Today and Yesterday in Ko Tao, 1st October 2010, Thailand

Rudi Van DiSarzio - Open that door in your 'fro

Lizards, some stuck onto walls chasing flies, others on the ground, 2 feet long with flicking tongues.
What a matrix we belong too http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=couVqpuX9CU&feature=related (Thank you Mata DurgaX)
Centipedes or millipedes (who counts the legs?) surround my hut like an insect insurgence.
I fear no legs. Look at insects, really look at insects and you will realise we are not alone. They are here, living in our hair.
The sun approaches the horizon then explodes into a myriad of orange and pink, colliding with clouds on all levels and reflecting off the ringpull of my Leo Beer.
I’m sat on the beach, contemplating the nature of it all, under a palm. Mindful of coconuts and the hazards they bring.  Feeling we are all cousins.
Mosquitos surround and suck.
I travelled through the night from Bangkok, on a bus, then a boat, at times feeling like I was on a school trip. Young trendy English sorts surround, glamorous and well-scrubbed.
Everything is catered for here, in the middle of the ocean, a diving mecca with high-speed internet and 7/11 (shops). 
A worry, I’d prefer to be without, we are too connected, it’s all to accessible and close, even here, in the middle of the ocean.

My paradise has fish and coconuts (pirate rum too). The odd wanderer who knows too much and lives too freely.
‘Now I’m living down here, on the beach, the seagulls, seem out of reach.’
I’m staying with some Rastas on a cliff, in Jungle-midi.
My hut is built from cement, beer bottles and bamboo.
Reggae takes me to a place of peace and understanding.  A soundtrack for the eternal beach summer in mind that I made for myself in my teens, living in Glasgow and darkness.
I hired a bike and explored the hills, strange formations of rocks and trees.
If this is just a ride, I’m on the right track.
If you can’t make the beach, make a beach state of mind.

I listen to this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvsHYRzO8_Q and sleep like a drugged baby until the rain on my huts wakes me. 

If I can’t get off this tourism trail, trodden paths, Im going to Syria.

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