Waves, going up and down, the colors of their crests changing from a light grey to absolute blackness, I feel like rolling down a mountain slope...flashes of lighning shooting through the inside of my skull, fireballs exploding soundlessly...
I try to open my eyes but a sharp light forces me to close them again - if ever I managed to open them at all - a red colored bright light behind my closed eye lids...maybe a complete white heaven above me shadowed over by a female shape...maybe my latest bar fee lady and the weird feelings inside my Farang gray brain mass a result of all the whiskey I consumed last night in one of the dubious bars down on Walking Street...
But no, wait a frigging minute, I ain't back in Pattaya enjoying the little pleasures of life in the f*cked-up life of a confirmed bachelor from the "rich" west trying to drink his sadness with life itself away with copious amounts of cheap Thai Mekhong Whiskey, paying bar fees for good looking Thai Yings that I have no serious interest in but just trying to throw away my hard earned dough and unwilling to face the solitary darkness of the dreaded morning after...better I find a warm female body next to me when waking up to nurse me through the pains of mourning, mourning over the messy death of another one of her contemporaries...
I wonder how many times I had Moo in my room, waking up to her beautifull young Asian body wrapped in one of these ridiculous orange colored hostel provided towels, holding her in my arms and listening to her light snoring while trying hard to ignore the pains of whiskey induced hangovers...
Now I wish I was back in that time, Moo still in this sorry world and my head heavy with the aforementioned morning after whiskey pains, but no mourning aches that somehow seem so much more serious....
But no, I wake up in my own house in Amsterdam where the walls are covered woith my own produced art, portrets of ladies of the night the world over, Thai newspaper pages full with colorfull Asian nude females in acrylics covering the shit that screams at me from the front page of the Bangkok Post...
Making my way to the bathroom while carefully avoiding glass jars with dirty water and old brushes, weights that are supposed to keep me healthy and my muscles strong, a plate with the left-overs from a Chinese Bami Take-away...
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