Weed in the cracks

Does the title sound drugged enough? – I had a deranged-looking guy trying to sell me hashish today….

I sort of understand why this place strikes a chord with me – there is an awful lot of pollution, filth, dust, mountains of garbage, rotting food, the houses are falling apart, the roads are disintegrating, and I had never seen such miserable human wrecks before. But you need to dig up something nice and peaceful from this seemingly hopeless desert of decay. My life sometimes also feels like an emotional field of rubble as well…. difficult to find anything positive. And then suddenly you enter another district, and it gets better, and you can kind of forget and ignore everything that made you want to escape asap.

Similarly to Yangon, on the ruins of all, everything is for sale, not just tourist stuff, though these pics are of course from the old town district. Vendors, it’s like the weeds growing in all the cracks and crevices, with the uncrushable will to live and survive, not just lie down and surrender. Maybe I’m getting it all wrong, back to front, inside out, but it’s always this impression I get in the poorer towns and cities of Asia.

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