Room #6, Jasmine Travelodge, Siam Reap. A rough dream.

One peaceful morning in Siam Reap I woke up puzzled smelling the wooden parquetry in a guesthouse. The night before the descendants of Aztecs beat the Persians 3-1 in Nuremberg Germany where Hitler staged vast Nazi rallies in the 20s. I, in Cambodia, thought I had slept over the tumultuous night in one of the many Vats of the once great empire, the Khmer.

I had a dream. A dream full of hatred and agony, betrayal and turmoil. Unwilling yet triggering. I have had my bewilderments and puzzlements towards stark ignorance questioned. Answers were as gone as the dream as I woke up, attempting to wipe out a drop of tear I anticipated yet absent.

I did not come here to seek for reconciliation of the many men inside me, nor liberating notorious evils or neaten any complex hassles in my mind. But I shall leave lucidly and calmly. Angers from betrayals left as good as smoke. Answers ain't important anymore.

I must have been enthused by ambitious King Suryavaman II or the malicious Pol Pot. As I watchfully yet determinedly climbed up the last yet steepest stairs, I thought the Gods of Mount Meru must have granted me vigor to say thank and say sorry, say hi and say bye, say love and say hate. No mercy, no cruelty.

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Check out the pictures. I had enjoyed the trip to Angkor Wat and its surrounding to a great extent. http://photos.yahoo.com/limcheecheng