burma native persimmon I think of the guards at the border, the man I gave 50 บาท for moldy slippers in the side alley thick with mud, all eyes on my skin - bustling women take the rare opportunity to be amused, laden children give a disinterested glance, and the men who are idle query me, "Where you from, lady, where you go?" 070930 ... flux "when there's nothing else left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire" 070930 what's it to you? who go blather from