Nightblindness. Nightblindness. Through my bones.

I'm with you.

VIETNAM: Clearly, I am at the back of this restaurant, and suffering where I had imagined not more than five minutes ago I would find respite. The heat and noise of the streets, of the children. The inexplicably relentless cacophany of metal hitting metal and teeth grinding teeth. They scream things that to me sound like bets being placed or threats against each other's wife. And now, just a few meters from the kitchen, I am pelted with the noise of two Vietnamese cooks screaming at each other; as each clang of the wok, each chop on the cutting board somehow substitutes for gestures they'd rather inflict directly on each other's face. But then again, I am probably not understanding this situation correctly. Is this what happens to a man who converts to Islam after six shots and a 3 mile jog? Or to a man who's decided to leave everything behind...for the third time in two years?

I'm about to lose it. I'm so excited. I'm about to explode.

I am thinking of a color and missing this color and looking for this color and wanting this color so badly. It is a cold grey. A grey that might be wet. I don't know. A dull grey. A grey with black dots, and maybe browns and whites. I stepped on this grey and sat on this gray and listened to musicians and spoke with strangers. One who offered me cigarettes and a beer. And smiled on this grey. It was a darker version of the sky. And while I was with this grey, I thought of a green. A fresh green. A kind of green you want between your lips. And when I went back to the hotel room, the very expensive hotel room, where I had eaten starfruit and croissants that morning, and black sausages and a sweet Polynesian tea, I sat behind the red curtains. The deep red curtains. The kind of red you want inside you, the kind of red that comes out of a prick on your fingertip in the wintertime, in the cold driven snow. And behind these curtains, I stuck my hand out of the window, and saw a part of Dublin many had ignored. The greys in the skies, the greys on the ground. The promise of greens in the distance, the immediacy of the reds. This is when I thought of you.

It is very hot, as hot as you can stand and I am on a small bay. This was plaza was built for the 1998 World Expo. It is now deserted. I think to myself, "I am so far away." From anybody I know, from any place I've been. I repeat this thought over and over until I find a small coffee shop. I buy ice cream and I hear "Girl from Ipanema" being performed on stage.

I am on the side of a hill and I am Japanese. I am wearing traditional clothing. A navy blue with small, square, white stars and large sleeves. In fact it must be a very long time ago. There is a man in front of me, and we are on the ground, fighting. I have let him hit me, but I'm fine. I now hit him three times. On the thigh, in the upper arm, in the gut. And he cries and I know I have to hit him one more time to kill him. But I stop. My sensei appears, and tells me, "You have to hit him." So I do and when my fist struck his face, there was a flash of white light.

I think it's really funny, if not totally abnormal and stupid, that the way I understand things is by their shape. Kind of fundamental, actually very fundamental, that words and pictures and numbers become an assortment of rectangles and lines. And that my judgement of a well-written paragraph, well-drawn picture, well-conceived math thingy depends on the alignment, symmetry and pattern of the shapes they produce. Say hello to Jose, your autistic friend.

There was a time when I was walking and it was freezing, and I had struggled that whole day to save my last two cigarettes. And I had bought a coffee, which I kept close to my chest. I walked passed the crowd, passed the traffic, and found a street whose shops had already closed. And on this street was a store with pink neon lights. And I sat on the concrete under these lights, that made everything liquid and warm. And I have never seen my skin in that shade before. Kind of orange, kind of hot, kind of like Northern African pottery. I smoked my cigarettes and drank my coffee. A few people passed.

There is a groove in black and glass marbles are falling into place. In pitch perfect alignment, in steady but nervous anticipation. I am ready, and soon, everything else will be. To burst, to explode. A sunburst. Gamma rays. Of speed and direction. Do you know what happens when molecules are excited in a glass container? Do you know what happens when glass marbles in grooves become aligned?

I am at the bottom of a very steep and narrow canyon. It must be in the middle east. A part of the canyon wall is hollowed out and is now a room and I look in to see Cambodian women and Palestinian men having sex. They are covered in sheets of cream burlap and lit by four or five oil lanterns. I somehow discern though that there is no actual intercourse and the men cannot use their hands. Five or six couples.

It is dusty and hot and light orange and warm browns and yellows. it is my turn.

My friends come along, all guys and we lay down. The most aggressive woman comes to me and is very demanding at first. But she asks rather plaintively, "You have to request what we do."

"I cannot touch you." I said. "Please kiss my neck."

She does for a bit and then stops. "You smell of bile and the taste of lye on your skin from the Dial Soap makes me ill."

