Every closed hostel door opens a pub door. I remember reading this in a self-help book.
324. | Quy Nhơn
If everything had gone according to plan today, I wouldn’t have 14 mini dice. Today’s hike was just the way I like it.
323. | The control is the illusion
No control, no illusions, no tension. I am where I wanted to be, and the heavens intended that the bed I had imagined would be waiting at the end of the road.
322. | Hoi An
I didn’t get a pair for the third round, so I looked the clouds in the eye and thought that here and now there were neither questions nor answers for me.
321. | The art of saying goodbye II.
I couldn’t say goodbye then. Then I realized I had said goodbye. Now I’ve learned to say goodbye. Then I realized I had nothing to say goodbye to.
320. | Three poems for one evening
Watching the sunset. Or the birds in the sky. Something that takes your hand and flies you somewhere where time doesn’t matter.
319. | Da Nang
I don’t have to see everything. I don’t have to check everything. I just have to notice when, behind my own “no,” something says, very quietly: Of course. You do.
318. | … because that would be to replace you yourself
I can show you how I transformed myself. I have no secrets because I don’t like to keep secrets. The Miracle is Already Here.
317. | What does it mean to be a guest in Vietnam?
A cup of tea. A bowl of soup. A can of beer. Lots of smiles. Sometimes that’s all it takes to make a stranger feel at home.
316. | … because I was thinking of you
The open road beneath my feet and the sky above my head. Those are the only two things I know for sure.