The Page That Doesn't Have Any Particular Theme

Monday 21st March 2005

Cochin Island, Kerela.

Well, it's been a little more interesting... but I'm getting frustrated in a way.

The dorm was wholly empty for about four nights. I couldn't take it. I've changed so much; I think I can never get used to and go back to the long periods of not speaking to someone.... which is why I might do what I'm planning to do.

A couple of nights ago a guy called Simon checked in. He's an art student studying just near Elephant and Castle in London. He's into photography and came over for a break as his sister has been here doing aid work for years. We sat up on the stairs and talked for about an hour. He's nice. Father died when he was young. He's originally from Somerset.

Yesterday, a Dutch guy came. I went up and sat on the patio to give him some space while he unpacked.

A German woman came up to me and said how she loves 'rooftop culture'. She said she came to India alone when she was sixteen because she was accepted in this school which is run by an organisation started by Nelson Mandella in 1945 to study social science as she wants to make a difference in the third world.

She's in a room there with someone from Cameroon, Korea and England. She asked me a lot about traveling. Really pleasent girl We chatted for about half an hour, then she said she'd see me either later or the next day.

I went back in the room. The Dutch guy was gone, but Simon was back. We talked a bit, he asked me what Kovolam was like. He also mentioned that his sister had been commissioned to write a book about the Indus river, and so was off to live in Pakistan.

I got the impression that he was enjoying the trip less because he wasn't meeting people. He's got some friends in Varkala, but he hasn't heard from them, so he's thinking of visiting his sister. I'd love to have a normal family like that.

I think that I've accepted that I can't get back into this life, not right now. I miss meeting people. I had a look back earlier to what I wrote in London, and I know I can never be happy there.

But I'm not here, to be honest. I think, a lot, that my solution would be to actually run my own hostel in Europe.

I started writing some vague plan, but got really into it. Then I had a look at house prices and thought about a loan, realised I couldn't get one as they need three years of accounts.

So I went on a downer... until I realised that there's still a chance to get some money, as a grant from the European Social Fund.

After that, I found a book about writing business plans, and what I'd already written was already like that, I just needed to add a few things.

I have a number of target countries. I was deciding on Spain. I found out yesterday, that for either a residence permit or work permit, you have to submit a medical report from an authorised centre. I'm not sure, if you only need it for a work permit, but not self-employed business liscence... then maybe it's still possible?

It's so hard to find anything out. I mean, the nitty gritty. What's the minimum wage in Spain, what's the average price of a three bedroom house in Belgrade? How much would a weekly electric bill be if I had 24 guests in Cluj?

Yeah, it's demorolising, to not be able to find this all out. I think my plan is to do as much as I can here, then go and ask the relevant embassies in New Delhi, go to Gujarat to look for this birth certificate from 1900, then think about leaving.

Am I the most unsettled person in the universe?

Saturday 26th March 2005

Cafe de Net, Cochin Island, Kerela

Done it again. Got to know someone, and just earlier they left.

I think it was the day after I met the German woman. I was sitting on the steps and some English woman asked me if it was my phone that was charging.

I can't remember exactly how it all came about. I think that evening I got talking to two people on the rooftop, and the guy in the bed next to me came. He'd already moved into a room because of the mosquitos. Actually, I recall now. He'd been traveling with a woman for a while but she was then leaving the next day, and I got talking to her.

The English woman joined us and we all got talking or something. It went on really late. It was nice, the guy is called Andes, and was kind of naive and comical in some innocent way. He was 22, the woman was my age. Nikki Lichtenstien, a recently qualified vet from Cambridge. We talked about lots of things, including my idea for a hostel, and how I can't sleep at night unless I drink... and it's been that way for a long time.

Next evening they were both there and called me over, but I wanted to shower. They came in and asked me to eat, so I said I'd join them in Elite restaurant.

I went up and it was all green lighting. The service was really incompetant, to the point of being funny. They had been sitting earlier with this dour guy who walked out because it all took so long.

Earlier, the night before, Nikki and I had talked about our time in Puri and Nepal, where we've both been. Andes had completely changed his plan due to this.

Nikki talked about herself a bit. She lives in a co-op, so it's like a room for fifty pounds. She has a dog her parents are looking after. She's Jewish, and going down to do work with animals in Kovolam, then Chennai, and going back to England in June.

After this we went down to Salt & Pepper, took a few pictures. I told them about my web site.

In the evening, we went up to the rooftop, and Simon joined us. We all chatted, and Nikki really got on with him. I think we ended up going to bed about three in the morning.

Next day, Nikki and I had decided to go to Vypeen Island, to this deserted beach which she had read about. She asked if I needed to drink first thing in the morning... or just at night.

So she woke me up. I had no coke so she took a tonic to the restaurant for me and brought it back opened, then went down to wait for me in Kashi Art Cafe.

We talked more and I had lunch. In this coop she lives with this guy who had ME and had to use a bed pan, but now he's better, he still uses it. I don't recall everything, mostly it was an exchange of travel annecdotes.

We left there and walked down to the fishing nets. There was a basket of fish dying in the sun. I felt really bad for them, but photographed them anyway.

We went to the boat, gave some money to a beggar and went over to the island.

The rickshaw wanted too much, but the bus was waiting, so we went on this for about forty minutes, then got a rickshaw. On the way she said she'd been expecting too much and was getting the feeling it was going to be disapointing.

We got there and it was just a sandy beach, not wholly deserted, but not many people and all local. There wasn't even shade. We just looked at each other and laughed, then went and sat in a restaurant.

I think we talked for a couple of hours. She told me about this French guy she traveled with in Morocco who turned out to be a bit of a psycho. She mentioned that there was darkness under my eyes, which people mention to me every now and again for about five years, and she said she understands that this means kidney malfunction, and that I should see a doctor. But mostly there we just talked generally.

We went back to the sea for about ten minutes and she got her feet wet, then laughed and said, 'Right, done the beach then!'. I got some smokes and she had a big bag of crisps. I said to her that it was her turn to get the rickshaw, expecting a load of trouble haggling like I'd had, but she just said to them, 'Charas, for 20 rupees?', they said yes straight up and she burst out laughing.

We got back and she said she wanted to see a violin concert, will I come, so I said OK and went back to shower.

After I'd showered, I sat on the stairs. There was a large group of people on the rooftop but it was dark and I couldn't see them. Nikki then spoke to me. It turns out that Simon's bumped into his friend from the south, a drama student, and he's made two more friends who are with him. So we all went down to eat at the place next to the Kathakali centre. There were actually seven of us as Andes also came. That's the most people I've sat down with since... China?

