On The Write Path

Do ghosts have voices? [13+]

I'm practicing my breathing today. I'm not all here.

I'm a ghost moving among grandchildren unseen and left to my musings as I sit in the guest house, the hosts young enough to be my children, their own children full grown. I'm invisible, watching time eddy around street vendors and travelers frolicking in groups. I gather my thoughts, as if I could hold them, pretend that the movement around me could be woven into a new life, one full of the promise of tomorrow.

I'm in Bang Saen dreaming of crabs hidden in the mangroves of Ang Sila, the monkeys of Khao Sam Muk, the walk to the temple of Wat Ko Loi in Si Racha. Or I'm in Phimai taking photos among the ruins of the Khmer. A ghost with a camera. Or I'm wherever there is life ... I'm just not here.

I listen to Radio Rad (FM 89.5) in Khon Kaen to try to stay wake. The dishes are washed and I started on the refrigerator. Angie thinks I really need to get back to cleaning. So does Travis. Dalton wanted to visit yesterday; but, I said no. I'm not ready for visitors.

I just don't want to be here. My friend Ann from Washington is in Paris. Anna Maria from Estonia is there too, visiting Isla. Cecilie from Tromso is in Oslo (but I know she'd rather be in Paris). If I left tomorrow could I see them all? I'd settle for Portugal.

I'm practicing my breathing but I did eat. And I've had a couple cups of coffee. I guess I'm not going to have much trouble finding coffee in Thailand (chorreado like in Costa Rica). The culture has some passive/aggressive aspects in common with Costa Rica. This isn't good news; but, at least I know from experience how important it is to not share what I think.

Do ghosts have voices? I'd love to find out. I'm in Maha Sarakham on a rainy day reminiscing about Wat Photaram and its Thai Noi inscriptions as I write my name in centuries old cursive. And I'm drinking coffee at Elefin in Roi Et gazing across the lake. Do ghosts drink? Do they remember their name?

~370 words
Posted in "Blogville " 

2872