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"this world doesn't fight you, you fight yourself, thinking we fail you, you fail yourself"

You already know, I'm on vacay since almost a week, so I owe you a good old full-on rant about this time. Here goes:

Right after visiting the installation I experienced my first esophageal arrest. :! Went to a small diner in the same street and pointed on what looked like decent vegetable soup on the menu. When the waitress double asked something to, like, make sure I really wanted (just!?) that it, I didn't give it any further thought since the price seemed about right for a single person serving. Sat down, got my bowl. Soup looked delish, but fuck damn, it hat those squishy blobs in it I saw at some backstreet market the other time. There they had huge table-filling slabs of that stuff lying about. Kinda looks like grease or solidified rice water and it's wobbly like Wackelpudding. Anyways, I noticed it was supposed to be taken as a side dish to rice and/or other stuff. But since I wasn't too keen on eating it from the start but am the most polite tourist and don't want be too picky, I gave it a shot to gobble down a few chunks.

Yuck, what in tarnation? The soup was quite hot, making my lips tingle like a bullet ant's urinal. That by itself was a rather interesting sensation and way on the other end of annoying than those soap scum globs. I tried to chew each one or two times and then gulp them down quickly,  but one third in it dawned upon me that my body isn't fond of this. At all. And quickly. Shit was outright revolting, I had to fight hard not to throw up in my mouth. By doing that the soup's hotness triggered a coughing reflex and I gave into it. The stinginess spread all over my respiratory system, like someone shoved chili soaked nettles straight up my nostrils. Within seconds I teared up, blessing the fact that the guys sitting at the next table left just a minute before and nobody else came by the small room I was spazzing in. Did get the whole shit more or less under control by emptying the bottle of tea, rushed to the front, put what I owed into their palms and headed out.

Long story longer, that accursed rank haunted me for the rest of the day by inducing frequent burping which brought that god awful taste right back up every now and then. And I'm still warped, that type of sauce is very common and the flashbacks I get everytime I smell it still manage to let my guts twitch. Need to find a decent dish featuring that to overlay that memory.

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