One of the guys was ill and he was with this woman. Not sure from where but was about to start a degree in Manchester. I talked with her about the time I was poisoned in Thailand, and she told me about Munnar. She had this strange infantile voice. I couldn't work out if she was together with the ill guy and she turned and touched him and asked if he was OK at one point. But I noticed when she mentioned the fact that her hair was dyed, he expressed surprise.

They weren't interested in the concert, so Nikki and I went alone. It was 100 and we walked in. There was about five other people. It was a violin and two drums. We watched for about two minutes, then I turned to her and said 'It's awful isn't it?' and she agreed, but wouldn't leave until the song finished. It was kind of ironic in a way. While waited I asked if she couldn't fake some severe illness so I could carry her out.

We left and didn't know were the others were... because they had some... really nice cigerettes. We almost went to Salt & Pepper but decided that they might have gone back to the rooftop, so we went to ask, and yes, they were there. So I went to the shops, then went up.

The woman passed me... a nice cigerette. There were two or three going round. I went really quiet and relaxed. Nikki had some kind of panic attack, but it passed. After about an hour, the three new people left, so I, Nikki, Andes and Simon talked. It was nice because Andes just lie there like a statue, but occasionally would say something. Simon and Nikki really got on, and talked about places they'd been. There was a moments silence, then Simon asked Nikki, 'So you're going to Kovolam tomorrow', and Andes answered 'No, I'm staying here', thinking the question was for him.

They went, but he was nearly locked out (Andes) because he has a room downstairs.

Next day Nikki was supposed to be leaving, so she came to see me in the morning and said we'd say goodbye about three. I went down to eat.

At three, she was on the rooftop talking to Simon. It turns out that there's some special celebration at the synagogue, so she's staying an extra day.

I went to lie down and was shattered. Simon came when it was dark. He said he was doing a conference call with some friends, and that Nikki had gone out with a French Guy.

I went and ate at The Courtyard. I came back and was on the roof a long time alone. First Simon came up. The drama student was with him, and they had nice cigerettes. The student turned out to be really nice, softly spoken, and I had a good chat with him. Then Andes came up, then Nikki. We didn't talk as long, and all went to bed. I realised how well I'm getting on with Simon.

Next day, which is today, I woke up and Nikki came in. She said she's not even going to get to Kovolam today, but decided to just get on some bus and spend a night in the backwaters somewhere and arrive tomorrow. The woman from the animal shelter will understand, because it's not like a paid job.

So she gave me her email, plus two phone numbers and said I can go up to Cambridge when I get back. She said, 'lay off the grog, or at least take it easy. It would actually be nice to see you rather than take you to the hospital', she also told me not to be glued to the bed but to move on.

And that was it, she left.

I've been feeling really weird generally. I think I'm so unsure about the hostel, the one I want to start I mean. Sometimes it feels like a great idea and I can't wait. Other times it just feels impossible, like all I'd need to do to set it up, and then being in one place and having to run it with all of its hassles all of the time. I basically feel like sh*t about everything.

Wednesday 30th March 2005

NetCafe, Princess Street, Cochin Island, Kerela.

Unbelievable time.

I was on a downer after Nikki left, and it's hard to recall all that has happened since then, and in what order, but for dear, dear diary, I will try.

Nikki left the day before Easter, though Easter's never been a big deal for me. That night I ended up on the roof with Andes, Simon, the drama student who's called Binnie, and also William, whom they were earlier travelling with, and he was being visited by his brother.

Can remember very little of it, except it was fun, and Simon had some nice roll ups.

Next day I woke up and Andes was lying beside me, and Simon had strung up a hammock and was swaying in it. They were ... sharing a cigerrete, so I was basically doing this from the moment we woke up. Binnie and Edward joined us for a bit then we all went down to the water.

Binnie had the idea to play hunt the Easter egg, but there were none, so we all had a mango instead. William and Binnie went off to get a haircut, Simon showed me how to buy nice ciggerettes, and we came back and just lie smoking them.

Binnie came for a bit, but then left with Simon to go and get a book they had seen.

Alone with Andes, he kept talking. He asked if people in China smile more than people in India, and I said in China it's illegal not to smile. Cue giggling fit.

They came back, and we basically had a 'Sunday morning', as Simon referred to it. At one point, he dropped something and I watched him doing everything he could think of get it rather than move. He looked over and saw that I'd noticed him, and we laughed.

They went for a bit to phone home as it was Easter, and I was alone with Binnie for a bit. It's nice, he spoke openly. He said how his parents just got divorced, he wants to go to drama school.

We went up on the roof and when everyone was assembled we went down to this cheap food stall, then walked up and smoked and played cards all night on the roof. Really good fun.

We met two other French women who were working for Le Guide Routard, the French guide book. Edward turned up with a woman about my age called Rachel. She played some cards and we chatted for a while, mostly about travel. She's been all over because she's an artist.

She left, as did the French women. The latter came back and said there's been an earthquake in Indonesia, so we went back and watched some TV with them, then went back up.

After some time it was only Simon, Andes and myself, and we played Texas Draw poker for matches, and the whole day was just brilliant. One of the most fun days I've ever had.

Everyone had planned to be leaving the next day, but no one did. I went out and ate. The shop owner told me there was a three day strike starting the next day to protest about VAT.

Next day, not sure. That was yesterday, yeah? Wait, I'll just check. No, it wasn't ????? I don't know. Edward left I think but we did basically the same thing, but just started later.

Yesterday was weird. They bumped into another two boys they went to school with, simon and Samuel, then a third one, also called Ed, checked in. So there was nine of us up there playing. William treated us to some Bombay Sapphire.

I had one time alone with Andes, I mean we both stayed up slightly later. He told me about his mother, and she's very superficial all the time. Also, she has one sibling that she really favours.

Today, a new guy called Renee checked in. Simon and Andes left together. I'll miss them. Andes used to just sit and watch between all these people, like observing them because they were interesting in some way to him.

Simon and I might be in Delhi the same time. Andes seemed a bit quiet, but we shook hands, though I don't think he'll be in Delhi long.

I went over to the mainland earlier. I came back and bumped into William here in the NetCafe. He's going, but Binnie is ill and going to rest for two days. He asked me to keep an eye on him and make sure he drinks enough water.

Busy time eh? So tonight, there's Ed, myself and Binnie. Plus the new Renee of course. So strange that someone should turn up just as I would have been alone there otherwise.

I had absolutely no emails though.

Tuesday 5th April 2005

Cafe de Net, Princess Street

Dream

I was walking along some local street and some kids started teasing me. It turns out they were a 'gang' from Gujurat. When I told them that I originate from there, they were really friendly and helpful.

Interpretation

Perhaps I'm supposed to go to Gujurat?

It didn't work out the way I thought before. Just after I finished on the computer, Will was here. He said he was going and goodbye, and can I keep an eye on Binnie, because he needs to keep up his fluid intake.

