I have been to Bangkok three times. I still cannot fully explain why. Each visit begins with the same resistance. The same noise. The same heat. The same feeling that the city is simply too much.

Bangkok does not invite. It insists. It presses forward and leaves little space to retreat. Too many people. Too many signals competing for attention. Too many moments happening at once. It feels exhausting before it feels familiar.

And yet, every time I leave, something stays unresolved. The city does not conclude itself. It leaves questions open. I find myself thinking about moments I did not photograph. Streets I passed without stopping. Faces that disappeared before I understood why they caught my attention.

By the second visit, the chaos feels less accidental. Patterns begin to appear. Movement has rhythm. Crowds know when to slow down and when to surge forward. What first looked like disorder reveals intention.

The third time, I noticed something else. Bangkok does not ask to be liked. It only asks to be experienced. The city works through repetition. You return not to discover something new, but to see differently.

That may be its magnet. Bangkok does not change much. You do.