Pollen

Gaysorn.

It’s pronounced Gay-Saawn. It’s my Thai nickname. It means “pollen”. An old friend of mine gave it to me, and by “old” I mean that, unfortunately, we’re not friends anymore. It’s one of those casual messes that spill in life. It’s not uncommon.

Anyway, this is a opening  re-birthing of my writing lifestyle, this should be a slightly less sad pilot, don’t you think?

Okay, let’s start again. *inhales deeply*

Many, many sunrises ago I found myself awake at 4:00AM– praying to stay in a country that I’d only been in for not even a complete day.

I love traveling, but I was done with the coming and going, making friends and occasionally dropping a “hello” in their inbox and watching the dust collect, attempting to do the same odd magic again, typing “how are you” for the millionth time,  trying to make our friendship rekindle using a match and a pale of water–the pale of water being the ocean that kept us apart. I grew tired of marveling at something beautiful and vaguely recalling it, even after staring at its picture every day on my nightstand.

  • I was sick of souvenirs.
  • I was tired of watching friendships dissolve.
  • I was DONE of just traveling.

I wanted a life. So, at 4:00 AM I prayed.

Sometimes it catches me, usually when I’m doing the mundane things like grocery shopping or laundry, it blows me away with such vigor that leaves me breathless and dizzy… the miracle of an answered prayer.

The beautiful and magical country I prayed for, I now live in, spending my days with friends that feel like family (remembering those that once did); taking multiple photographs of places that I can always visit again, just in case I forget how it looks; and thanking Him each day, whether subconsciously or consciously, for a place that feels more like home with each new sunrise.

This is LIFE in Thailand.

Oh, by the way,

Call me Pollen.screenshot_2016-06-13-07-56-33

 

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