On Re-Entry and Reverse Culture Shock

It’s 7am and the sun is rising. There’s a heavenly glow spread upon the rock cliffs that overlook the Gulf of Thailand. I scaled that jagged scarp last night just to get here. Waves crash and a hazy vapor of saltwater rises from the water. The blurry-eyed party-goers sway their bodies in unison; deep house music has been pulsating throughout the entire island for a solid 18 hours now.