 22, 2009
I listened to drum circles and contemplated the meaning of life. I wrote in a hand-made journal entitled "My journey to happiness." I got lost in my own head. And then lost in the minds of others. I was fifteen and things were not so different from what they are now. I thrive in the loneliness of anonymity. Perhaps too easily adopting the personality traits of those around me. I enjoy the fantastical, the unreal, the unattainable, because at least it is not mediocrity. But my search for the divine has led me through too many Siddartha-esque adventures--and maybe some Kafka-esque ones too. I question the concept of identity. As a self proclaimed American of color teaching English to Vietnamese, Laotian and Burmese refugees in Thailand, I can only see irony in the situation. The only identity trait I have consistently held has be one of the other. I ebb back and forth between knowing I will never belong and thinking that maybe, somehow, I can make it all different. I tried so hard because I thought I could make it better. But I'm starting to believe Sartre's facticity encompasses more than I originally thought. If I wanted to be dramatic, I'd say I left my heart on a third floor parking garage somewhere in the lower east side. But I don't think it is that easy. I'm just tired of the struggle.
Friday, October 23, 2009
The infamous bucket o' booze.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
So an elephant walks into a bar...
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
Days 3 and 4
The rains had derailed my temple touring plans. So I found myself at Jim Thompson's house thoroughly unimpressed. Though I finally learned why that raised step in between doorways exists. And I'm stubbing my toes at a slightly less frequency. Went to a giant seven story mall and played House of the Dead I, III, and IV back to back. Epic. Took a nap before going out for the night. Enjoyed a beer while eavesdropping on some Swiss boys debating the merits of whether I was a Thai lady boy. Met a Pole who had fallen in love with a Thai girl seven years earlier and never left. But it didn't work out so well for him.
Today I awoke in a mood of sorts. Perhaps it was my mother ringing me at 630am. Perhaps just anxiety over leaving to Chiang Mai tonight. I am trying to keep an open mind about everything. Trying not to perpetuate the now standardized Shelley curse. Trying not to believe in the inevitability of... anything. But I have five hours to kill. Maybe another Thai massage. Maybe some reading. Definitely some more coffee and cigarettes.
Bee tee dubs, I hate bartering.
Today I awoke in a mood of sorts. Perhaps it was my mother ringing me at 630am. Perhaps just anxiety over leaving to Chiang Mai tonight. I am trying to keep an open mind about everything. Trying not to perpetuate the now standardized Shelley curse. Trying not to believe in the inevitability of... anything. But I have five hours to kill. Maybe another Thai massage. Maybe some reading. Definitely some more coffee and cigarettes.
Bee tee dubs, I hate bartering.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Day 1
Woke up at my mother's co-worker's mother's home after four hours sleep. Shed a quick tear over a recent heartbreak, but vowed not to do it again. Had plastic wrapped Minnie Mouse as my witness. Went downstairs to a table full of food. Ate something orange and proceeded to take a fake bath. Don't ask. Taxi to the hotel. Blew my load on a Thai telephone. Shook my escort and finally acquired a much needed meal of coffee and cigarettes.
But enough with the logging. The twenty hour flight was a miserable combination of a peanut and beer diet combined with no sleep and a bit of deep vein thrombosis. The previous night's anxiety only subsided after I randomly met my friend Elan on Khao San Rd. An evening with Israelis entailed breakfast for dinner, two night bazaars, a slightly frightening tuk tuk ride and watching a wonderful rendition of Smells Like Teen Spirit performed by a lovely band of Thai boys. Oh, and some Mai Tais, too. All in all (whatever that introductory clause means), it was a good first day.
This morning I walked to the Grand Palace. Got my picture taken with a tourist who thought I was famous. I thought it better not to argue in front of the Emerald Buddha. Received my first Thai massage when I got back to the hotel. More than a bit nerve wracking due to the gender of my masseur. Vowed to avoid male masseuses in the future. Though I admit, he surely stretched me in ways, well... Discovered that knees in ones ass cheeks actually feels good. But thumbs in your ears, not so much. Still not a fan of people touching me.
I am currently sitting in an internet cafe at four in the morning. Sleep schedule has been all sorts of wacky. It is raining now, but I like the weather. It's nice to finally be warm.
But enough with the logging. The twenty hour flight was a miserable combination of a peanut and beer diet combined with no sleep and a bit of deep vein thrombosis. The previous night's anxiety only subsided after I randomly met my friend Elan on Khao San Rd. An evening with Israelis entailed breakfast for dinner, two night bazaars, a slightly frightening tuk tuk ride and watching a wonderful rendition of Smells Like Teen Spirit performed by a lovely band of Thai boys. Oh, and some Mai Tais, too. All in all (whatever that introductory clause means), it was a good first day.
This morning I walked to the Grand Palace. Got my picture taken with a tourist who thought I was famous. I thought it better not to argue in front of the Emerald Buddha. Received my first Thai massage when I got back to the hotel. More than a bit nerve wracking due to the gender of my masseur. Vowed to avoid male masseuses in the future. Though I admit, he surely stretched me in ways, well... Discovered that knees in ones ass cheeks actually feels good. But thumbs in your ears, not so much. Still not a fan of people touching me.
I am currently sitting in an internet cafe at four in the morning. Sleep schedule has been all sorts of wacky. It is raining now, but I like the weather. It's nice to finally be warm.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
The night before...
I'm scared. Thinking about matters of the heart. Hoping I don't get myself killed. Or worse. Mostly the worse part. I have managed to get myself into some, well, interesting situations. Most of them bad. But people like to say I am all the more stronger for it. Five days in Portland have revealed an unfortunate pattern. I have developed a new theory about introducing storylines into the fabric of one's life. Perhaps only piggybacking on my idea that nothing can be changed. Like ignorance of something so apparent, coming to reign over you after that final realization. Like safe bets that cost you everything. Again, I am scared. I take risks with a straight face. My body language indicates a cool, calm, collected exterior of perseverence, or so I have been told. But I am not. This trip means too much to me, with tentacles reaching into places, well, I could make a joke there. My lungs hurt, my mind hurts, my heart hurts most of all; but my liver is still in the running. I so desparately need things to be different. I need this to mean something. I need the struggle to have been worth it. This is for me. The test of my own ability. Not by any one else's standards. Not to prove you are wrong or that I am capable. But that there is a reason for being the wretched of the earth.
Monday, September 21, 2009
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