Later I went out and Will was still there, actually deciding to stay another day to look after Binnie. Will stayed in reception all night, but I went up and spoke to Ed Foster for a bit.

Next day I went down and Ed was there. He said that Will was ill now, but Binnie better, so the former would stay, the latter leave. I went out and ate, then came back to see them.

Again it's changed. Now Will's taken an immodium, and so they're both going. We chatted in the room for a bit, then were joined by Ed and went to Art Cafe.

Then it was all goodbyes. All except Ed and Andes will be in Delhi in June, and so we could meet. We swapped addresses and shall hopefully stay in touch. Yesterday Simon wrote, and also Nikki, though I haven't read them yet.

That night I spoke to Ed on the roof, and he left the next day.

Next evening, there was an Italian there. About my age, he's basically drifted the whole of his life and keeps thinking of settling but never does. He did try to start a business but realised he wasn't ready yet.

Last night was completely alone. It's strange, to get these bursts of meeting people. It's strange that people are always going also.

The whole thing, knowing all these people, was about ten days. I keep remembering things about it. I didn't wholly fit in in some way. Like Will's brother would thank me for rudumentary things that he didn't thank other people for. Though Binnie seemed relaxed and I think wants to meet again. It's very much a class thing I think; they're very educated and didn't really have the same experience of childhood that I did.

I remember being with Binnie and we both knew the same waiter in Salt & Pepper, and were hugging him as it was his last day.

Apart from the lazy Easter, cards was the most fun. There were three main games. One was like trumps, except there are twenty rounds. You start off with ten cards, next round nine ect until one, then that's half time, so you go back up to ten. The trump card is pre-chosen each game. You have to predict at the start of each hand how many you will get. If you guess this, then you get ten points as well as one for each trick. I won both times because I realised it's better to guess low, then throw the hands.

The other one was s**thead. Again, each person puts a card down. You have to respond to the card before you. Generally, you have to put a higher card on, but two beats anything, three is invisible (so you play to the card below it), a five has to be matched by another five or a suit. A seven has to have a card below it and a ten clears all the discarded cards. You start with three cards and pick one up each go so you always have three until the pack is gone. If you ever can't put a card down you have to pick up all the discarded cards. When your cards are gone, then there are three face up cards you can play, which you were able to change at the start of the game. Lastly, when these are gone, there are three face down cards you have to play by guessing. So the point of the game is to have no cards.

The last game was Texas poker. Loads of fun. Two cards and a round of betting. Check to put no money but will match if there is betting later. Raise to keep the betting going, or check to match and go onto the flop.

The flop is three community cards, and then a round of betting starting with the person who last raised.

Fourth card and betting. Fifth card and betting. That's it. Really good fun.

Of course, this is all past. The dorm's empty, I don't know about the hotel itself. It rained heavily the past two days. There's hardly anyone about. I'm still on the business plan, though all the people I've met were certainly a diversion. I really must go. No where excites me though. I Don't really want to be alone anymore; I always want someone there. But then there are all the goodbyes aren't there? I feel empty and directionless in the dorm.

Yasmine sent me a text that made no sense yesterday. I think it was mocking my Asianness and disability, I didn't think so much about it.

Did't hear from M or A since all these people arrived, so I have something to talk about.

Yesterday, I downloaded some songs. Apparently there was a virus in one of them and the computer's stopped working. He just came over and had a go at me.

(?)Friday 8th April 2004

Dream

I was with Anne and someone else. She snapped at me to come and help her and made some accusatory comment about living full on for ten years.

Then I was watching a huge whale.

Then I saw a little white seal on the beach. I was watching it and suddenly it was attacked by a dog. By the time I got to it its eyes were all damaged and it was blind.

Interpretation

I think that's really interesting. I think it's about writing. How I used to want to really rise in the profession. Always have done. But since I got back to India I realise I want to do more than one thing. Like the more modest seal, I was blind to not see it.

Dream

I got to Delhi with Binnie and the others. We all boarded a boat and were going onto somewhere.

Interpretation

This will pretty much be what happens. Simon wrote and said we can all meet up there, then we will each go onto new futures.

M&A phoned Tuesday. Not so much news. Renee, my cousin in Belgium with a similar health condition to myself, has had to give up work due to the pain. Nothing else.

I've been alone in the dorm. It's an unusual thing I suppose. Not unusual. I lie there and think of the mad times and the people who are gone now. The goodbyes get to me. Of course, if I end up with a hostel, there will be even more of them.

Sunday 10th April 2005

Fort Cochin, Kerela.

It's absolutely dead here, wholly off-season.

I feel so strange about the hostel. Sometimes it's all I want. Other times, it feels impossible. I've never taken any kind of responsibility, and I can't imagine it. All that needs to be done. It would be a case of just going with a vague business plan, faith and not much else. But I think I might have to. It really is non-sustainable.

When Simon was here, he used to share some ... nice ciggerettes, plus he showed me where to buy them. I've had them these past two nights. I have one, then go out, come back and have two more, then go to sleep.

But that's it; I don't drink. These past two nights I haven't needed to. This is the first time in many years I've gone to sleep without alcohol.

But it's not like alcohol; it's almost like a healing thing for me. I lie there and am wholly relaxed, and usually a little happy. But my mind isn't deadened or fantasising. I'm wholly in the present. The night before last I was thinking about J and that situation generally, but wholly lucidly. I just saw it in a different, honest way. She didn't want me, and I felt an honest saddness, but in a way that was, not dreamy. I could see and feel.

Last night, I thought a lot about my childhood. Of course it's always been the fact that when Mother's marriage broke up, I went to stay with Anne for a bit, but it didn't work out when I went back to M's. Her partner didn't like me, so I ended up being brought up by A.

But last night, smoking..cigerettes up on the patio, I saw it lucidly and differently. I realised that it isn't really normal. Most people don't grow up with an Aunt. M paid Anne a monthly fee to have me, which I now receive. I suspose the sense of rejection was lucid to me last night.

I remember when I was up on the roof with Ed Foster and he was telling me how glad he was that he went to boarding school because you end up living with these lifelong friends.

So G. got private school. There's a bitterness in a way because my state school was so bad and damaged me and made the eleven years they had me that should have been the best of my life, the worst. Nowadays, before I usually drink at night, it's my school days that I'm flashing back to as I pace up and down the room.

OK, so we all got something. Y. got a normal family till she left, G. got boarding school, and I got to travel all around the world. I wouldn't swap with those two. It's just that last night, I realised there's just a bitterness, more saddness actually, underlying everything.

I feel different. Wholly. I don't just mean recently. The nature of consciousness feels different since I left India that time to go to Europe. I feel uprooted. Things are more real in a way, but in a way that makes me feel sad and at sea.

