A phsycho gambit in its entirety

Holland, Amsterdam,
16 Aug. 2010.

I have my daily coffee, my steaming cup of Java, in front of the Anne Frank House preparing myself for yet another day of selling this highly profitable and handmade Mandala game, having left my house earlier as usually, as always when I have my first cup of wake-up-mate of the day wondering about my hopelessly f*cked-up dream world, the realm of Lord Morpheus where last night it was Lord Buddha and his mistyrious smile that made me wake up time and again, confused and bodily exhausted...like there was a message involved there though it was the usual army of Hot Mommas besieging my fat wallet...

"I need talk you now, Hans"..."I need money quick, Hans, pay rent room"..."You like sex for free, Hans, Mai Pen Rai, Pom Tilak"..."Me like you too much, Hans, only little bit Baht for pay rent my darling Hans"...

But no, it were not my physical pursuits in far-away Thailand, the Phillipines or some other God-forgotten garbage belt where the local Hembras where willing like cats in heat but without a tomcat in plain sight, under-educated ladies of the night looking for a way to make ends meet, a phsycho gambit that in the end will end in disease and a certain death in Third World lands where medical attention is not as natural as in the Rich West...Yings for the grapping for those who can affort it but at the same time burdering your Karma...

Somehow it was Nada like that, not these ever recurring nightmares of the past where I was the architect of my own Karma, my own destruction of many lives yet to come...

My mental ponderings while slowly drinking my daily cafeine addiction are rudely interrupted by a mental voice inside my head...Nong after all these months of silence...."You listen me, Hans, better for you"..."You have chance now for make good Karma you"...

By the time I realise the importance she is already beyond me, at the end of the road, this other Pom Tilak, big love in my life, Amanda with little Charlotte on the back of her bike, cycling down the road and out of my life on this meagre sun-lit monday morning, not having seen them for nearly three years, walking out of their lives nearly five years ago soon after little Charlotte was born, realising I could never be a good father again, not after the father I was to the two Leuk Kreung babies I produced with Nong in that crazy mystic kingdom in far-away Asia all these years ago...

Mystic and weird to its very core with Nong's voice back inside my Farang skull the moment I see that other lady in my life cycling down the road with Little Charlotte on the back....that voice reminding me of how much my Karma is colliding with my ways, a phsycho gambit in its entirety