not sure how i have just stumbled on this thread but it appears i have a lot of reading. cool pics and epic journey. How did the cargo ship journey happen?

all the best

The Revolving Hands of Time

It certainly doesn't help that I have been nailed to the bed for the past 2 days, but the sexual freedom of being single has lots a bit of its allure... at least for now! In the midst of a long term relationship, you oftentimes find yourself fantasizing about illicit adventures... The taste of a new body. The curves. The soft flesh. The ways of seduction. And the ultimate elating conquer Yet, here I am, alone, and the longing eludes me.








Like most of the touristic areas in SEA, Pham Ngu Lao has everything for sale. Women. Iphones. The latest counterfeited gadgets. North Face. Drugs. But I am not buying. I have never been one for mass consumption and have always preferred quality over quantity (whether it be friends, women, movies, conversations etc.), but, truth be told, I got old. And it didn't happen progressively like one might assume or is wired to do so, no no, it happened when I put down the bottle 3 years ago. Time suddenly caught up to me. All the abuse that I had exposed my body to with the bottle, cigarettes and psychedelic drugs, all came crashing down overnight... sigh Much like my high school buddies mind you, that having a few kids around has wrinkled their faces and whitened their hair (and jeez, we are not even 40 yet for pete's sake!!!) Thankfully though, I take aging as a blessing, not a curse, but simply stopped running with my dick in my hand Or maybe I am just sick

Anyhow, before embarking on my flight hcmc-ny-mtl tonight, lets have a last snapshot of this endearing country :




Ok folks, I know you are fed up with food pics with fb and all, but have a bit of leniency : Vietnam cannot be described without at least 1 food pic




Same rule as above applies for local bus pics




Damn guys, I promise this is the last one Local food which consists of rice topped with your selection of 4-5 items for a mere 1$




the detroit where the Han river flows into the ocean in da nang




And of course, Vietnam without a coconut pic would be Canada without... a hockey pic, I guess




Make that 2 coco pics




Bridges have always fascinated me, much like railroads




A barber shop... just because




These ****ing dwarf-like miniature chairs found in all local restaurants cafes tilt me like no tomorrow Like literally tilted, to the extent of falling on my arse last week to the joyful outburst of the locals


I think you might be mixing up my thread with chopstick's, who did the Trans-Siberian and cargo cross-pacific... Funny thing is a subbed to da captain ask me anything about sailing thread last week only to subsequently discover chopstick's blog after he posted ITT. Anyhow, lots of interesting reading ahead

Will be back this week with a couple of posts on Montreal as, curiously, I have not done so despite having strong emotionally attachments to that city.

Run good all

Darn, I ran out of editing time, but she is too cute for me to leave out

Hot as fukk, wood wife her/10

Less pics of bridges lol more thread savers

Liking the updates, spent many a night in Pham Ngu Lao do your self a favor and rent a Martin 107 I've seen them go for as low as 40k VND/day. Have you been to the New World Hotel right down the street for a session of 2/4USD electronic poker? Played with non other than Men the Masta there a few years back, good times...

The bridge pic is actually my favorite one in the last post Granted, the girl is quasi irresistible though...

Hey Hank, always good to hear from you How are things man? Any new exciting projects?

I only had 30h in HCMC and spent half of them sleeping, and the rest in district 7 with a friend. The fever made everything outside of sleeping uninspiring

Kinda butchered my return flight after I had promptly found this HCMC-HKG-NY-MTL schedule which figured to be the cheapest, filled in the info, impulsively clicked on purchase, but alas!, the transaction did not go through. As I continued to search for new flights, I found a more appealing HCMC-Taiwan-Vancouver-MTL for 100$ more. I was snap going to buy it (and stop in Van for a day or 2), but then noticed, just in time, a new email in my inbox informing me that the previous purchase had gone through. Kinda unfortunate, considering that I yet again found myself subjected to a multitude of questions in the immigration office when going through USA customs (FML ) as well as delayed 3h for the subsequent NY-MTL flight. Yup, I am the nut worse as far as flight schedules go...

Still living in Tallahassee Fl working at a Jimmy John's delivering food by bike and volunteering at the Bicycle House, I live vicariously through the other travelers who stay there as part of it's mission is being a bike tourist hostel.