I think my relationship to alcohol is different to other people. I never drink in the day. For me the whole thing is about getting to sleep. I first started having trouble sleeping in my teenage years, and I've never mastered it. I can't stop my mind and the flashbacks. Alcohol solves it. I drink, a lot, just before I sleep, and I'm fine. If I don't, I'll stay awake. It's like a torture to me, to lie there in the dark, alone. The very worst times is if I wake up very early, like five, and nothing's open and no one's about and there's nothing to distract me, and it's too early to drink, I must wait and fill my day with meaningful activity. Those few hours are awful.

But, with... this other thing that Simon gave me, it's just gone. I can sleep. I stopped alcohol dead and feel fine. I wake up early in the morning, though not too early, and I'm enthusiastic and I get things done.

Can it be a permanent answer? I don't know. My life, feels free this way; I know not what it has in store for me.

Thursday 14th April 2005

Cafe de Net, Princess Street, Cochin Island, Kerela.

Ach, it's a weird time.

I Can't remember when it happened; I think it was Tuesday. I wrote to Nikki a while ago and received a reply by return but never read it. I was thrown out of Cafe de Net for a while for accidentally downloading a virus. In this other place, they have something wrong with their cable and so it never worked long enough for me to actually deal with my personal mail.

Anyway, I was up in the dorm, I heard someone say hello, and Nikki walked in. Apparently, the mail said that she was travelling back with her friend, Leeander. So, there she was, and her friend whom she'd met at the animal shelter.

So, we went to Art Cafe, talked a bit. They'd had a good time, and had cancelled the Chennai plan. We went back up to the patio and smoked a bit, then went to Salt & Pepper and talked. It was OK.

Next day we met in the Art Cafe. Nikki asked me to go to Mysore with them. Leeander turned up. She's getting married in a month and had bought a photo album. I didn't really click with her. She's extremely white (fair enough) but describes her parents as bigots. I tried to get specifics from her, as she said her father doesn't like 'Pakistanis'. She seemed to assume that all the dark people in England are Pakistanis, though she admitted that if he should meet a Sri Lankan he probably wouldn't know and think they were Pakistanis.

Anyway, in the Art Cafe, just as Leeander arrived, they looked at each other and Nikki shook her head, and Leeander said 'It's because me', to which Nikki said nothing. I asked what they meant, but they just said 'Girl Talk'.

So of course, I surmise that it was about if I was coming to Mysore.

That evening, I came back and they were in reception; they'd had pedicures. I sat for a while watching TV but then went up without further comment. I could hear them meeting some guy who was living next door.

Next day I didn't see them, but Leeander was watching TV when I went out and said hello, and I returned and she was still there; though we didn't speak.

I passed them this morning, said hello, and they're leaving this evening at six. It was really uncomfortable because no one mentioned me not coming. Of course if they did, then I could say that it isn't about Leeander. I'm getting into stuff here. In the email from Nikki, which I actually read yesterday, at that point, she was still planning to go back to Kovolam and so was asking if I was still here.

I felt like an outsider with them also.

I saw Simon's friend yesterday, for... imported cigerrettes; it was really frightening, but I'm OK.

Just before Nikki came, I found a book about Yoga Nidra. I've been interested for a while, while I was researching Life Magic I came accross this. But I really want to try to achieve success in this, especially so that now I realise my addictions are actually sleep related, then success in this would solve a large part of my problems (I actually wrote questions instead of problems by mistake to start with, which might be telling).

Another insightful night last night. No alcohol at all.

I realised how much I think about J. I always know I did. Sometimes when I'm down some memory of a moment together will surface and there's so much yearning in me I wonder if I'm lighting up in some way to the people around me. I already know that I think of her for at least a little while each day, and have done since I last saw her. I think last night it just sunk in ... how much all that actually is.

To change the subject slightly; the business plan has gone about as far as I can take it. But there's such doubt in my mind. When I think of all that has to be done and what my life would entail; it feels almost impossible. I don't know if I could do that. But if I don't... what else will I do?

I paid some rent yesterday; I've been here 45 days. He said I can have a single room for the same price, which will be nice to practice the Yoga in. I'll have to move, as soon as I finish, ... my experiments.

I know I always whine about this, but I want to say it once again anyway. I'm a weirdo. I had this surreal time more than ten years ago where, for two weeks, I was normal, lucid and happy. Nothing compares to it. Is that it? Are there lives like that, a little oasis of happiness on a sea of dissappointment, and I only get to stand on its shores once?

This all seems morbid and depressive... but maybe if I think about it enough it will lose its power...

... SO I HAVEN'T THOUGHT ENOUGH ABOUT IT EVERY DAY FOR THE PAST TEN YEARS?

Yeah, OK, it was just a thought.

Sunday 17th April 2005

Park Avenue Hotel, Princess Street, Cochin Island, Kerela (Cafe de Net closes on Sunday).

Yesterday, I had two of... "Simon's ciggerrettes". That's it. I had one one the patio, then one in the room because there was a power-cut. Then I went out to eat and came home. I thought about having one more, but lie down and fell asleep, then awoke at six in the morning.

I'm angry in a way. In the daytime, I have nothing. I never have. I always wake up, live my day, then go to bed and consume a large amount of alcohol to sleep.

Now... just stop to think about it. What would my situation be like if alcohol was illegal... and ... other things legal. I'd be thinner, richer, more healthy, more effective; so would everyone.

The world's gone mad; what's wrong with everyone?

There's a philosophy of misery about the West. It's like the argument against euthenasia... actually, what is the arguement against euthenasia?

I can't remember the statistic exactly, but it's something like, if you take the average person and work out everything they take from the state in a lifetime, like healthcare, pension, benefits ect, something like two thirds is taken in the last three days of life.

I can't imagine anyone being against euthenasia. It's like trying to imagine someone arguing to legalise bestiality, murder or peadophillia. Only the mentally incoherent would want this.

The only arguement against euthenasia that I can think of it a blanket 'thalt shalt not kill'. So it's a religious thing?

But the UK is supposed to be multi-cultural. That means that people from different cultures live together but rather than make a melting pot of culture, or forcing people to live according to native culture, they have our own culture but live together as one people.

Bu****t.

So, if it's truely a free country, you could say, fine, I choose atheism. So there's no God saying I can't end my life in I'm terminal.

Sorry dear, no you can't. The'll force you to live according to their belief. Not only that, you have to pay for the expensive religious beliefs of all the other Christians.

Look... take some stupid piece of medievil superstition like... well, there's lots, like christianity, judaism, islam ect (delibrately not using capitals).

OK, for the sake of illustration, let's take Islam. Say some guy went to the UK government and said that the word of God states that his daughter has to have her genitals removed, so he's off to Iran and he wants Tony Blair's blessing. Not only that, but will the tax payer fund it?