I wait patiently while my friends are serviced. I am only staring at this woman's face.

I woke up at 5 this morning and masturbated and then tried hard to go back to sleep.

I am sitting with my mom and dad and I must be 8 years old and on a very small and old row boat made of rusted tin. But there is a motor in the back and the woman operating it is dressed as a pirate. We are going to the Philippines and I am concerned that we will not make it. There's not even a cover for when it is raining, and I am wearing shorts. What happens when it rains and my mother gets wet? A woman and her child are also here. They do not look Filipino -- their hair is streaked blond. I am disgusted by this. My mother asks where they are from. I do not recognize the name, but my mother does. We make a sudden stop, still in the harbor, and a young American couple gets off. They are on the wrong ride. The boat turns around again and we pass by a guy who is riding a similar boat by himself. He is preparing to die in the ocean.

I had this dream last night and I tried very hard this morning to remember.
All I know is that there was green, and competition and a sense of extreme height.

I had this dream two nights ago when this woman was being slashed by her husband and everybody on the street thought to do something but nobody did. Nobody called the cops, and when I tried to nobody helped. There are many ways to interpret this, but I think the one I'd like least to pursue is the "misogynistic" one. Deep down, is it possible that I hate women? It is possible.

Last CD's purchased:
1. U2 "War"
2. Vanilla Sky Soundtrack
3. The Avalanches "Since I left You."

Despite the sun, I am not feeling all that great. Sense of isolation and a mounting fear of something. It is like feeling vibrations on the train tracks, and it is very hot in the forest.

I had a lengthy conversation with a friend last night and I was reminded that I have friends who share similar goals. It is important, for example, to be around non-smokers if you want to stop smoking. Sometimes you have to make hard decisions. This friend also told me certain truths and beliefs that sometimes need to be reaffirmed. I like talking to this friend.

I realized that seeing my parents every day is difficult because there are daily reminders of their age. They will retire to the Philippines in a couple of years, and I hope to somehow make it so that they can stay in America. In the Philippines, it is nice. There is simplicity and comfort there. But in America, there are things like, grocery stores, grandchildren, general sense of security and safety within your house, reliable hot water and open roads.

Songs I would like to listen to now:
1. Sinead O'Connor "Last Day of Our Acquaintance"
2. Radiohead "Vegetable"
3. New Order "1963"

I went to Las Vegas and these are my favorite moments:

1. Sitting in the dark listening to Red House Painters' "Have You Forgotten" early Sunday morning and everybody sleeping and peaceful and I am sitting up straight and breathing deeply and successfully getting rid of my headache
2. Speaking with Carlo at Rum Jungle
3. On the way to the strip club, when Yosuke called the French girl a dog, while Martin was holding a beer with one hand and the steering wheel with the other
4. Exchanging compliments with Tammy, Karen and Reyna on the way to Las Vegas
5. Karen laughing as loudly as possible at the cheeseburger restaurant in Aladdin
6. Stretching at the gas station Saturday afternoon
7. Reyna says, "Do you think my sister-in-law dresses like a whore?" Brian says, "Yes."
8. Rum Jungle
9. Out of nowhere, Tammy convulses just before dropping me off and claims a "strange energy" is doing it

Things I did not like about Las Vegas.
1. Waiting, waiting and waiting to go back to Tropicana for my power nap while Tammy kept yapping with Jen
2. Not being able to climb the rock wall
3. Having the worst fight ever with Karen
4. Mike Reynolds giving me a guy-hug but I mistakenly use both arms to hug, and not just the left. I sometimes forget these rules.
5. Freezing Saturday night while sleeping and waking up with a headache
6. Being late to the strip club and not spending time there with Brian and Carlo
7. Not seeing enough of Reyna
8. Waiting for my fucking steak and eggs at San Remo

Going to Las Vegas. Super excited

These CD's:
1. The Avalanches Since I Left You for when I am very drunk and wanting to move
2. Vanilla Sky soundtrack for when I am very very drunk and am on the brink of crying
3. The Best of America for when I am walking outside and looking up
4. Daft Punk Aerodynamic for when I have just begun to drink
5. The Best of Simon & Garfunkel for when I am depressed and walking by myself
6. Sade Love Deluxe for when I am about to sleep
7. Nelly Furtado Whoa Nelly! for when I wake up

I will wear newly-acquired Miami & Sons t-shirt with jeans and black sweatshirt on the drive.
It is 73 degrees in Las Vegas and it will be 44 degrees at night.
I intend to use $50 for gambling and I intend to win $100 just to pay for the trip.