inee

Once upon a time Inee was a weaver in Kampot.

She wove cotton and studied English at PTC, a training center. She met Orphan. He was passing though. He helped her with educational resources.

He passed through years later. They met again. They were estatic to see each other. 

She'd graduated from PTC and worked at a real estate company.

I study electricity at a local university, she said. I teach Khmer to foreigners. My plan is to attend university this fall. I will study to be an accountant and a teacher.

Great, said Orphan, I am so pleased. You're doing fantastic. Realize your dreams.

free speech

Grill your usual suspects
while eating chicken with shredded
lettuce not have this conversation in the abstract.

Loudspeakers resembling Lenin Park in Hanoi blare in Giresun, Turkey.
Attention Comrades!
Journalists, lawyers and acti-visits in Turkish jails, prisons and poems file your briefs.
A woman speaks about behavior control systems designed with sparkling syllables.

Children memorize grammar rules. Pass the examination.
Life is the BIG test.
It is multiple choice.

Silverman polishes red stones
semi-precious hands whisper secrets 
a baker removes loaves from ovens 
fish hawkers wash ice
life sea streams.

Bread aromas float past women selling cabbages bigger than lost children. 
A beautiful mute-deaf woman in Cambodia scrubs foreign laundry.
She dances until she dies.
Her life dance is a slow meandering death of loneliness and heartbreak and silence.

It is the dry season in Khmer civilizations as leaders across a porous border
sell forests to Vietnam furniture and toothpick factories.
Chinese developers purchase the country for $16.9 billion and counting
The National Museum in Siem Reap is 50% owned by Thailand.

Buy a ticket.

Black Sea is green and blue.
Eat dreams with fresh yogurt minus anxiety. 
Cultivate silence

Amazon women live on an island off the Giersun coast.
They visit the Turkish residency permit authorities.

If you want to play you have to pay, said Authority.
They cut off their right breast.

Arrows of time.
Bullseye! 
Everything is permitted. It's already happened.

 

they went shopping

after 9/11 to satisfy their fear of poverty to overcome their fear, a small fear growing stronger day by day being fed by hysterical know-it-alls in 24/7 media ivory soap towers of higher intellectual reasoning based on empirical evidence.

“More channels!” someone screamed. “We need more channels!” There was a preponderance of rumors. Mucho evidence was charred beyond recognition. It would need DNA analysis and carbon-14 dating.

According to Ahmed with the gift of foresight, “Teams of social workers swarmed across Earth extolling virtues of well being, hope, trust, and bravery in the face of adversity, values, free choice, and impending sales at outlet stores.

"People seeking outlets and outlet stores found solace in their ignorance of how the world worked on molecular, political, religious, economic, philosophical, and cultural levels. Long festering animosity and cultural bias had come full circle. An invisible Orobus constricted their heart. Their myth was part idealism and realism standing on its head.

"Socially, culturally, geographically and emotionally deprived children listened, shaking their heads, learning a very hard life lesson. One that escaped their well meaning parents. Kids knew when adults were bullshitting them.

(Kids had a built-in shock proof shit detector.)

"Scholars educated at global universities started speaking Arabic, reciting Sufi poetry and 1,001 stories about the rise and fall of civilizations written before their time with hieroglyphics and cave paintings. Survivors filled caves. Candles sales were brisk.

“A tisket a tasket we need a casket,” sang multi-lingual children.

"Historians, political scientists, talk show experts, taxi drivers, fortune tellers, beauticians, and morticians took hotline calls. The number of callers increased exponentially. Suicide search and rescue teams were put on alert. Citizens packed hospital emergency rooms. Medical schools increased graduation classes to meet the growing need. Demand outstripped supply when it came down to fear and consumption."

Source: A Century is Nothing

three kinds of people

there are three kinds of people in the world, said a boy holding his heart in his hands

sitting on a cambodian tourist town corner disguised

as the Street of Impossible Dreams...

his mother, cut off at the knees cradled an infant.

sex was her DUTY.

she performed well.

she produced more off-spring.

she was well seasoned. 

more tools. economic tools.

daddy was long gone.

it was a 125cc motorcycle culture

putt-putt, zoom, roar, rumble, dance cylinders. grind my hormonal gears, baby.

genius boy said:

people who make things happen.

people who watch people make things happen.

people who don't know what the fuck is going on.

yeah, yeah, yeah is my complete unabridged vocabulary. 

there are no rules

I didn't write the rules. Why should I follow them? - W. Eugene Smith, photo essayist.

Lens: Visual journalism.

A Nepalese man breaks rocks in Bandipur.

Music is the fuel at a Tibetan resettlement village outside Pokhara, Nepal.