Traveling is, for me, a simple thing. It's like lifting one leg, then lifting the other leg back, that's all. One, two, one, two, if you have taken step one, you will be able to move step two, and so on you will be able to walk forever. Everywhere I travel, I still wear princess dresses, ten-inch high boots, just add a traveling backpack. I cherish people who tell me that they are passionate about traveling, then go into a hotel to stay, then go shopping H&M, Topshop, then go anywhere, for what? If the goal is a waste of time and money I wouldn't say it is false, but if it's going to be called a waste of time and money, it's not. I also cherish young people who often call themselves a rider, while sometimes only simply climbing on a motorbike to launch on a highway, spending extra money from parents, about writing reviews of all kinds, I took photos of my DSLR and posted it on Facebook, but I wore military clothes and a Vietnamese flag in the distance, I had to be handsome all the time. Going is simply going, that's all, not talking, not messing around, going is not to show off, going is not to check-in, go home to see differently. Go is one, going is going forward.
Just like that, every month to go to a new place, six consecutive years. I do web code in my sleeping bag on the street, and use wifi at a nearby cafe. I drag my Moschino fur across the beach. Blogging at hundreds of bus stops, airports, and train stations. Spray Chanel perfume because a few days have not had water to shower.
I go, one, two, one, two.
One of the trips I miss most is going to Nepal. When I was in Korea, I stayed at couch-surfing in the same house as a Kazakstan brother. I didn't know where to go next, and that period was one of my most confusing times. Suddenly, I got scared of the city, shunned the lights, kept away from people, and went to Korea which made the situation worse. You tell me, or should I go try Nepal? It's really nothing, so I don't have to hope to be disappointed, and when I was there with an orphanage, a family of three raised thirteen abandoned children. I came there, helped them some money to go to school, to rebuild their house. Since I don't know where I want to go, it seems the same everywhere, I think. I accepted, took the family's address, and for the next month I went to a fashion event to raise money to go up the mountain.
At the house in Nepal, I panicked. It is true that there is nothing for them. There was no electricity . Each meal, the children ate a meal smaller than the palm of their hand without any food, evenly spread out on the plate. The children took a breath and finished, then sat and licked their hands the rest of the time, probably like dessert. Girls and boys wear identical shirts, toilets have toilets but they don't drain as often, they only drain it every few days to save the water.
I brought some DVDs to them to see, the first day I played magic discs, they said they wanted to be magicians; On the second day of playing dance discs, they said they wanted to be dancers. The landlord tearfully said "thank you", before you arrived, they had no hopes or dreams.
Having no choice, but not knowing that you have no choice, you live a peaceful and peaceful life. Once a week on Sunday, waiting for the sun to rise, the children would bring water from the wells far away to bathe.
On a beautiful day, after about three weeks there, I couldn't bear it anymore, decided to go down the mountain, to the tourist area of Nepal with wifi. Suddenly seeing KFC products without a shadow, I bought two buckets of fried chicken thighs, they saw me coming from far away from calf meat, tears falling, telling me their whole life that they had never eaten a chicken drumstick. I said, "Let's eat two completely."
After days like that, I thought I understood the extreme of suffering, it turned out it wasn't.
For some reason I decided to go climbing Annapurna. Subjectively, I think it was summer, even if it's cold like Vietnamese winter, it can't be that bad. I go climbing, scheduled for three days both up and down.
Until I get caught in a blizzard, mid-summer.
My backpack fell off halfway up the mountain, and I lost everything I brought along. Wearing a thin, long-sleeved shirt, I went with a guide I hired at the foot of the mountain, and I burned so cold that I was twice as swollen as usual, red and the air felt thin. We found a tea house to rest, went in without anyone, water and food were completely unavailable. I lay like that from morning till night, unconscious, unable to move. It was just starting to dawn, I staggered out, when the guide man pounced on me. Startled, weak, not sure what to do, I was lucky to run into my bedroom and lock the door. The door kept trying to open all night, waving, waving, I was cowering in the corner of the bed, thinking that it must literally be dead this time. Yet I was so lethargic that I fell asleep, the next morning when I woke up I was left alone, the guide was gone.
Lying for another day, my phone was completely out of signal, still with no water and food, no way to get out, and I was almost crazy. In my mind, I draw a billion scenarios, that it will not be until my friends and family get my body back, or I will stay here and no one knows until the next bad guy comes in. . Lonely, and I wanted to cry, but I had no more water to squeeze out.
Fortunately, fortunately for my number, I don't understand how long after that, a tourist guy stopped by at this tea house. He gave me water, and he told me he had run out of food, too, but he had a bottle of rice wine and a pot of marijuana, drink it, and smoke it, and then he and he went down.
It takes three days to climb all the way up, but going down took half a day. At the foot of the mountain, I passed out and fainted, and was hospitalized with water infusion for nearly a week to return to normal. I do not understand if this is lucky or unlucky?
But then I kept going. Still step one, step two, then go forever. One, two, one, two.
I'm still going. At first, a new place, newcomer, I felt like I was exhaling every time the plane took off from Singapore. Then how the hell, the sadness cold, I caught cold, and it just deep down, gradually deepened, into the lungs, out of cure. Now when I exhale, it also hurts.
From having fun in France, relaxing in Indonesia, getting sad in the Philippines, finding joy in Japan, having no interest in Laos, it turning into still bored in America, still sad in Cambodia, still lonely in Myanmar, I still want to die in Taiwan.
As many places to go, to as many places, I am still like a mouse in a glass cage; but once that, everywhere is only in the glass cage. But am I a cage or a mouse, I don't know. Confined in its own form, there is no escape but wait until the cage goes to the ground. People were outside the cage, smashing, screaming, calling me, I know, but the sounds were turned off. The glass was soundproof glass, and no matter how much I want to not understand who is saying what, what should I do, I can only feel the anger out of my loneliness.
Anger, anger slowly turning mad.
Tuan Jun said: "Maybe in my previous life I was a computer."
I run, I hide, but play I hide and seek with myself and run from my own shadow, so I realize whether or not it still catches me.
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Lỗi - Error 404 English Translation
Non-Fiction"Finally, my autobiography book, Error 404 is out, after 2 years of work. It actually took me only 6 months to write 99% of the book, but couldn't write the ending for a long, long time. I wrote a book about a child who was sexually abused, unhappy...