Fighting off the wanderlust one day at a time which is easier to do when I'm active in the community.

Ever been to Gananoque Ontario? it's probably less than 2 hours drive from Montreal Family used to vacation up in the 1000 islands and I've always been interested in the little poker room they have there mostly for my chip collection but small hole in the wall card rooms are very fun for me but also my biggest drinking trigger by far so I try and stay away.

Safe travels, keep the pictures coming!

Dubnjoy,

Been lurking your thread for quite some time, really enjoy your way of telling a story and the photos.

One thing I've been wondering is what is the relationship/attraction (not phrasing it right) to the remote Yukon? Seems as if you've mentioned during multiple years that you stay in Dawson City for a while.

Darn, Toronto Raptors blows out Miami in game 7 by 27 points





Next up, Lebron James. Toronto will unfortunately lose in 6, me thinks.


Nice man. How far are you from Tampa in Florida? We could meet up, if I happen to go this winter... Never been to Gananoque, and won't be able to do much this time around, as got my 12 days here jammed packed already with catching up with friends and family (we will go to Casino of Montreal for some pokerz next week though).

Hey thx golddog, have lurked your thread as well To answer your question about my acute relationship with the Yukon, I feel as I need to go point by point, as a narrated paragraph might be too long and lack in concision

- It combines the best of both worlds. On the fringe of civilization and the wild, Dawson City benefits from modern day's technology (wifi, satellite tv, variety of food, cell phone signals etc.), while remaining in the midst of the bush. If you look back before the advent of the internet, newspapers would take (and still do) a few days to get up there!!!

- Different/interesting people. And by different, I mean fringe-dwellers, drifters, hippies, runaways and misadapted folks (along with normal folks, obviously) all reunited in a small town.

- Magnificent nature underneath the midnight sun (20 hours of official daily sunlight in the summer, yet we see no darkness for 3 months str8).

I guess what brought me to the Yukon in my early 20s, was the romantic concept of lost innocence - sorta speak. All I can say, is that from the get go, my love affair with Dawson was sudden and intense If you are more curious about the Yukon, my PG & C of last year, 25k in 15 weeks, was meant as a sorta light-dusted-folklore-anthropology outlook on this little Yukon town (I tried to include daily pics, stories or description of Yukon characters etc.) :

http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/17...weeks-1535509/

Anyhow, thx for reading

Montreal, C'est Ta Faute

Montreal, c'est de ta faute, je t'aime trop c'est pour cela (Les Colocs)
"Montreal, it is your fault, I love you too much that is why" (Andre Fortin, lead singer of Les Colocs, who committed suicide in 2000)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5tqgP5SM95Y

It was never an us vs them thing. French vs English. No. It was about forming a better world. One where social justice would not be a foreign concept. One where collective safety nets would give everyone a chance to succeed, to prevent the dreadful societal downward spiral in the event of failure.





During the dawn of the 1960s, while the rest of America was discovering Rock n Roll, how to walk on the moon or the art of taking up arms overseas vs those evil commies, Quebec was taking its first steps out of its dark feudal christian ages. Not sharing many affinities with the rest of North American's political ambitions, Quebec's political independence fight focused around ceasing the power of its own government/province (English businessman were still largely dominating the political landscape). The process was arduous, yet would rapidly grow in amplitude, as the notion of "province" was replaced by one of a new "country" while simultaneously nationalizing electricity, health care, schools and, frankly, whatever the state could put its hands on (Quebec was commonly tagged as "the Cuba of North America").

Equality. Social justice. Emancipation. Individualism. Accomplishment of self. Peace. Civil Rights. All concepts that were demonstrated for, marched upon in the streets, sung in tunes or ultimately amended in the parliament : it was the sixties Revolution baby





But the dream of a generation, of a nation, would ultimately be deemed for failure ; in fact, one can argue that being French equates with losing, being conquered, stomped upon. Rinse-repeat. Until the end of times. Seeing that intrinsic Quebecois stubbornness perhaps helps conceal the reality of the defeat... Or, in pure math terms, French = hopeless romantic





You had the Canadian army walk into the streets of Montreal in October 1970, arrest over a hundred Quebecois and patronize them like an enemy. You had the 1980 Independence Referendum in Quebec lose in the tune of 40-60%, a defeat that favored Canada's unity. Then there was the 1995 49.5-50.5% pure coin flip that kept Quebec within its confines. Failure after failure, such is the French Canadian way.





