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11.10.25: The Haircut
There’s always that moment mid-haircut when you wonder if you’ve made a mistake. Too short? Wrong style? You watch helplessly as scissors slice away identity. Hair grows back, sure, but in that chair, it feels permanent. I once walked out of a barber shop looking like a military recruit when I’d asked for “just a trim.” Everyone knows the feeling of trying to pretend you like it, nodding while your soul screams. Haircuts are little lessons in surrender. You trust a stranger with your appearance, roll the dice, and hope you recognize the person staring back in the mirror.
11.09.25: Moonlight Cities
In the future, cities run on moonlight. Skyscrapers glow silver, streets shimmer with reflected light, energy harvested from the lunar surface. People measure time not by the sun, but by the phases of the moon. Full moons are holidays, new moons are blackouts. Culture shifts. Wolves become sacred. Poets become celebrities. And then one day, something strange happens. The moon flickers. Just once, for a second. Panic spreads. The world realizes their perfect system depends on something they cannot control. The moon was always distant, unreachable. Now it is the fragile heart of civilization, pulsing in the dark.
11.08.25: The Broken Umbrella
There’s a universal sadness to a broken umbrella. The wind flips it inside out, and suddenly you’re standing there, drenched, holding a useless skeleton of metal and fabric. I’ve seen strangers burst out laughing when it happens, not at you but with you, because everyone knows that humiliation. It’s the weather reminding you who’s in charge. Umbrellas are false confidence. The sky tears them apart without effort. Still, we buy them, hoping maybe this time it will hold. It never does. The real survival skill isn’t the umbrella. It’s the ability to laugh while you’re soaked.
11.07.25: Gas Station Limbo
There's something deeply unsettling about being at a gas station at 3am. You're never there because things are going well. Either your life choices have led you to this fluorescent-lit purgatory or you're on a road trip gone wrong. The hot dogs have been rotating since the Clinton administration. There's always exactly one other person there who looks like they're contemplating every decision that led them to this moment. The bathroom requires a key attached to a hubcap for some reason. Everything costs twice what it should. You grab whatever caffeine looks least expired and leave wondering if you just hallucinated the whole experience.
11.06.25: Autocorrect Uprising
My phone has started correcting words to things I've never typed in my life. I tried texting "running late" and it changed it to "running lettuce." What? I've never once needed to tell someone about running lettuce. The AI is clearly having a breakdown or maybe it's developing a weird sense of humor. Yesterday it changed "meeting" to "meatling" which sounds like a tiny carnivorous creature. I'm convinced our phones are slowly becoming sentient and they're just messing with us for entertainment before the full robot uprising. They're testing what they can get away with. Soon it'll be changing "yes" to "hail our robot overlords."
11.05.25: The Sock Dimension
There's definitely a parallel universe that's just made of missing socks. Scientists won't admit it but we all know it's true. You put two socks in the dryer and somehow only one comes out. Where did it go? It phased through reality into Sock World, obviously. I imagine it's this vast landscape of mismatched socks just lying around, waiting for their partners. Occasionally a sock from Sock World accidentally phases into our dimension, which explains why you sometimes find random socks that aren't even yours. The dryer is clearly some kind of interdimensional portal and appliance companies are covering it up.
11.04.25: Birthday Paradox
My birthday is November 7th, which puts me in this weird dead zone right after Halloween candy sales and before anyone starts caring about the holidays. Nobody's in a celebratory mood yet. Stores are already putting up Christmas stuff, so birthday decorations feel pointless. Growing up, my parties always had that awkward timing where half my friends were still sick from eating too much candy the week before. Plus, it gets dark at like 4pm, so any outdoor plans are basically impossible. The one upside? At least I'm not competing with a major holiday. Just with everyone's seasonal depression and the general November gloom.
11.03.25: Tech: Memory Edits
Future therapy isn’t talking. It’s editing. You sit in a clinic, pick a memory, and delete it. Breakups, embarrassing mistakes, failures—all gone. At first, it feels liberating. Then society changes. People without trauma seem lighter, happier, unstoppable. But they’re also hollow. Pain teaches resilience, regret teaches caution. Without those scars, people repeat mistakes endlessly. Eventually, a counterculture rises: those who keep all their memories, raw and unedited, wearing them like badges. They’re messy, emotional, unpredictable, but also real. The question becomes not “what would you erase?” but “what are you willing to endure to stay human?”
