Archive for February 11th, 2020

Get this: I enter my daughter into the National Championships of the country where she was born. She is entered into the girls U-8 section, which I thought she’d find a cinch. Her results are here:
http://chess-results.com/tnr513631.aspx?lan=1&art=1

The bottom line is she just isn’t ready, losing one game in only 6 moves. I found it hard on many levels. I have hyper mania and have had it since my main accident on Oct 9th 2016. Instead of sleeping I am up all night sprinting down dark lanes listening to dark heavy metal. Then it’s a motorbike to where the temple is, a walk over a long bridge, a taxi ride, 21 stops on the skytrain and, a sprint across a major city junction -not the sort of start to a day of chess your opening moves should bear resemblance towards and care for a dependent daughter relishes.

Despite my rusted eyes, photography responsibilities came to the fore, but because the chief arbiter didn’t know me, I had to put him in his place. The organizer, an old playing partner, stopped him short and let me come and go as I pleased whilst all other parents were booted out about a minute before play began -leaving me to click away until the fatigue made my eyes too heavy. Here are some of the pics I took of my daughter.

With parenthood patience becomes a virtue. And on a lighter note, because I have hyper mania and never sleep, on the train between rounds I dropped and went right to the end of the line, fifteen stations past the one I was meant to alight -Pra Khanong, which means temple village by translation. The security guard had trouble waking me up. When I got booted off the train I was propa fucked – but miles away from where I needed to be made me laugh more than anything. The next day I nodded off on the train again but only went one station past where I was meant to alight this time. At least it gave me good reason to flirt with a super hot mum whose daughter played mine. Tough old five days that was, thankfully with it being a long holiday there were less muppets in the city.

A lot more work lies ahead and speaking of which, it’s 0340 and time for another run down down lanes with dark heavy metal blasting out the old eardrums. Only 4.32kms everyday with a 1.6 km bike ride. Nothing much but sorely felt during official events…

“The soul is healed by being with children.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

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