Quebec, a nation that is prompt to take the streets in sign of protests at each given opportunity, was left with our dick hanging in its hand, like an empty promise.





But I lied : it was always an French-English thing, unfortunately. From a very young age, both sides learn how to despise the particularities of the other French are known to be lazy bums that love to indulge in gambling, substances and booze. English, for being narrow-minded, mercantile and imperialistic. In hindsight, I grew up like a normal kid : full of prejudges and preconceived thoughts, carrying with me an anger that has been transmitted from generation to generation. It is a sad affair, to be honest, but one that exists in every country and all parts of the world.

I love Quebec. Love the culture. The music. The movies. The romanticism. The architecture. The desperation. Yet I have since relinquished my status of "Quebecois" to French-Canadian ; or, in other terms, despite originating from a French background, I have since happily set foot in the English part of Canada, leaving behind me all forms of racism, hopefully...

Peace

Mesmerized

Montreal, 1997. Even through the blasting live jazz music, the incommensurable amount of pints populating the table, the rings of smoke, the shouting and the titanic degree of ebriety, we still manage to engage in a silent conversation. One where my hand gently finds her leg. Where my vision is suddenly overwhelmed by her massive boobs. Her generous curves. Luscious smile. By those big, obscure eyes tinted by uncontrollable libido desires. When I finally give into the seduction and stare into her soul, I know that there is no coming back. Insofar as to relinquish the memory of my gf to a far, subconscious realm... Even that strict warning of hers that "you can sleep with any girl you want, but not her" belongs to another lifetime...

Her hand promptly finds mine as she gets str8 to the point :

- "lets go to your place". I oblige.

The taxi driver doesn't intervene when we start making out in the back seat, engaged in a series of irrevocable sexual chain of events... She tastes delicious, smells of a horny and succulent garden... her exquisite curves trace all the back to her ancestral Italian feminine roots, while maintaining that perfect firmness at an age where all saggy tendencies remain uninitiated...




Monica Bellucci google pic, but pretty darn close


The bedroom rapidly becomes a cradle for moaning, sweat and consumed desires ; hours away remains the guilt of infidelity and the eruptive anger of my gf... for now, we repeatedly indulge in losing ourselves in the vibrating impulses of the moment, creating a safe - yet ephemeral - lustful haven. **** this is good


Imagine 2 decades of memories, family and friends - followed by a 17 years ellipse - condensed in a single a moment... Such is the uncanny feeling by which I am struck while walking down the memory lane that have become the streets of Montreal... As if I am simultaneously exposed to the familiarity of the past and the oddity of the present walking hand in hand... A stroll during which the city literally vibrates : inch by inch, it is charged with memories, thoughts and a collective urban madness




An Emily Carr (originally from B.C.) painting




Jean-Paul Riopelle, Quebec's famous Refus Global painter and alcoholic


Haha, I got caught in the narrative of this post and was having a little fun Montreal's passage was more mundane than intense tbh, despite my electric past here

Anyhow, here are a few pics of the city despite the fact that it did not feel natural to pause life for snapshots in a place I still call home :




Carre Berri, located just by my old University, l'UQAM. For the uninitiated, this use to be a dirty little square piece of grass populated by homeless folks and punks (and a place to get a quick score, despite the doubtful quality...)... God have things changed Now you find a heteroclitic mixture of the latter with students, and casual workers/businessman populating this nowadays picnic-like area







There are a ton of churches across the province, but more than half were sold, abandoned or serve entirely other purposes since the Quiet Revolution of the 60s. This specific church is now one of the buildings constituting the campus of the University of Quebec in Montreal




After all those hours spent in subways in Mtl, here is a classic pic




Haha, really wanted to get those legs in here


Am flying out for Whitehorse in a few hours for a 4 month stint in the Yukon ; no 4 days on the greyhound this time around

edit : hey folks, show a bit of love in my old lady thread : I need 9 posters within the next 6 days in order to start a new 30k challenge :

http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/17...inues-1604291/

Run good all

Home is Where the Beaver Pond is

15 years... A decade and a half extending back to 2001, at a time where Dawson was commemorated for its 100th year old 1896-98 Gold Rush birthday (which drew in not only increased tourism, but workers and drifters much like myself) until now, where the price of gold certainly keeps the town adrift, but the lack of housing and remote geographical location keeps the seasonal workers ashore... Yet, I keep coming back Because this place is unique. Peaceful. Slow. We let ourselves settle in, and time flows by unnoticed... 15 years.