The answer would be: "No, you backwards a****le, not only are we refusing to fund a backwards, medievil superstition from a culture we do not belong to, but if you do it anyway, you'll be jailed when you get back to London.

Good, so there's something we all agree with Tonyboy (as he likes me to call him) on.

Next scenario, a Humanist (capital intentional) lies dying, less than three days left. Enter Tony. Humanist says:

"Tony, according to the culture I've decided to create and adopt, I belive there is no reason for my suffering. On the basis that it takes so much energy from the people caring for me, plus over a hundred thousand pounds a day to keep me alive for three days tops, could I please say something meaningful to my family, then spend my last moments in meaningful contemplation before my chosen end, rather than screaming my guts up in agony."

Tony: "I'm sorry. Two thousand years ago Moses went up a mountain and... what did he do? Er, is he the one who was going to kill his son as a birthday present for god, but god only wanted a goat... or was that Abraham? Anyway, whoever was offering the gift, God should have been more greatful. Never look a gift-horse in the mouth. Anyway, no, it was Moses. god said never kill in any circumstance.

Now it might well be the case that almost no one actually practices the tennents of Christianity anymore... like, who's actually truely entitled to wear white to their wedding day? But it's the spirit of the thing, like spending hundreds of pounds on unneeded electrical goods at Christmas so that children can be occupied rather than bother adults who are trying to get drunk.

What I'm actually saying is, although no one actually has a religion in UK anymore, except the dark ones, I don't know what they believe, it's something from Pakistan or wherever. What I mean is, in England, we were always made to go to church at school, so it must be right. Once something has been done a certain way for a long time, that must be the right way, no matter what.

OK, I'm being stupid... no I'm not. I'm being sarcastic; it's a valid arguement. Remove superstition and there's no arguement that comes to mind.

It's not really about that. Not really. In the west, perhaps only the UK I'm not sure, there's misery philosophy. You have to put in a 'hard' days work. It doesn't carry respect if it's creative and you love doing it. Everything is a competition and a test. You have to have a slow and painful end because... it's always been that way, so that's how it's supposed to be.

Think of the kind of trouble at chucking out (closing time) in the average uk pub. Vomiting, fighting, loutish behaviour. But it's always been like that, so it must be OK.

Think if it was something like Amsterdam coffee shops instead. People sitting talking, giggling, too relaxed to fight and damage to the body and cost to the state, almost nil.

I think people believe in living gods also. In the west, someone dies and immeadiately they're covered, then hidden, and there's a ritual where they're in a box, never open to view unless they've been made up and look nice. So people have no idea.

Now take one of these anti-euthenasia puritans and leave them outside A&E in New Delhi Hospital. Let them see someone screaming themselves to death in the last days.

In England, people don't see it. They think that medical 'professionals' are gods, and at the end it's all sweetness and light, and the painkillers will make it dreamy and light while they wait for the angels.

Strange though, that's not how I remember my uncle going when I was a kid. As I recall, they moved a bed in the living room and he sprayed vomit and sh** everywhere, screaming intermittantly for two weeks while white people walked round with fixed smiles on their face, excitedly talking about all the great things we could all do when he ... 'get's better' to the stupid twelve year old who knows damn well he's not getting better and prays for his demise.

That's it. Got wound up. Sorry. I'm off to the patio... to see if Simon left anymore.

Tuesday 19th April 2005

Cochin Island, Kerela, India.

Same again last night, just two and bed. Well, yes, one before I went out, and once when I was in bed.

It's not like alcohol though. Not better or worse, just better for me.

I think with alcohol, there's a sense of well-being and so on, but also total escapism. With, this other thing, there's the mild feeling of, being there, the mind is lucid. I'm feeling really strange in the daytimes now. I wake up before eight in the morning, but I've spent most of the night thinking about the thing I've drank for ten years to not think about.

Friday 22nd April 2005

Cochin Island, Kerela, India.

Dream

I was sitting somewhere looking at a rooftop. There were people occasionally sliding down it and collecting in a guttering.

I looked again and noticed that there was an extension to the downwards slope, so occasionally someone would slide about another five meters lower than the others and end up in guttering even lower down.

Someone remarked to me that this is where people who don't want to live go.

Interpretation

I woke up from this and when I sat up I felt something really painful at the back of my nose and slowly and painfully slide down my throat, and after that I had a bad cold. It's obviously saying that I've brought it on myself by being morbid.

I think it was last Tuesday that M&A phoned. All is well. It was a bit of a shock as I was in the shop and it was a bit earlier than usual.

My sister sent me a text; a joke about the Pope's demise. Not sure if she did it accidentally, or if all is forgiven, though what I did I still don't know.

Still sober, except for one day a couple of days ago. I woke up, but couldn't smoke anymore because of the cold I've picked up. So I had a few drinky-poos, slept, woke hung-over, and realised how much I hate alcohol now.

I keep seeing herbal guy, did this morning... but I hate dealing with, these things.

Yesterday I put one of the cd's I brought from UK in, with Life Magic on, and accidentally put a virus on the computer. It's the second time I've done that; the owners going to be really mad, it's the second time I've done it. It means I can't ever come here again, though it was pretty much time to move on I guess.

I wanted to put the pictures of my first trip online. I mean, from 1993 when I left until I returned. It turns out I didn't bring as many pics as I thought, but realised that I basically only have some pics of the friends I met along the way.

The friends I had some feelings for. It's a sad story, only three, and only one was truely nice. Oh dear.

I left England 22nd Febuary 1993, and met Suntaree 25th Febuary 1993. We were only friends, and even then, not so close. But I'd never been abroad alone, I'd actually never even slept away from home, so it was good to have someone to hang about with. Everything was new in those days, new food, culture, experiences. I really missed her when I left because I'd never, just had fun like that. She used to work for the government. I wonder how she is now? I used some software to make a little gallery, and you can see it here. She's with her sister. There are also a few pictures of Hong Kong, and people I met there, which is where I went on leaving Thailand.

Also, a while later I met Nemia a while later. I was with her about ?ten weeks which is a record for me. It wasn't, meant to be I suppose. There were some OK times I suppose, but we didn't really get on or click in any way. I found out later that everything we'd based our relationship on was lies anyway. I was duped... There was still some degree of 'happiness' I suppose.

That's it. I have all of J's memrobilia and correspondence, but for some reason, it's read only, and I can't get it online. I'll manage it at some point, but not now.

Every time J ever wrote to me, she always ends in saying, 'eat well and try and make friends'.

