Into thin air
Arriving back in Bangkok on Saturday was like coming home. This place really does feel like home now. Comfortable, friendly and familiar.
I had an amazing time, although at times I was extremely uncomfortable and heart sore.
Beauty always does that to me.
Mountains usually bring out a reverential melancholy in me, and this time was no different.
For laziness sake, and also an attempt to convey a more accurate picture of the inside of my head, I'll copy a few extracts from the quasi-journal I kept over the course of the month.
By no means complete, this is only a glimpse into the very personal thoughts I kept.
Day 4
Namche Bazaar
To my suprise, all I can think about is her. I'm not trying to, but each brisk step churns out another memory.
I dreamed of her last night. It confused and disoriented me.
The chances of me being deep in the Himilayas if I was still with her are remote at best. The irony of it is that its the type of trekking she would have loved to do.
Day 5
Khumjung
The stillness bears heavy on me tonight. The air is desperately thin up here, an alien atmosphere compared to the rich air we wallow in at home. Each breath hard fought, and each step hard won.
I still have no clarity of thought, but the beauty of this place is changing something in me. There is no denying the beauty of this village, tucked high in the mountains. Neatly arranged fields enclosed by stone walls and surrounded by brightly coloured houses, are all connected by a warren of tiny paths and walkways, along which the local children run and play, their bright red cheeks glowing.
The harsh surroundings are starkly contrasted by their warm smiles and crisp laughter.
I wanted to run with them, and explore the village and mountains but my short sharp breaths and aching heart thumping in my chest reminded me I don't belong up here. I'm still not sure where I belong, or even if that matters, but it does give me joy to see other people belonging somewhere.
Day 8
Machermo
It occurred to me that I'm attracting the type of women I do because of the aspect of my personality that I portray when I meet them.
The girls I've really loved in my life have been attracted to a different side of me. One that I've not openly displayed for a long time. In part I sense this to be a reaction to what I perceive most women in Thailand want; A man who likes to have fun, is not too serious, and who pays her a lot of attention.
And to a degree, I do fit the bill.
But there is a much stronger facet to my personality that is perhaps less attractive to these girls, which ultimitely makes them unattactive to me.
But its not all that bad. I'm glad to have explored this lighter side of my psyche, even if the darker side is where my strengths lie. I need balance.
Ironically I had to sacrifice what needed that balance in order to get it.
Day 9
Gokyo
The sun is gliding across the icy blue waters in defiance of the snowy peaks and resting warmly on my weary body.
People are venturing out to the lake but still not shedding any layers.
Here I write, layed out on a bench golden in the delicious sun, pondering love and ultruism.
"The Himilayas will change you" reads the park entry.
I'm not sure about changing, but its definitely reminding me.
Embers of memories of dreams are glowing faintly, warmed by my proximity to the sky.
I like whats been happening to me these last two years. I like that I know a little more aabout what I like aand don't like.
This unfurling can be uncomfortable sometimes. Mostly when I'm reminded of what I've lost, or when I realise that I'm not really found.
The sun is preparing to slide behind the mountains and wisps of cloud are joining forces in anticipation of the coming dark.
Tomorrow we head up Gokyo Ri to a height of 5360 Metres above sea level. My body is tired, and I'm growing tired of this nomadic life in this freezing sherpa kingdom. I'm doing it because I know how much I'll value it once I've done it.
My bed is still cold, but I know that it warms up after a couple minutes of me lying in it.
I'm think I'm ok with that.
Day 15
Darjeeling
The cold is a wall of damp grey, sitting heavuly on this hill. I'm in bed at 5 o'clock with my socks pulled over my long underwear, just like mom used to show me how.
Again I can't shake this heaviness from my chest. Its silly and I know it is.
I'm too sensitive.
Too much of a crybaby.
But I just can't shake it.
in time
memories fade
senses numb
one forgets
how it feels
to have loved completely.
Why does the rain affect me so? I almost wish arthritis and a warm heart on myself, rather than this drenching sorrow. Yesterday on the plane, as we broke through the clouds, my heart leapt to see the golden wisps dancing in the cerulean evening.
My heart, the ever accurate weather indicator.
When I'm this lonely I find the tendrils in my brain reaching out for any warmth, hastily making short sighted plans to meet J again, to hold P's hand, to sleep over at A's.
I know these people bring me none of what I really want, but is it so bad to take the inferior as a soothing balm every now and again?
Why am I so desperate?
Soft black roses
lay on her shoulder
skin on tragedy
hand in hand
when skin folds
around your azure eyes
teares fall slower
than before
winter falls again
on your red tree
walking laps around
i still can't find you.
***All photos are courtesy of Donovan Richards. My photos are undeveloped.***
I had an amazing time, although at times I was extremely uncomfortable and heart sore.
