I am back. And instead of feeling rejuvenated, I feel so heavy-hearted. It really wasn't what I expected at all. Being there made me miss Thailand so much, that I reckon I would still make my way down in August although my parents fear it'll be chaotic due to the coming elections.

The first night we touched down in Bali, I felt a sense of foreboding, almost like a black shroud enveloping my very much anticipated vacation. There was a dark aura all around with so much negative vibes.

When we arrived at the resort, it looked really pretty, so I thought I was just being paranoid and everything would turn out just great. But lo and behold, the same wary in me very soon returned en route to our rooms. That night, I could not sleep at all. Every time I shut my eyes I would see black figures flying around. Alana likes to sleep with sound and lights, but I like to sleep in quiet and darkness. But I actually relented to leaving the lights on, and even turned the TV on, making it voluble before I could finally doze off in and out of sleep. Ever so often I would awake to check if Alana was still in the next bed. Doesn't take much to guess that I bugged her every night after and squeezed onto her tiny single bed. Still I didn't sleep well, but it was definitely better than the first night.

It felt so dark for me, being there. Dark in every sense of the word. In terms of lighting and spiritually. I'm not a good Christian but I tend to get sensitive about these things. I probably had a dark cloud hovering above my head the entire trip. I experienced a very awful transgression to my mean, impatient and hot-tempered doppel-ganger.

It was supposed to be a fabulous long-awaited holiday, rest and relaxation in tow, with a beautiful beach and gorgeous sun, partying and drinking. But somehow it didn't really turn out that way. Of course there were fun times, like ping-pong with the girls, pretending to drown in the pool, and boogie-boarding.

Most of the trip, I felt tension, I felt segregation. And within me, I recognised my lack of patience and my old, dormant friend - my flaring temper. Because I was feeling like that a good percentage of the trip, it just propelled further negativity inside of me. I felt like such a mean and ugly person. I didn't really wanna be touched or talked to. I drank by myself (thanks Alana for trying to keep up with my drinking), smoked by myself and I would just stare into space and let my thoughts grow tiny legs and run amok. Three quarters of the time I don't know what we're doing or where we're going or what's going on. I'm emotionally drained. I don't know why I was constantly tired the past 5 days, which would mean I'm physically drained as well. Funny isn't it, when I didn't do much but to be hot-tempered.

All of my friends are patient people, they're good people. That's why they put up with me. I'm not patient enough, I can't even sit down and complete a wordsearch puzzle. I can't imagine driving in the traffic in Bali. I can't imagine not having some peace and quiet now and then. Despite everything, I can't imagine not having these friends.

"Bang
I'm mad, I'm mad, I'm mad
Like a big dog
Bang, Bang, Bang
I'm mad, I'm mad, I'm mad
Like a big dog yeah"

-->Damien Rice - Me, My Yoke And I<--

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