Tang makes supper in the kitchen,

mostly oblivious to my musings and misgivings, consciousness largely applied to a given task rather than set loose to run wild with imagination and self-reflection. Thailand is a womb warm welcome and waiting to soothe the frayed nerves of the semi-erect hominid westerner, ego bruised from the constant duals with self, reflected in an endless stream of strategically placed mirrors creating the illusion of reality for those in need of such. Thailand will survive where others fail because of her willingness to marry up, take the name of her new spouse, and enjoy the honeymoon of the future, should there indeed be one.

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