16 stitches ( recorded on tape as a 'note to self', then written in classier form

Let the incriminating record show that I had a dodgy feeling about the island of Pha Nyang from the very beginning. It wasn't that I didn't trust it exactly, but rather, I didn't trust myself there, amongst it's many lenient temptations. Added to which I was, and still am going through some emotional shit, having with-drawl problems from not having a beautiful woman at my side anymore. I suspected that I would go a bit mental after Charlie left, but I was able to suppress a lot of that anguish with marijuana and Sam Cooke. Even in Bangkok, running around, drinking steadily with Jonny Lupa, I was able to keep my wits about me, and the writing flowed like healthy piss. But Bangkok has a flavor much like Toronto. One can only chew on it for so long, before severe restlessness takes hold. And after a week of taxi cabs across town/duckin' in and out of hotels and pools/ allergic rashes to shellfish/ some bad whiskey we were on our way to the island to celebrate the third Anniversary long weekend - dedicated to a fallen brother. We were in for it.

Now that “vacation” is over, I look back and feel a drastic change since I kissed Charlie goodbye for who-knows-how-long-if-ever-again. But it's so hard to balance good from bad at this point. I definitely got my yah-yah's out, in different ways. I knew that I wasn't going to chase tail, and I didn't. I told Charlie that too and she almost looked like she wanted to bet on it (I could use that money right now). Instead I went on a bit of a binge with Loop, got into some trouble, fell through a roof, paid some bribes and then shook some hands. There was also a trip to the hospital for stitches (6 for Jon, 10 for me), and a few hours spent in jail, with a mangy lookin' Thai dude who eventually fell asleep beside the toilet.

We got let out a little after 6AM and made it back to the beach for a fresh breakfast buffet. First dibs on everything. After that it was a straight sleep until noon. Then we rented motorbikes and cruised the day away. That night was the infamous Full Moon Party, from dusk 'till dawn and beyond. We made an off the cuff decision to hit it straight on with no booze or shrooms. It was tricky, but entertaining as a circus of international lunatics. Some good pictures were documented. Then it was back on the boat, and back to that slight resemblance of reality. Back to Chumphon, a day before school started, getting off the bus and walking down the street lookin' like Bebop and Rocksteady.

The experience has woken me up spiritually, and put me to sleep financially. If losing money was an addiction problem and saving money was sobriety than I just relapsed hard. Now I've gotta start workin' on the side to make up for it. And if I don't then I'm just lazy and don't deserve shit. The money is out there. And I know it. There's a goal ahead now. Things are gonna get legitimately busy. Workin' your ass off for yourself and nobody else busy. The kind of busy that doesn't make you tired and cranky at all. Because every hour is another step forward to where you wanna be.

I have no choice really. I gotta pull it all up. And I'm stoked about it.

Write it down, put it up and check it off.