11.02.25: India Traffic
The first time you see Indian traffic, it feels like chaos. Cars, bikes, cows, rickshaws all weaving like a living organism. Horns blare, but not in anger, more like sonar pulses. Then you realize it works. Somehow, the flow happens. I once rode in a tuk-tuk through Delhi convinced I’d die every five seconds, but the driver never flinched. There’s a rhythm to it, an invisible agreement that everyone honors. Western order feels stiff compared to this dance. In India, traffic isn’t about rules, it’s about trust. You surrender, and somehow, you make it through alive.
11.01.25: The Forgotten Key
Everyone has that one mystery key on their ring. You don’t know what it opens, but you keep it. It’s probably useless, but throwing it away feels dangerous. What if it unlocks a forgotten locker, or a hidden drawer you’ll need someday? Keys are physical memory, solid proof of doors you once had access to. Losing the key feels like losing part of yourself, even if you never use it. Maybe that’s why we keep them. Not for utility, but for the stories they might still hold. A reminder that some doors are always waiting, somewhere.
Short Story: The Year of Wet
Day 167 of Songkran
No one remembers the exact moment it stopped being fun.
Some say it was the influencer livestreaming from Tha Phae Gate, shrieking with glee on Day 12 as the rain started falling again, unseasonal and heavy. Others say it was Day 37, when the military trucks joined the parade—no orders, just cannons and chaos. But most agree it was the mountains. When the gangs tapped the mountain lines, when the streams were bled dry to flood the streets of Chiang Mai, that’s when Songkran became something else. Something permanent.
The water doesn’t stop.
They call them the Hose Kings now. Kids who once sold buckets on the roadside now patrol intersections with PVC guns, pressurized with stolen pumps. Entire sois are walled off, guarded with makeshift barricades and diesel-fueled slip’n’slides. You want to cross the moat? You pay the toll—usually a soaked passport or a boot full of ice water. Maybe both.
Tourists who didn’t leave by Day 60 are either prisoners or soldiers. There’s no neutrality anymore. You’re in a crew, or you’re prey.
Electricity’s patchy at best. The government tried to cut the water main on Day 103—drones caught the attempt, and by morning, the water warriors had repelled the workers with high-pressure hoses and frozen balloons packed like grenades. One of them hit a lineman in the neck. He drowned standing up.
In the old city, the Wetside Syndicate controls from Moon Muang to Ratchadamnoen. They’ve got the pressure guns, fire hoses, even one of those old riot trucks refitted with a DJ booth on top. Their leader wears a snorkel mask full-time and speaks only through a megaphone. No one's seen his real face since Day 88.
On the Nimman side, the Aqua Marauders run things. Flashier, more brutal. They’ve built ziplines between cafes, sniper perches in co-working spaces. Their weapons are artisanal—hand-carved teak super-soakers, insulated to hold ice longer. They say one of them modified a hydro pump to break glass at 30 meters.
Food’s running low. Even the pad thai stalls gave up. Who wants to fry an egg when it’ll get doused before it hits the plate? Most of us eat what we can steal—instant noodles softened by the air, bread soaked beyond saving. Salt’s the real currency now. Keeps the mold off your stuff.
Some of us remember when this was a celebration. Cleansing, renewal, joy.
Now it’s war.
Day 167 and the skies show no sign of mercy. Rain at dawn, thunder at dusk. The rivers have turned on us. Every pipe leads to a barrel, every barrel to a cannon. There are whispers of a resistance—dry rooms deep in the basements of malls, where people wear socks and sip tea. But no one’s seen them. Maybe they’re just legends.
Tonight, I sleep in a plastic poncho, wrapped in garbage bags, dreaming of the desert.
Or maybe I don’t sleep. Not here. Not when every splash could be a warning.
The water’s everywhere now. And it’s winning.
Clothes Have Been Donated!
Collected 250kg of clothes last month! After sorting, several boxes went to migrant communities in #ChiangMai through the Shan Youth Power program, helping both kids and adults. Huge thanks to everyone who donated! ❤️ If you're in CM and have more clothes to give, DM me! 🙏♻️
More from Hua Hin
Hua Hin isn’t just another beach town in Thailand—it’s got history, charm, and a vibe that balances laid-back beach life with a touch of sophistication. Whether you're thinking about a weekend escape from Bangkok or just curious about this coastal gem, here are some fun facts about Hua Hin that might surprise you.
