Nothing has changed. Everything has.

I am home from Thailand. I barely slept, but I FEEL rejuvenated...spiritually speaking, that is. All those nights I danced until dawn did me damn good. I am ready to accept reality for what it is and work around it. If I must stay in NYC, I won't be trapped. This is a huge city with so much to do and so many people to meet, and damnit, I will make the time.

Lately, I've been obsessed with getting my hair cut. I think I just need a physical representation of the internal changes. I want to do something a little bit different and daring. I'd like to be edgy and crazy for a while.

It's interesting, how full of close calls Thailand was. So many instances in which it seemed like the trip would be fucked, then it wasn't. Almost being trapped in China then getting on the plane at the absolute last second by a stroke of luck/hours of negotiation. Nearly missing the overnight train to Koh Tao, hopping motorcycle taxis and speeding across Bangkok to catch up with the train, which we made at the very last minute. Losing Sybil at the Full Moon Party for about 2 hours, having a heart attack, then finding her eating breakfast contentedly. Almost being unable to leave Thailand after the Thai airline changed the flight time without telling me. Begging, begging some more, SPRINTING to the gate, and making the flight during the final call, sweating and panting, but PRESENT nonetheless. Falling asleep in Shanghai and waking up only during the final boarding call for the flight to Detroit.

Maybe this all means something. Maybe it is a sign, that this year, this cancer, all of the bad luck we've been having will just be a string of close calls. Maybe, and frankly, in all likelihood, it means jack shit. BUT, at the very least it tells me that close calls can happen. Everything can seem to be going wrong and then turn around at the last minute when you're ready to give up. It gives me hope...if for nothing specific, I know this pattern of misery cannot go on forever.