Perhaps it is the mountains, the confluence of the 2 rivers or the endless valley...





Or the peaceful promise of staying just outside of town in a land ravished by dug out beaver ponds and slanted man made hills...












Or the random hikes that lead you to natural havens, tucked away beyond civilization's reach...





I will make an effort to update regularly this summer. Am planning on using my van for lots of camping, so pics are surely to be plentiful As far as poker goes, my progress will be found in the Old Lady thread, thus freeing this thread of poker content for the near future.




Got these wheels for an extremely +EV deal


Run good all

The Land Before Time

"Why the hell would you ever live up there?" the inquirer would ask, after I had mentioned that I live in the northern parts of the globe... Why would I ever live here, you ask, so shall I answer...








"Is it for a girl that you moved up there?". The passion I feel for the outdoors is indeed charged with intensity, to the extent that not being one with the bush can be consuming at times...














But part of me has since accepted that we are complices in this bottom-World journey... that beauty cannot be consumed, assimilated nor possessed, but can nevertheless become an enlightening travel buddy along the way...








"Why do you live up there, you must be the saddest soul ever?". Lol nope, but am certainly happy that many associate desolation with melancholy, leaving us Northerners with this magnificent beauty to ourselves...




















TBH, it seems almost unfair to have this beauty tucked away from so many eyes to see... I feel privileged kind sir






Peace

Into the Wild

We consciously put ourselves in situations in which we thrive... Surrounding ourselves with trust ones, familiarity, walls, a routine, such is the destiny of most mortals, to be honest. But of course,





The first time that I engaged in the wild on a solo extended trip, was back in 1997 at the age of 20 in Chiliwack B.C.. After a few days by myself in the wild, concepts that are part of our social daily realm became strange, unreal... Time, space, reality, perception... All of which became relative, questionable... Numerous forces transcend us when facing the immensity of the bush, leaving us mesmerized, in awe, perhaps even perplexed...


Rarely am I struck by this uncanny feeling nowadays when I am in the heart of the bush : I simply let myself be immersed by its magnificence...





If I have been concerned by questions like our place in the world, the void, the purpose of life etc. since a young age, all these interrogations are put on halt when I find myself in the heart of desolation... I simply accept my insignificance, a mere dot in the massive macro system...

You see, the wild is what reunites us, Yukoners, this unspoken magnetism that brought us to these northern parts - Natives not withstanding. It is so intrinsic to our being that we don't bother discussing it anymore : we simply live it. And for most Yukoners, gold mining is the gateway to the heart of nature.




my buddy's claim, about 30km south of Dawson








Da Pokerz


Like attested in my Old Lady thread, the grind will constitute the core of my activities for the next 3 months with approximately 60h weekly dedicated to playing and studying. I do feel the fatigue settling in though, when it sporadically creeps up upon me at the end of some sessions... To the extent where I caught myself daydreaming of my free time this upcoming winter, which will be dedicated to meditation retreats (1 in B.C. and also Myanmar, most likely...) and working on a novel.


Writing


Slowly defining the outlines of the book to be... Curiously though, while I know what aspects of the gambling world I want to engage, I have not settled on a fix narrative just yet I probably will mix elements of fiction and non-fiction, gathering information and stories from various interviews to act as a factual source, but most likely spice up the latter with elements of fiction... To be continued


Run good all

Sedentary Drifter

The majority of mortals do not choose their homes. We are born within a certain country, family, social class, neighborhood and oftentimes do not dwell too far from these established references. Alternatively, a HUMANGOUS democratic first world country like Canada offers a myriad of possibilities to plant new roots, some of which can naturally blossom in the northern outskirts of civilization.











