No where in the world is the light quite the same.
Warm moist air filtered the street rows of lights and
the florescence glowed like a carnival, neon and
dirt roads with the veil of motorcycle smoke.
A fantastic place to be. Wet air surrounding my body.
Priming it for the evening of debauchery or adventure.
When the fumes and dust settled a void interlude
made me sweat.
I was in another place and time and life would
never be the same. The party was over before it
began. My eyes coated with the lights of Saigon
My soul could never see things the same again.