Post-Christmas 2006

Three months since the booking of my flight to Chiang Mai, about 45 minutes prior to boarding, and I still can't shake off this weird feeling. A reluctance to leave. An inertia that's holding me back to familiar grounds. An unwillingness to return to a place that is actually no stranger to me. Yet every time I return to Chiang Mai, it feels like I'm there for the first time. Maybe the prospects of travelling more or less alone doesn't appeal to me as much as I thought it would. Perhaps the unfamiliar holds as much insecurity as it does allure.

Stranger in a strange land for a strange ass.

But here I am, anyway, awaiting my entry into yet another tale to tell in my personal life in a land I know, yet could not call my own. With trepidition, and a waft of unrelenting sleepiness in my head. It's 5 am in the morning, post-Christmas caroling, Japanese sake, and a whole bunch of wild thoughts running through my head while waiting for this trip to happen.

Here goes, for what it's worth.

"You May Check Out Anytime You Like, But You May Never Leave..."

If you ask me about this year, I feel like a passenger on a vehicle to which I have no control, on a course I do not ge t to dictate, and whose passengers I cannot regulate. My sole duty is to sit right there and watch people board and alight. Come and go. Some say hello, some stayed for a chat, some walk right past, some gone and never to be seen again, some went missing for a long time and returned suddenly, only to tell you they are going away, further than where they went the first time. The vehicle does't stop, but people get on and off as if a stop is not needed. The scenery outside the window changes ever so rapidly. Your pace doesn't matter. They just keep going.

Then there are those who got into the same carriage as me, watching the same scene side by side, and none of us could do a thing about it. We just watch and compare notes. Along the way, we learn to cherish each other's company instead of whining about how we are on the same boat. Who cares what boat that is, it's good enough to know there are passengers you can enjoy the ride with.

Screw it with those who get off. Goodbye. For those who just got on, welcome aboard. I'll continue the ride into the next year.

Merry Christmas!