Sure, this geographic location acts as my chosen home, but not as some past references. Perhaps it is for this same reason that I never forget to look up on a daily basis, and cherish what surrounds me.








Or deep in the valley, slightly beyond the horizon, where is tucked all this surreal beauty...





Perhaps because I was not born and raised on this land, I forever remain an stranger to these surroundings, in awe by its beauty, constantly paying homage to its testimony... while some locals might let themselves naturally blend in, lost in its tangling roots of identity…





Winter is Coming


It seems as if my winter itinerary is slowing defining itself as follows : a meditation retreat in October in Vancouver, fly to Montreal to surprise my mom for her 70th birthday, fly into Europe (stop for 1 week and play a tournament?), back in da nang for the 3 months with the gf, 1 month of visa run/20 day meditation retreat/visit Myanmar and back in Vietnam for another 3 month stint. Yup, that sounds about right, at least for the time being...


Novel


When I get bummed out from my 55h weekly self-imposed grind, I remind myself that I will take it REALLY easy this upcoming winter, while only looking to make 2-3k/monthly (15-20h of poker weekly) and dedicating the core of my time to meditation, writing and chilling This said, the foundations of the novel to be are surely shaping itself, if not at a turtle pace

Here is what I am thinking (and WOULD LOVE SOME FEEDBACK ON THIS FOLKS) : I will attempt to dissect different aspects of the gambling world, while throwing in elements pertaining to both a fictional and non-fictional narrative... Heh Here me out here folks Not only will I try to zoom in on the different microcosms that constitute the gambling universe (chapters dedicated exclusively to the brick and mortar casinos, slot machines, blackjack, roulette, poker, management, profit numbers, online gambling etc.), but I will also punctuate the latter with degenerate stories, prostitution, drugs, alcohol, massive gambling swings, expats after Black Friday etc. You follow my grip? I will attempt to create a somewhat solid frame of what constitutes a casino (by researching stats, gathering interviews from dealers, pit bosses, doormans (from Dawson and Asia)), while progressively instilling these foundations with lively stories (based on interviews made). Sounds interesting? Any ideas folks? Comments? I don't know, but thats what I have gathered so far (which is not a lot, I concede ).

Run good all

Awsome blog man :>

I'm missing montreal :l it's such a nice atmosphere + lots to do (for me at least)

Montreal > NY by far...

Wish i grew up there, sadly i can't stay there for a year+ otherwise i would.

SlowRolling Life

As much as I wanted to regularly post in this thread, it just will not be happening. For the next year. Destinations like Dawson, Vancouver, Montreal and Vietnam have simply been somewhat exhausted ITT ; albeit, my stops in Europe and Myanmar will be interesting for the new material it will provide... In the meantime, lets continue on the outdoorsy-Yukon-pic-trend of late :




I mean, I have seen similar mountains/lagoon-like lakes in B.C., but never without somewhat a herd of tourists in the viscinity...




Enuf said




So typically Yukoner : abandonded vehicles, unused like a forgotten vestige...





On a more personal level, I have defeated the taxman Me. All. Alone. But he shouldn't be knocking at the door anytime soon, Big Brother permit Which highy contributes to my ever going run good and dodging a potentially abrupt downswing



Thx man Montreal is indeed the nut city for the 18-30 age group to live in ; I am definitely lucky to have had the opportunity to indulge so freely into everything the city had to offer until the age of 22 (when I left for Western and then Northern Canada)

I can't remember if you mentioned it in your thread, but what is the main reason for you spending time in NY right now? Is it for the grind? And if so, how did you found these underground games? Anyhow man, best of luck and thx for following


Run good all

In the Beginning

Where does it all come from... Where did it originate...




Roughly 14 billion years ago - give or take a few seconds -, matter, antimatter and dark matter emerged somewhat symmetrically from the Big Bang, creating the universe and life as we know it.





But why? How did all this beauty come to be?





If it all came to light from some sort of underlying void, wouldn't an omniscient eternal vacuum be mathematically more probable then the ensuing matter, antimatter and dark matter that materialized... Or, in binary terms, wouldn't a resounding 0 (nothingness) be more logical than its 1 (universe) counterpart...





