bUDDHIST nIRVANA OR MAYBE THE CHATOLIC VERSION OF HELL

Thailand, Pattaya,
25-01-2010.

Writing this I cannot help but imagine the thrill...when you read this blog today, tomorrow or days later, maybe even decades after my demise, or never will you know this, nor will you ever find me...I'll go to Buddhist Nirvana or maybe to the chatolic version of hell. I'll miss you there...

Sitting in tis local bus from Ekamalai to Pattaya my mind goes helter-skelter, tortured and punished by the images of my chaotic past, realising I'm on the wrong side of forty, estranged from my Dutch family though having a stupid sister still living in the rural deep south of Holland who keeps ending me stupid E-mails asking even more stupid questions she already knows the answer to, a lone and crazed man trapped between two distinctly different cultures, a s*x tourist or a genuinely caring person helping out ladies of the night, Thai Hot Mommas with dreams full of hope but in the latter days of their professional life lost in between the hopeless.

According to Nong whom I had on my mobile last night and who always loves to analize my Farang Phi - soul you know - haunted by the spirits of my anchestry manifesting themselves in the ghostly images of local Hot Mommas, doggedly following my every food step but having no fear of the afterlife, a real life journey through the spirit world of love or maybe redemption, the sort of demons you won`t recognised untill they are standing right next to you - and according to Nong whose sweet and melodious voice has never left my Farang gray brain mass from the moment we first met, that will be the moment of my death.

Outside the opaque window of my bus the Bangkok skyline glides by, leaving behind these gigantic skyscapers - I like to think of them as skyCRAPPERS instead - monuments to the Thai obsession with concrete, reminding me of the slums and shanty towns of the bangkok I remember from my earlier visits in the late eighties, chinese flophouses and little Sois full with life where mothers used to wash there babies in water filled oildrums, where child molesters from the rich West would roam the streets in search of young boys unmolested by brown clad police...

The rowdy and dark bars that Jamie and HIS GANG OF HOODLUM MUAY THAY FIGHTERS would drag me along to, though poverty would rule in these days of pre-Farang mass tourism, nobody would ever go to bed on an empty Tompui - belly - courtesy of neighbors and family...

So, now I am on my way back to Pattaya...a strong temptation of the Thai notorious s*x industry or maybe my endless quest trying to understand this mysterious Asian nation....