TADIOTO

It’s 7:15pm.  In an hour I will hail a taxi and end my life in the US.

The flight is at 1am, via Taipei.  Hopefully, I am going home.

Thank you to all of you.  It’s been a hairy day – my motorcycle might get delivered to the shipper tomorrow.  No one at customs in Viet Nam will ask about the urns of ashes accompanying me.

It doesn’t matter that the visa is only for two months.  And not clearly one for a journalist.

Nothing matters. Everything matters.  Davia Nelson of the Kitchen Sisters just called.  Kevin Chen on Intersection for the Arts is walking around my empty apartment on Fillmore.  Someone’s moving out.  Someone’s moving in.

I miss you.