But perhaps the void should not be viewed as diametrical opposite to life itself... Perhaps, the void was as much a probable outcome as life itself, both of which figuring as equal variables in an transcending equation not yet made intelligible for us, mere mortals...





Perhaps the void interacts with life much as pure randomness always underlines the apparent order of the universe...




Peace

I think a novel, if done well, would certainly be interesting. We are used to all the "characters" on the Travel forum, but if you think about it, a lot of the characters in the expat-gambling world are very unique, conflicted, and engaging. The dramas and plots write themselves!

Winter is Coming

Not only are the season ending tournaments just a couple of weekends away, but the preemptive colours are popping up along the Dempster Highway :











Dempster Highway, this lone dirt road leading to the northern tip of Canada, in the North-West Territories, has acted as my weekly camping getaway over the past month.








I will once again go up the Dempster in a few hours, timing it so that the bloody-red-sanguine-sunrise shines light upon my 1 hour drive...





thx for the feedback man I will definitely put a ton of in my upcoming novel and make sure of its sound quality.

Even if highly successful sales would come as an absolute surprise, my targeted readers are a mix of outsiders interested in the gambling world and, of course, 2 + 2ers. There will be a few chapters on the Asian expat/sexpat life, but acting more as a factual description/entertaining introduction to that lifestyle, than using the hookers and blow scene as the motor driving the action. I guess that after making briefly my way through the limited terrain that is the gambling literature - me thinks -, I want to humbly add my own perspective to the canon. Anyhow, hope that you guys will read it once it is released


Run good all

3 Little Birds

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaGUr6wzyT8

"Rise up this mornin'
Smiled with the risin' sun
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true"

Bob Marley, 3 Little Birds

Nelson B.C., August, 1998. Even tucked underneath this bridge, the rising sun manages to caress my body with its golden warmth ; a few steps away, a few little birds are happily chirping, giggling like the little fellows that they are, in this simple manifestation of life... It all makes sense. The sun. The birds. The wind. Life. This moment. My place in it.

Our ride dropped us out here late last evening, just by the bridge, protecting us from potential rain or scrutinous eyes (not that we have more than 50$ on us, me and this French girl I have just recently randomnly met in the Okanagan Valley, but better to sway on the safe side of things, right...). We are hitching our way back to Quebec, but couldn't pass the opportunity of visiting the hippie epicentre that is Nelson and the Slokane Valley, this area hosting a multitude of lost souls desperately trying to find an existential purpose. But for now, none of it matters. Not the anger, the depression, the hole that is our modern society ; all that counts are these darn tiny jolly birds, this golden morning and the happiness that ensues ; the little things, you know, the little things... Ohhhh the serenity of slowing down one's system in a Zen-like fashion, to casually slide outside of oneself and simply the appreciate the miracle that is life... But, alas and a thousand times alas!, when I get back to Montreal, it all comes back : the drinking like no tomorrow until the depression and anxiety settles in...


Like an unnoticed guest, Autumn has comfortably settled in, sprinkling its colourful touch here and there.





The little things, you know, the little things... Like the yellow, orange and red, entangled in a myriad of a rainbowish sparkles, forever reminder us of the passing seasons, years...








Talked to a dear friend that just turned 70 this year, and he shared how it doesn't take much in his twilight years to be happy... A simple coffee by the river running by his house, overflows him with serenity








One last week in Dawson of grinding and having dinners with friends before heading down south for a mediation retreat in Vancouver, 1 week out east visiting the family in Montreal and then overseas in Vietnam. Really looking forward to grinding much, much, MUCH less this winter and hence replacing it by writing, more chilax time and meditation, yo I will eventually link the introduction to my novel over here folks,


Run good all

Seasonal Cycles

15 times I have been through the Yukon-Vancouver-Montreal-Asia/Latin America yearly loop, so perhaps my lack of excitement this time around is a direct consequence of this repeated frequency... Or perhaps my almost 40 years spent in this bottom world has gradually instilled me with peace, acceptance and serenity... Nonetheless, here are a few pics of the 2016 version of the trip down :




Another fall day in Van




Hummm, are we in Canada or in Asia




While this place looked great when I first booked it online, stepping inside offered no more than tiny rooms with thin walls in a residential neighbourhood...




