Archive for December, 2008

confirmation of an affirmation

By On December 10, 2008 In life, travel With 2 Comments Permanent Link to confirmation of an affirmationPermalink

I have a story. A story that trumps all the other stories I have – and I have a lot. This story is not something I talk to many about, although a few have heard it. I don’t talk about it much, because I don’t know how the tale ends. That and it breaks my heart every time I tell it…while at the same time, giving it an occasional kick-start. It’s both scary and wonderful. Confusing and conflicted. It’s a story that has been the single-most influential story in my life. And I’ve been influenced a lot of times. This story makes the sad soul songs sadder. The happy pop track even sunnier. This story has been going on for 8+ years now and as much as I’d like to understand it, it’s a story of what happens when something wonderful and sad happens and you have no control over it. I often wondered – especially these past 4 years – if it was a story of circumstance. Of youth over-romanticized. Tonight I got to revisit the story – in person and, while bittersweet at times, it made me realize that there has been a constant in my life and constants are not something I have a lot of. I want to tell this story to make sense of it, but sense is for stories that others can relate to. And there’s just no way of relating to this.

Which is what makes it that much more special.

But shouldn’t special be in grasp? Imagine being given the perfect gift, but you’re only allowed to look at a photo of it – do you celebrate the fortune of being awarded it, or break down because it’s not in reach?

It’s not always ‘the thought that counts‘.

And sometimes, that blows.

so long thailand. and thanks for all the fish sauce.

By On December 8, 2008 In family, friends, life, travel With No Comments Permanent Link to so long thailand. and thanks for all the fish sauce.Permalink

I leave Thailand in an hour. I leave Asia in a day. This is a strange thing to write. So much has happened in this chair that I sit in, bought by Nym – as it’s her home I’ve been so amazingly lucky to be able to crash in (if you have travel writer friends, be nice to them – trust me!). It’s where I wrote Pierre before going to visit him. It’s where I wrote my little brother who, in his email became the bigger of us 2. It’s where I spent hours upon hours talking with friends when Pierre left us. It’s where I came up with the idea of the [exile] diaries – not a show I was proud of, except that it kept me going, gave me something to do instead of cry. It’s where K– and I caught up and made plans for an Irish Coffee 5 years in the making, where Scott and I planned Chicago. Where T&R and I seemed to time our drinking hours and they, through small words, sent big love. It’s a seat that, if could talk, would outsell anything I could ever write. It became home – a home I only visited 3 times in 6 months; but without it, might have just fell apart.

Funny how this time last year, it was $300 easy for a big night of whiskey and cocaine and now, a bunch of wood assembled in mass delivers more stability and friendship than the party ever could.

I needed to have the police after me. I needed to lose everything except this Mac and a few t-shirts. I needed to be removed from my friends and family for a while.

And I think I’m starting to see why.

india pics

By On December 8, 2008 In photos, travel With No Comments Permanent Link to india picsPermalink



L11200126

…are up here.

back

By On December 1, 2008 In aric s. queen, friends, travel With 4 Comments Permanent Link to backPermalink

[transcribed from a very messy diary entry]

I don’t know why I went to the pub. I mean, I do – but I don’t. I got drunk on two large beers watching with a slight pang of jealousy as the Brits smoked, American’s high-fived and Nepali’s imitated. I used to hate that – people so unabashedly stereotypical, I hated it when I had someone to hate it with, but with it being me, just me, for the past half year,  it all seemed to be a performance. Here’s what was had, each seem to say with every sound that drew me away from the book I hid behind and pretended to read. I don’t want to say I was sad, just anxious, I suppose. Anxious and sad. My friends not too far away from being a table away from me, but what will I do once I’m there? The road has become the fling and friends stay the faithful wife – each dull moment, each moment of loneliness leads back to either. To both.  ’What’ I wondered while making eye-contact with the blond Dutch gal across the floor, ‘will I do differently next time?’ as I haven’t particularly liked this feeling – at its strongest these past weeks. No, that’s not true. From the outside, I applaud it. ‘Good Friend Aric, you’re missing them and writing them and learning more and more to appreciate them’ and from that, I’m happy. But the person experiencing the lesson, it’s shit. It’s lonely. This, plus the nightmare of India/Thailand has become my wet socks when all I want to do is get to my warm bed.

As I giggled to myself whilst having to focus on my steps out of there, as the 2 large beers took their weight around my shin area, the girl who mistakenly took my interest in her as me being interested in her caught up with me.

‘Where you going off to?’ she said, by all accounts a very attractive woman.

‘Back’ I said, eye stinging from my cigarette smoke as I was using both hands to zip up my coat ‘I’m just trying to get back’.

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