travel report 13: Koh Tonsay

You all know that to call me an Agnostic would be to insult all Atheists. Because Richard Dawkins has become rather annoying in his insistence on regurgitated lists instead of analysis, and in the face of my disregard for organized religions I do reserve the right to feel blessed, and, to use the languages of god to express feelings of happiness where appropriate. Let me only state that through my current journey I have come to better understand the forcible feebles and their need to explain all and everything; every coincidence, every hatred, every joy and every seemingly immeasurable amount of mana from the sky. In no way do I mean to confuse you in regards to the affiliations of my soul, which, just to clarify, does not exist, as I am not a duality and instead a single entity (happy, sort of like a pig in the mud). Please take the following in the spirit of the preceding, as an expression of joy to be alive and to be allowed to experience. I am sorry for the rather sappy tone. It seemed appropriate.

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The gods surely must be beautiful. For I dined as ye kings of old. Good things come in three and the third night on Koh Tonsay will remain edged in the souvenirs of my mind. I was not supposed to stay this long, but realize now how foolish that thought was. The fresh pepper crab, pulled out of the ocean minutes ago, melts on tongues too taste-stunned to express the usual. You must at one point in your life partake of Kampot Pepper. Have it in Paris, as they used to during the Roaring, but prefer it freshly whence it grows from.

This starry night I spend with souls well met. This idea in all our minds, floating. In and on the waves of this soon to be moonless night. Soon we are in the becalming waters of the bay, of the soft sand, of the moon setting distantly, of the spirals overhead. Of the luminescent waves underneath.

The gods surely must be merciful. For tonight I swam with the candles of the sea. Imagine thus, every movement, every moment a trail of glittering light. Enlightening us. Tiny, too small to see during the harsh light of day, but glowing grandly, hundreds of times their real size in the light of the night of the falling moon. Mother nature's ephemeral blessings bestowed upon us all. A ballet of the sea on fire. A symphony of joy; and sing I must, softly, while floating in these milky waters of creation. Shine in the music, cleanse me. Melody in the lights, set me free.

The gods surely must be bountiful. For I dove among the floating stars of a million miles underneath the sea. My open eyes drink an orgy of riotous light streaming past as snowy flurries will do on dark European winter nights. I wish to remain, to stay in this place, to be something else. A dolphin; fins of light and trails of joy.