Ended up hear after the meditation retreat when I followed some newly acquainted friends ; if this use to be my scene 10+ years ago, I have certainly grew out of it

Spoiler:

there was a hippie chick dancing naked, but I didn't get a photo of her

My 7 days here will be split in between family time, friends, running some errands and grinding 1 night at Le Casino de Montreal, and then am off to Vietnam again.


Run good all

Spliced Dimensions

Well that was fun : After surprising my mom on the day of her 70th for an overall unexpected (for her) 7 day stint in Montreal, we sprint out, my Dad and I, towards the airport, tailing the urban traffic, putting on the pressure, trying by all means to swift our way through, to pass, outthink, outmanoeuvre the Monday grinders ; but, alas!, our plans to conquer the world go haywire when the breakdown of a 12 wheeler costs us an additional 45 minutes (probably 30 minutes in equity




google pic


; we fly by the airport, cramp on the brakes, rush to the Air Canada counter only to have an an absolute-entitled-first-class-menopaused-biitch extend my delay by forcing my hand into buying an ongoing ticket to Myanmar ; survive the 20h flight to Chicago/Hong Kong (kind of tilting isn't it to fly south to Chicago, only to loop back up north to the Yukon/Alaskan and cross over the Bering Sea ) finally arrive at the Hong Kong airport, a mere 2h flight away from HCMC, when my passport gets apprehended while I was innocently browsing online





You see, we forget about those gazillion of times we run good in life, dodging those 0.01 & 0.001% life bad beats like a mama-fracking Hellmuth We feel naturally entitled to this daily Sunrun until that inexorable runner-runner perfect hits us, that is

With all the lost innocence in the world, my passport was sitting on the seat besides me along with the remainders of my lunch ; I did not hence think much about it when the cleaning lady asked me "are you done with this?". I simply acknowledged, not bothering to look up from my computer screen. If one had been blessed with a sky high level of awareness insofar as to not be affected whatsoever by the past 24h+ of flying/transits, he would of looked up, smiled to the old lady, grabbed the passport and securely tucked it within his legs by his crouch, you know... Nonetheless, it is not insanely -EV not to do so : one is simply hit with ultra bad variance when he turns to grab his passport 30 minutes later, only to find himself utterly shaken by an unexpected sentiment of loss... Happily, I did not let this emotion overwhelm me by quickly reminding myself that my negligence was close to neutral EV.

We indeed forget to regularly tap ourselves on the shoulder, to say "hey buddy, you are running good today ; you did not get into a car accident, you did not get run over while crossing the street or perhaps trip on your own feet and end down a bottomless stairway ".




Hong Kong airport


Thankfully, within 2h, we located the cleaning lady, rushed to the gate and embarked on the plane just before the doors shut Would of nonetheless not been a huge downswing though, as I would of most likely been able to replace the passport within 2-3 days at a modest cost on top of not pre-booking my HCMC hotel or Da nang flight. It would of nevertheless been a hassle to provide all the required documentation to the Canadian embassy while stuck within the confines of the Hong Kong airport...

On the + side, am quite happy to have been pressured into purchasing a ticket for Burma, hence knocking off my bucket list one of the last SEA "must see" attraction


Looking forward to establishing a new schedule over here, which will look something along these lines :

- 10 am : Rise and shine yo
- 11 am : 1h of meditation.
- Noon : After grabbing a light breakfast, charge into the outside world with some intensive running - albeit a very short distance - to the beach/or play some tennis.
- 1 pm : Grab lunch, a couple of smoothie/coffees, write for a couple of hours within the comfortable confines of a coffee shop.
- 3 pm : Come back home for a few hours of grinding, yo
- 6 pm : spend time with gf going out for food, to the beach and/or watching a movie.
-11 pm : Grind part 2 or write, depending on mood (I feel that I might choose the former for the next couple of months and the latter once 2017 kicks in. I have no urgent need to earn/save money nor do I have the intention of finishing my novel this winter, so simply will go with the flow yo )
- 1 am : Decompress with 1h of meditation and some late night writing/reading/studying.
- 3 am : Sleep-sleep.

Sounds just about right, doesn't it, just about right...