I remember when I first left Perth. I'd been so close to her that I resolved not to spend so long alone, to stay in dorms and meet people. I didn't tell anyone, I just realised that such isolation was causing me problems. J must have realised it intuitively also. But I went straight to Chang Mai Holiday Guest House, got food poisoning for a while, travelled a bit, came to India, drank --- stayed alone and ate badly.

That was a mistake; I should have listened to her.

But you can't change your past.

I was thinking recently though, how meeting people is also trouble. Yes, it's lonely alone. Yes, it's good to open and be understood and accepted. But thinking back to all the people I met recently. There's also, trouble. Like with Binnie. He's nice, but I felt like such an outsider with his friends and Will's brother. It was a race and class thing; but also, I am just weird and I make an awful lot of people uncomfortable by just being me. I can sense it. I'm different and there's a sense of standoffishness with them.

Cochin Island is full circle for me. When I was here a couple of years ago, it's where I made the decision to go back to Europe. It's where I did the long piece of magic that took me there and back. It's where I designed the new home page.

Now I'm here again and it's where decided I couldn't write just now, that I wanted the hostel, and where I started having second thoughts. I know when I leave here, I'm going to go in a new direction; I just don't know how or where. It's also here though, that I discovered, how to sleep.... ;-).

It's frustrating. I really want to put J's correspondence online. I feel different somehow, once I've included or discussed something in the diary. With this virus yesterday, I can't open any programs at all; only windows explorer from the desktop, if not that then I wouldn't even be writing this. The man will find out later, and so I truely can't come back here. And if I can no longer use this fast cybercafe, then I may as well move on; it's too tempting to keep seeing herbal man and end up doing nothing. I don't know where to go for sure; I don't know where to go when my visa finishes. I don't know what I should do about anything. It's only two. I don't know what I should do with the rest of the day. Go and shave and use the oracle I guess. I'm practicing Yoga Nidra at the minute.

Wednesday 4th May 2005

Colva, Goa, India.

Yeah, finally managed to leave. Not just like that though. First I had an emergency ticket but couldn't get on the quota, but made it out a couple of days ago.

It's funny, as I was in Art Cafe and saw this waiter I knew from Colva. After that I moved to Ernakulam and stayed back in Biju's for three nights. Then I came here.

I remember the first time I went to Cochin, around 2002. I was doing a lot of thinking there, broke down in some way. It's where I realised I couldn't stay out of Europe for ever and told everyone I would go back. So I did that piece of magic, came back, and then returned again.

But this time also, I did a lot of thinking, and made another decision.

After leaving Cochin, I was in Ernakulam, and of course, drank. The night before last I was on the train. There was no alcohol, no ... 'nice cigerrettes'; and it was all perfectly clear to me then.

What I mean is that, I think I just realised something in Cochin. It might have been because I smoked 'Simon's nice ciggerretes' so much. It's nice, but my mind stays lucid.

That night on the train, I had nothing, and I realised, clearly, why I at least need something.

I lie there alone, and I feel so much self-hatred and disgust with myself that I wish I could pull my face off and set fire to my torso. I feel like a monster.

I'm very different, very diseased, just me. It took me a long time to realise. I didn't know as a kid. I was lonely then, but didn't know I'd have to stay alone forever. Yes, it was obvious that there was something wrong, but I thought it would be OK. I really wanted to find someone, a partner to be with and start a family with and just fit in somewhere. I did college and was still alone, and so hit the road, expecting it all to work out in some way.

It didn't ofcourse. Yes I met Junko Imanishi. Yes that was normal, and happiness, my only happiness, but unsustainable, because I am me.

And over time I realised I'm never going to be normal, and I can not make anyone happy.

Each night, alone, I'm too aware of it. It's so clear. I only really, deep down wanted to be with someone. I found her and couldn't keep her. It's strange, so long ago and I know I'd never even try again. And at night, I just think the same thought again and again. It's all I wanted and I'm never going to get it.

In Cochin, I realised there's one way that life can be sustainable.

Smoke.

Like yesterday, when I arrived. The mental pain of being sober on the train was so painful, horrible, inescapable, that I was just craving a drink. I got here and had one with breakfast, and then a few, and then a whole bottle, and didn't sleep until early morning, and woke up tired. My kidneys hurt most mornings and I feel drunk for a few hours. Not hung over, drunk. I can't stay here living like this.

But earlier when I smoked, my days were productive. I only had around two grams and just slept. I woke about six. I started eating well, looking forward to things.

I faced a fact in Cochin. Unless there's a miracle and J turns up, a book deal materialises and I live happily ever after, the fact is that it's the only way I'm going to be happy in any way and maintain health. I have to structure my whole life to be in a place where it's either easy to buy, easy to grow, legal or all three. That's just the way it is. Life is so bad without it, and so much better with it, I only need it at night, and then not so much.

This is my new direction. I'm going to make a life with it. I know I won't find anyone to love, and will never be truely happy. But if I can smoke at night, my days can be productive and bearable.

Not much other news. I wanted to go to Hampi, but the trains only on Saturday. I got a text from my sister saying happy birthday.

That's it.

Friday 6th May 2005 (My Birthday)

Colva, Goa, India.

My birthday today. No one said hello. I wrote to Junko. Then spent the day thinking about smoking.

Next day

... of course, there's always the thought, if I can only ever be happy with this, then what's the point of being alive?

Sunday 22nd May 2005

New Delhi

Yep, back 'home'.

I think that Delhi's like meditation. You have to try and walk down the street and watch your breath and the calmness in your mind, and if you can keep it -- you've at least made some progress in this life.

Some dreams in retrospect, as I've been dreaming an abnormal amount recently...

Dream 17th May 2005 (in Colva)

I was in a department store, I think it was Beatties in the town I was born. I was on my knees near the sales counter in front of a machine for kids that they blow through and a bubble comes out and floats off. I was putting in loads of liquid and blowing really hard so that a multitude of bubbles would be produced and fly off; occasionally hitting someone and irritating them.

Then I saw two women sit down to play a coin-op game which I had previously been playing. I still had some credit, so I went over and pressed the refund button, and a few coins came out.

Then I was with Mother. She was telling me her long term plans, where she'd be this year and then that.

Then I was in a small, dingyish yet airy room (but dusty) and was with Mother. There were two Nuns in front of us, behind a desk. Mother showed me a piece of paper and said she was going. The paper had a date on it but I couldn't make all of it out. The first letter of the month was a J. The date was the 4th.

She went and I waited. The Nuns were looking ominous, so I asked them, "She's gone hasn't she?". They nodded and I wept. An old Nun lead me aside, sat down and knelt me beside her. She was old and looked compassionate, but then, although the rest of the face was OK, her mouth changed. It was hideously long and slightly parted and there was pure black space inside her mouth; it was grotesque. She told me that this (me being shown a date) was truely a miracle. She said that before Mother went she had told her that she wouldn't be here for the feast of St. Steven on the 24th September.

