I decided not to fight, or rather the opportunity was only mentioned in passing. I'm a bit relieved that I'm not fighting again this week. Fighting out here makes me nervous, more nervous than at home. Before my fight I had trouble sleeping, not something that happens to me anymore when I fight at home. The thought of my poor cranium being split open ran through my mind along with a variety of other gruesome potential situations.
Yesterday I went shopping sort of. I'm picking up a bunch of equipment for my gym and went to several different shops pricing supplies. I'm going to get a fighter robe made along with picking up a half dozen thai pads, shin guards, etc. It should be a lot of shit. Hopefully it will all come with bags to bring stuff home in.
I'm set to go to Ayuttyah on tuesday. I'm pretty stoked. I have just four more days of training as well which is nice.
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Everything involving the sphere of loss --- that is, what I have lost of myself, the time that has gone; and disappearance, flight and the general evanescence of things, and even what in the prevalent and therefore most vulgar social sense of time is called wasted time – all this finds in that strangely apt old military term, lost children.
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