this day was a funny day, as the last time I had a backpack on, it was trying to find a way out of Nepal and back to Thailand – all during the airport riots. it was needed at the Canyon – but only once more.

it was a long trip – flying from Kathmandu-KL, and then making my way via buses and trains and boats and free-rides back to Bangkok.

I collapsed in my friend Nym’s home that afternoon and threw down the backpack that I had lived out of for 6 months. it was a little backpack, but felt heavy just the same.

but it was the last time I’d have to wear it.

I was headed back home, a place where my passport wouldn’t be stamped with inquisition (or so I thought), a family I hadn’t seen for too long, friends that I had spent more time talking with via Facebook then I ever did in real life and a girl that both kept me away and brought me back.

but the backpack’s coming out again. okay, not the same pack, but the guy wearing it. I thought he was through, at least for a while, but no.

I miss my family and friends already and I haven’t left yet; but I hope that will never change. I didn’t get the passport to be let in my own country, I got it to get out – now I realize it’s for both. the girl, well, wouldn’t I be an asshole to moan about anything, so I won’t. but know that I want to.

see, there’s a bar in NYC that I need to get to. there’s a golf course in the south of England that needs to be played badly on. there’s a cabin somewhere in Norway that I want to write in…

and somewhere there’s something that I hope will help me make sense of it all.

‘jog’ said a friend today in a letter, ‘don’t run’.

I had to laugh.

running has worn me out.