Run good all

Beyond the Horizon

Montreal, August, 1993. Have you ever opened a peculiar door, one which leads into a reality diametrically opposite to ours... The first time I took acid, it ineluctably opened a breach into uncanny, unchartered territories...

-"I think it is kicking in",

I say to my substance-experienced buddy ; he nonchalantly riposts

-"believe me, you will know when the trip kicks in.".

Boy was he right : my senses are suddenly frantically animated, triggered by every mere stimulus sent my way... And within this sensational explosion, the world almost appears upside down, fragmented, as if the laws of physics have momentarily lost all form of authority... All that I have grown to accept as certainty in my brief 16 years stint in this bottom world thus far, seems clouded, eclipsed, almost an illusion...


“Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Heres Tom with the Weather.”

Bill Hicks


And what if I never come back from this journey...





It is in 2003 that I open yet again a new door into a mystifying realm : I join my first 10 day vipassana meditation retreat. The new dimension is so vast that it leaves me floating into some sort of void, struck with an unprecedented severe case of vertigo The gateway not only unlocks the deepest inner corners of my soul, but allows my demons to come up to the surface. And boy did they ever do so.








Coming into this winter, there are 3 areas upon which I plan on dedicating my energy :

Poker : Taking most of October off from the grind has rejuvenated my love for the game Enough so, that I been taken much pleasure into my daily 4h of grind/28h weeks It does help to be on a steady upswing while handily beating 200z Coupled with the fact that rake is once again going up in 2017, I have been taking a last shot at some healthy RB deals

Writing : Have been slacking in this department though Am simply not feeling the inspiration... Not a huge concern, mind you, as I need much less motivation for writing than I do for studying poker As soon as 2017 kicks in, I will dedicate at least a couple of hours daily for writing my novel.

Meditation : The plan was to originally go do a 20 day course in Myanmar (20 day is a more advanced course consisting of serious students only, with 12h everyday dedicated to silent meditation), but it is only offered at the end of May (there is a course in Thailand in January)... I have already purchased a plane ticket for Burma, but might toss it in favour of Thailand... or stay here in Vietnam and simply extend my visa... or even play the WPT in Cambodia... Time will tell, I guess...


Alright, here are a few pics for you folks :





Back in Da nang




Where I will be getting around on these healthy wheels




And having some beach time, of course This one at the far end of town, where the fishermen hang out





Peace all

And send a ton of love to the American minority folks whose lives just got that much more nightmarish after yesterday's elections

Golden Footprints

Jaisalmer, India, 2003. I have been loitering for 5h per day in the desert. Roaming. Reading. Meditating. Being one with myself. Enough to get the hotel manager, where I am sleeping underneath the naked stars on the highest rooftop of the fortress at 5$/night, wondering about the purpose of my daily wanderings in such a wasteland...

- "I love the peace of the desert",

I simply state, not wanting to expand furthermore on the subject. How to explain the peace of lost echoes... The abandoned footprints... the vanished whispering souls, blowing in the wind... The golden desolation reflected in the midst of the desert... The reverberating silence... Nah, no words can... So I simply smile, walk away, confined within the limits of my own frame of reference.

In the evening, when the dusk has finally settled and only memories remain of the sun bleeding its last drop, I can hear the resonating echo of the dogs rising from the fort : it is their time. We each get our own moment to claim ; for dogs, it is just past the twilight, when the masters are sleeping.

"dogs they roam
remember where their home is
everyone they meet
chase away their enemies
hang out in the shade
always in the shade...

dogs they rule the night!
they rule the night
dogs they rule the night!"

Porno for Pyros

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qnURMLKROvo


When we found out that my gf unexpectedly had Sunday off, it didn't take long before reserving a motorbike, booking a hotel online, packing the bags and hitting the road, Jack




Night market










Been running good as far as the weather goes : sunny when off the grind, rainy when on







Something very picturesque and gloomy about this one… my favourite pic this year


Finally made up my mind on the destination for my visa run : will be going to Thailand to attend the 20 day retreat It will be a fly in, close my eyes for 12h/day, 20 days straight, fly out adventure Which means that my initially planned trip in Myanmar will take the side, my flight ticket, the garbage. Oh well, I choose to focus on writing and meditation over leisure this winter...


Run good all