Then she hugged me. I could suddenly feel something radiating off her, a sudden oppressive, sinister feeling, and I knew I was being held by death itself.

Then I was on the Kettring Road, near Scrooge second hand clothing shop, in Northampton. I bumped into Darren Tierney. He was with Gabriel, Simon's ex-girlfriend, and had a moheacan haircut and punk attire. He apologised that his phone didn't work and said that he would be free to see me Christmas day.

Interpretation

This was a horrible dream, because of what it so obviously means. I had it the first night I'd managed to fall asleep sober in very many years. When I woke up I was alone in the dark and quiet room as I'd only slept a couple of hours. I was very scared, mainly because of the memory of death's mouth.

The first part, me blowing bubbles, shows me wasting my time, which is what, it turns out, I've obviously done with my life. Then someone else is going to play the game so I get my refund, meaning this life I've lived has to now change completely.

And the rest is letting me know it's this year? As I'll be in UK for Christmas?

So the dates? The paper can only be June 4th or July 4th (US Independence day). I checked for a St Steven's day. He was the patron saint of bricklayers on account of being stoned to death (stoned???). It's on Boxing day, i.e. December 26th. So, why the 24th? I didn't know anything about St. Steven until I looked it up just now by the way. (Awwww. I just touched the cpu and got an electric shock).

The only other thing to say is that the church in Viena, where I last read J's post was the church of St. Steven. So maybe M. won't be here when I hear from her? Or maybe M. goes then? This is too horrible to think about. Perhaps the whole thing just wants to reaffirm my idea to go and make a try of it in Europe?

"With a royal diadem, your sacred head was crowned, for the struggles you endured because of Christ our God,

O Stephen the First among Martyrs; for refuting the fury, of the angry Judeans, you did see the Savior, at the right of the Father.

Him do constantly beseech, for the souls of all of us. (4th Tone)"

- Apolytikion of Saint Stephen the First Martyr

Dream

I was with Junko in a park after all this time. I was being really affectionate. She was a little standoffish, but pleased to see me.

I was in Anne's lounge with this furry kind of creature. It had a tiny baby the size of my thumbnail. She was trying to take care of it but it kept sticking to her fingers meaning each time she handled it the already broken limbs kept breaking more. The creature said that she was too clumsy to help it. I tried but it kept sticking to mine.

I went to the kitchen and got cake. When I came back it was dead. The creature and I cried, begging it to awaken. It did and I fed it a little, and it grew a little bigger, but was still small and pretty broken.

Interpretation

OK, so I'm the broken thing sticking to Mother. The point is, it didn't die, but got a little better.

Yes, everything's coming to a head. I'm going to make choices in Delhi.

News...

Back in Colva, I met this guy on a motorbike. He had some, 'special tabacco'. I was scared and hadn't been planning on buying, but ended up with a sizable packet in notepaper.

I took it home. It looked about twenty grams, but was finely chopped, with some of it almost being powder.

I smoked it the next day, an awful lot. There was something funny about it. Abnormal taste. I felt... a little happy, but not great. I went out to Goodman's restaurant and felt weird.

Then I was ill for a long time. A bad fever, lost my appetite, constant pain in my right side on standing and vomiting. It went on for about a week. I met this old Scots guy from Preston but was feeling too spaced to speak to him.

Eventually I was well enough to go and get a ticket. I went to Meeting Point travel and the girl told me that I'd never get any ticket without a months notice, so said to go to Margao to use the tourist quota.

I went all the way there and queued. The man said there was no tourist quota but I could get a general ticket, but then he went to lunch and the woman who replaced him said I wouldn't be able to get it but would have to go to Vasca to use the tourist quota there as Margao hasn't had one for years.

Next day I took the bus to Margao bus park. I was still ill and my side was hurting. I changed for a bus to Vasca. This took about an hour and then I didn't know where I was. I wandered about and found the station.

There was a huge queue. I waited. They have a self-service machine now for passengers to check availability. No one can use it, it kept crashing. When it did work, no one could work out what it was saying. They all stood around calling advice to the hapless user. I could see myself, that when there was no waitlist, it would show nothing, but they didn't get what that meant. Also, it would take a long time to process things and people using the keyboard would look at that instead of the screen and not understand that their keystrokes weren't being logged. So they would then stare at the screen waiting for something to happen when nothing would.

Eventually it was my turn. I specified a lower berth class 3A for the day after next, got the ticket, got out and got a shuttle bus ticket. I sat and waited for the bus. I went to the counter and the man shouted at me because I'd missed it. He made me pay again, and I realised that the buses don't have signs on.

I got to Margao bus park and my flip-flop broke. I bought this in Hungry and have walked kilometers in it. The asphalt was so hot, everyone laughed as I hopped to the bus. In Colva I tied it to me with a plastic bag and that was my day.

Next day I was sitting at breakfast, looked at the ticket, and realised that it specified a middle berth. My side still hurt and I have trouble getting in this when I'm well. It was a three day two night trip, so I spent the whole day going back to Vasco to change it. I upped it to lower berth class 2A. When I got the new ticket, I checked it and realised it was boarding Vasco, when I'd specified Margao, so changed it again, then I sat out the station. My side hurt and the plastic bag was making me limp severly.

That night, A&M phoned. All is well.

So, I had my train. All went well. I was in with three soldiers but they were OK.

We arrived in the morning. I went to eat, then went back to Prince Palace Hotel, where they remembered me and gave me a discount.

It's really been like a homecoming. The waiters, touts, drivers, shopkeepers, everyone remembers me and came and said hello. I've never been as remembered as I am here.

I was looking forward to having a cinema day, but as far as I can work out, there's no way at all to work out what's on. Never mind.

Not sure what I'm going to do here. Make a decision I suppose. I've had a good think. As far as I can see, my options are:

• Stay here in Asia
• Go straight to England
• Go through Central Asia, then overland to UK from here
• Go to Nepal, then go through Central Asia from there

420

I had encountered at least one of those curious mirage-plants about which so many of our men told stories. Anderson had warned me of them, and described their appearance very closely - the shaggy stalk, the spiky leaves, and the mottled blossoms whose gaseous dream-breeding exhalations penetrate every existing make of mask...Although everything was spinning perilously, I tried to start in the right direction and hack my way ahead. My route must have been far from straight, for it seemed hours before I was free of the mirage-plant's pervasive influence. Gradually the dancing lights began to disappear, and the shimmering spectral scenery began to assume the aspect of solidity. When I did get wholly clear I looked at my watch and was astonished to find that the time was only 4:20. Though eternities had seemed to pass, the whole experience could have consumed little more than a half-hour.