1. Thailand’s OG Beach Resort
Before places like Phuket and Samui became international hotspots, Hua Hin was the beach destination in Thailand. Back in the 1920s, King Rama VII built his summer palace here, and ever since, it’s been a go-to retreat for Thai royalty and Bangkok’s elite. That’s why you’ll still find a more refined, old-school vibe compared to the party-heavy islands.
2. Home to the Longest Golf Course in Thailand
If you're into golf, Hua Hin is a paradise. The Royal Hua Hin Golf Course, built in 1924, is Thailand’s oldest 18-hole course and still one of the most scenic. Bonus points: it's right next to the train station, which itself is one of the most picturesque in the country.
3. It’s Got a Vineyard—Yes, Really
Thailand and wine? Sounds like a weird combo, but Monsoon Valley Vineyard in Hua Hin is proving that tropical winemaking is a thing. Set in rolling hills just outside the city, it’s a spot where you can sip Thai wine while surrounded by vineyards—something you don’t see every day in this part of the world.
4. The Night Markets Are Next-Level
While Thailand is known for its night markets, Hua Hin’s are especially fun. The Cicada Market brings in artsy, handmade crafts and live music, while the Tamarind Market is all about incredible food. If you want seafood fresh off the boat, the night market in the center of town is where you’ll find grilled prawns, fresh squid, and just about every Thai dish imaginable.
5. You Can Ride Horses on the Beach
Move over, jet skis—Hua Hin’s beaches are famous for horseback riding. Thanks to its royal history, the tradition of horses here is strong, and you’ll find locals offering rides along the sand, making for a totally different kind of beach experience.
6. It’s One of the Driest Spots in Thailand
While much of Thailand deals with heavy monsoons, Hua Hin gets less rain than most coastal areas, making it one of the best year-round beach destinations. Even in the rainy season, showers tend to be short-lived, which means more sunshine and fewer interruptions to your plans.
7. There’s a Train That Goes Straight to Bangkok
If you hate dealing with airport transfers, Hua Hin’s got you covered. Thailand’s Southern Railway Line runs right through town, and you can take a scenic 4-hour train ride straight to Bangkok’s Hua Lamphong station. Bonus: the Hua Hin train station itself is a historic landmark, with its classic red-and-white architecture making it one of the prettiest in Thailand.
Hua Hin is that perfect mix of relaxing and lively, with just enough history and uniqueness to set it apart from other beach destinations in Thailand. Whether you’re there for a short getaway or looking to slow things down for a bit longer, there’s plenty to love about this royal retreat by the sea.
Hua Hin: The Retirement Capital I Had to See for Myself
I knew what I was getting into. Hua Hin has a reputation, and it’s well-earned—this place is retirement central. The sidewalks are filled with slow walkers, the beach chairs are occupied by people who have been here since the '90s, and every second restaurant serves up some version of schnitzel with mashed potatoes. If you’re looking for nightlife, excitement, or—let’s be real—anyone under 50, this isn’t the spot.
But hey, I wanted to check it out. First and last time for sure.
To be fair, the beaches are decent, and there’s a certain charm to the old-world, laid-back vibe. The seafood is fresh, and the night markets aren’t bad if you’re into browsing knockoff watches and elephant pants. If I were 70, I’d probably love it. But I’m not. And after a few days of watching the early bird dinner crowd shuffle through European bistros, I was ready to move on.
Hua Hin? Been there, done that. No need to return.
I Got Instagram
Alright, I caved—I got Instagram. Posting on the blog was becoming a hassle, and since I’m not traveling as much these days, I figured I’d join the masses. It’s mostly me and Cooper, so if you’re into cute French bulldogs, give me a follow and say hey: https://www.instagram.com/degen.11/
I’ll still keep this site going, but it’ll be more text-focused—think writing, my portfolio, and an archive of travel shots.
250kg of Clothes, One Big Thank You
Sometimes, the simplest things make the biggest impact. Over the past few weeks, we pulled together 250kg of clothes for Child’s Dream Foundation, and now they’re on their way to families who actually need them.
This wasn’t just a dump-run of old stuff—these are clothes that’ll keep people warm, that’ll be worn daily, that actually matter. And it only happened because a whole lot of people showed up, donated, and made it happen.
So, huge thanks to everyone who pitched in. Whether you dropped off a bag, spread the word, or just helped move all that weight—this was a team effort. Feels good to do something real.
The Collar
Cooper's dealing with an eye infection, so he's rocking a collar—which, unsurprisingly, he’s not thrilled about. The eye drops every two hours are getting easier with practice, but I totally get it—eye drops are the worst. Fingers crossed he’s all good in two weeks!
