Bangkok baby

The Thai speak another English. The taxi driver says Im beautiful. Bangkok does not look like a city from the highway. Foodstalls, temples, billboards float by without any order. A drunk Kiwi comes up to me to advice a bar I should go to. The woman in the store follows me softly when I search for noodles. The CBD comes closer, but a fluent skyline is absent. Roads are on five different levels. Hundreds of bahts flow through my hands. Thai faces without meaning to me decorate meterlong posters. I feel lost in translation.