In the Walls of Eryx, H.P. Lovecraft, first published in Weird Tales 34, No4 (Oct 1939 P50-68)

Thursday 9th June 2005

Ajay Restaurant, Paharganj, New Delhi

This is insane. What a day. I'm hemmed in in this mad Internet place, can't move the keyboard, can't hardly type. Not much time. New ideas though. Change of plan. I'm giving up on the day; I'll say another time. Sick of this though. https://www.rx-pharmacy.cc www.noprescriptiondrugs.com!

ChanGinG .....................................

Monday 13th June 2005

Ajay Restaurant, Main Bazaar, Paharganj

Some dreams of earlier...

Dream, about a month ago

I was in a dorm with the Italian man I met in Cochin, i.e. the last man who stayed in the dorm. We were raided by police and they found his stash and the police said he would get five years. I thought the police would then be really horrible to me, but the one in charge said that we are related as he's from Gujurat, and he was really friendly.

Interpretation

Funnily enough, I bumped into that Italian man a couple of weeks ago here in Delhi.

I think the dream means that, now I've found a large part of the solutions to my problems, I'm safe, protected, somehow when I need it.

Dream

I was in art cafe in Cochin and some reviewers from Lonely Planet guidebooks came in.. They walked into an adjacent building thinking that it was Art Cafe and the owners were really worried that they would get a bad review.

I walked to the back of Art Cafe and it was a kind of showring. Two dogs ran past me into reception and I noticed that they were bleeding from their anuses profusely.

Interpretation

Should have found my answer earlier.

After the above dream, I kept waking, but not totally, and could slip back into a dream at will and also come out my body (nope, hadn't taken anything if that's what you're thinking.

Dream

I was on a large passenger ship and something was wrong. In the lift with some other people the ship kept rolling to the right.

Then I was checking into a hostel with some people, including Nikki. It was night and we slept. Next day we went outand I was smoking a 'fragrent cigerrette. Nikki told me not to outside, and then I saw a policeman and I dropped it (Delhi's no smoking policy), then I beamed a huge smile and exhaled all the smoke.

Interpretation

Dream (This one about ten days ago in Delhi, and followed by very lucid out of body experiences.

I was on bus number 44 and got off, then realised that I'd left my carrier bag with unspecified contents on it. I returned and was surprised to find it was still there, I think had been handed in.

Interpretation

44 is the dialing code for UK, so perhaps it confirms that I can continue my life-story from there?

I think sometimes dreams just confirm what you've already worked out for yourself. Like when I broke down in 2002, then went to Nepal and was struggling with the ebook. I had a dream that I was in an airport watching a British plane and an Asian one. The latter took off eventually... which I took to mean, stay and try to make it in Asia... but now I'm thinking, no.... I don't know, honestly...

So, the news... and it's pretty significant...

First of all, I bumped into Gupta, the rickshaw driver who used to drive me home every day. I got to know him, so that was nice. All the rickshaws have digital meters now, but none work. Also, the buttons are on the passenger's side, so they can be reset. Passengers cheating the drivers, there's a change.

I told Mother about a month ago that I want to start a hostel, in Amsterdam (you know why). I might be OK at it; I've only ever lived in hostels, like looking after people, have all my ideas in place and, well, in my mind I think.

She was really enthusiastic about it and told me to go for it. I started looking for a land route to Europe and decided to go via central Asia. I had meant to see it coming to India but it was too cold, but I still had the Xerox's of the guidebooks I got from the libraries in London.

So I went over to the embassy of Kazakstan. It was surreal. They only let one person in at a time, so I stood in the street for two and a half hours. Eventually I went in and this Oriental looking person was the most talkative person in the world. He wouldn't let me go, giving me advice about travel agents and stuff. Even when I stood up to leave mid-sentence, he just carried on.

After that, I went to Tripsout travels and they said it would be 17,000 rupees not including tax, to Almaty. I went another day and Sunny was there, with his black dog, he sold me my ticket to Egypt two years ago. He said, if I will leave at 2am. and go via Moscow with Aeroflot, than I can go anywhere in Europe for 16,900, INCLUDING tax. So, I decided on that. I really couldn't be bothered with an overland trip now.

My white shirt is missing from my bag; I haven't worn it since I left UK, so the roomboy in Cochin took it, Simon used to complain about all the things that went missing also. Plus I had no trousers. I went right down to South Extension, to the shop where I always buy jeans. I walked in and said, ' pair of jeans, like I'm wearing'. They showed me upstairs and tried to get me to buy some designer trousers for 7000 insisting they were jeans. I went downstairs and they tried to get me over to the Lee jeans as I'd originally wanted, but then I was offended, so walked out. I ended up with a really nice pair for 800 in Connought place, nice material, little bit soft.

There used to be a little girl here who used to beg by holding my arm as I walked along, and not letting go until she got a coin. She saw me again recently. I'd been walking too far and asked me if I have polio.

Also, there's a beggar with his feet back to front, only about fifteen. They banned begging round here, and the other night I watched him lie screaming on the floor while the police beat him with everything they had. It was horrible.

But everything's illegal now. Like I used to go down and buy omelettes in the evening, but it's illegal. I was standing there buying one, and the police came and shouted at them to leave. The streets are dead at night. They ask you not to smoke tabacco in the streets. They banned all psychoactive drugs, it was in the paper. It's a blanket ban but there are stories of mothers with autistic children who are falling apart because the medicines the children need are illegal. It's insane, the whole place is becoming a police state. I blame in on Sonia Ghandi/Dikshit/Congress.

Of course, when I went for a strip of Diazapam for the flight... ILLEGAL. It's OK, I've been here so many times, I 'know' people, and managed to get 20 Alprazolam, a short acting benzodiapine.

I've grown generally disillusioned with India; perhaps not forever, but for now. I'm not supposed to be here. Even the people at Prince Palace try and rip me off each time I pay. I'm sick of it.

Anyway.... the plan is, in two hours, an airport taxi comes. I check-in at 11pm. At 2am. the next day, I fly for 8 hours or so to Moscow. Two hours there, and then a 3 hour flight to Prague. That's as far as I go. I'll stay there a while, finalise the business plan, and head over to Amsterdam.

My conclusion to this trip.

I think that whenever you say NEVER about anything, then because the nature of the universe is fluid movement, then unless you change, you invite these painful lessons. I said I'd never return to England, and ended up breaking down when it was time to and I couldn't. I said after Junko, never... and, actually, I'm still working that one out. Anyway, Never Say Never.

Well, I'm going to eat something. I'm getting scared of the flight. I've already finished a new photo page and designed fully, a new diary page, for Europe. I won't link to it until I'm safely there. Just in case. However, if I get there all in one piece I'll add a link just below this horizontal line.

I'm alive!