Burma, ruby, Burmese politics, politics, gems

Nowadays the heat gets to me. Wasn't always that way. I used to enjoy it – revel in it. But no longer. Can't take the heat anymore. And right now it's hot. Very hot. Starts deep inside at the kernel, that storehouse of primal code and mad memories. I know when I enter. Perspiration seeps out like the trace from a jungle leech – only a single drop of blood as evidence of the bite. Next I know, I'm in a full-press sweat – red raining out. Forty-three years' old, I still crave warmth – need it like a junkie's fix – but no longer can stand where it takes me. And I'm writing this in a furnace. God, I wish the weather would change…