Beauty always does that to me.
Mountains usually bring out a reverential melancholy in me, and this time was no different.
For laziness sake, and also an attempt to convey a more accurate picture of the inside of my head, I'll copy a few extracts from the quasi-journal I kept over the course of the month.
By no means complete, this is only a glimpse into the very personal thoughts I kept.
Day 4
Namche Bazaar
To my suprise, all I can think about is her. I'm not trying to, but each brisk step churns out another memory.
I dreamed of her last night. It confused and disoriented me. The chances of me being deep in the Himilayas if I was still with her are remote at best. The irony of it is that its the type of trekking she would have loved to do.
Day 5
Khumjung
The stillness bears heavy on me tonight. The air is desperately thin up here, an alien atmosphere compared to the rich air we wallow in at home. Each breath hard fought, and each step hard won.
I still have no clarity of thought, but the beauty of this place is changing something in me. There is no denying the beauty of this village, tucked high in the mountains. Neatly arranged fields enclosed by stone walls and surrounded by brightly coloured houses, are all connected by a warren of tiny paths and walkways, along which the local children run and play, their bright red cheeks glowing.
The harsh surroundings are starkly contrasted by their warm smiles and crisp laughter.
I wanted to run with them, and explore the village and mountains but my short sharp breaths and aching heart thumping in my chest reminded me I don't belong up here. I'm still not sure where I belong, or even if that matters, but it does give me joy to see other people belonging somewhere.
Day 8
Machermo
It occurred to me that I'm attracting the type of women I do because of the aspect of my personality that I portray when I meet them.
The girls I've really loved in my life have been attracted to a different side of me. One that I've not openly displayed for a long time. In part I sense this to be a reaction to what I perceive most women in Thailand want; A man who likes to have fun, is not too serious, and who pays her a lot of attention.
And to a degree, I do fit the bill.
But there is a much stronger facet to my personality that is perhaps less attractive to these girls, which ultimitely makes them unattactive to me.
But its not all that bad. I'm glad to have explored this lighter side of my psyche, even if the darker side is where my strengths lie. I need balance.
Ironically I had to sacrifice what needed that balance in order to get it.
Day 9
Gokyo
The sun is gliding across the icy blue waters in defiance of the snowy peaks and resting warmly on my weary body. People are venturing out to the lake but still not shedding any layers.
Here I write, layed out on a bench golden in the delicious sun, pondering love and ultruism.
"The Himilayas will change you" reads the park entry.
I'm not sure about changing, but its definitely reminding me.
Embers of memories of dreams are glowing faintly, warmed by my proximity to the sky.
I like whats been happening to me these last two years. I like that I know a little more aabout what I like aand don't like.
This unfurling can be uncomfortable sometimes. Mostly when I'm reminded of what I've lost, or when I realise that I'm not really found.
The sun is preparing to slide behind the mountains and wisps of cloud are joining forces in anticipation of the coming dark.Tomorrow we head up Gokyo Ri to a height of 5360 Metres above sea level. My body is tired, and I'm growing tired of this nomadic life in this freezing sherpa kingdom. I'm doing it because I know how much I'll value it once I've done it.
My bed is still cold, but I know that it warms up after a couple minutes of me lying in it.
I'm think I'm ok with that.
Day 15
Darjeeling
The cold is a wall of damp grey, sitting heavuly on this hill. I'm in bed at 5 o'clock with my socks pulled over my long underwear, just like mom used to show me how.
Again I can't shake this heaviness from my chest. Its silly and I know it is.
I'm too sensitive.
Too much of a crybaby.
But I just can't shake it.
in time
memories fade
senses numb
one forgets
how it feels
to have loved completely.
Why does the rain affect me so? I almost wish arthritis and a warm heart on myself, rather than this drenching sorrow. Yesterday on the plane, as we broke through the clouds, my heart leapt to see the golden wisps dancing in the cerulean evening.
My heart, the ever accurate weather indicator.
When I'm this lonely I find the tendrils in my brain reaching out for any warmth, hastily making short sighted plans to meet J again, to hold P's hand, to sleep over at A's.
I know these people bring me none of what I really want, but is it so bad to take the inferior as a soothing balm every now and again?
Why am I so desperate?
Soft black roses
lay on her shoulder
skin on tragedy
hand in hand
when skin folds
around your azure eyes
teares fall slower
than before
winter falls again
on your red tree
walking laps around
i still can't find you.
***All photos are courtesy of Donovan Richards. My photos are undeveloped.***
posted by Graeme at 8:34 pm
1 Comments:
I guess I really shouldn't be here...truth is, i visit here regularly. you've been in my thoughts, dreams, heart, mind constantly for three weeks running. i really am so so glad that you were able to visit these breathtaking places. i probably would have held you back. sorry for all.
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