When home is the scene of the crime.

Never really thought that this image would qualify as home but after being away for almost two weeks it feels just all too normal. Pub Street is the backpacker and tourist epicentre of Siem Reap, loaded with all things unrighteous and the scene of the crime for many bad decisions. I don't stop there but it's where I get dropped off because everybody knows where it is. I walk through and for that minute or two it's possible to just be lost in the fray of consumerist tourist privilege. Somehow that level of fucked up offers a level of backwards comfort, knowing that we're all so okay with our misconstrued idea of what is good. On the other side I squirrel down an alley and find my little haunts and sit with a drink and write things like this on napkins and receipt paper.

 

Siem Reap, Cambodia.