The Bangkok Experience - 002

Tag lines of prostitutes: I Know You! I Miss You! 

The Bangkok Experience - 001

An African prostitute approaches and reaches for my arm, and I say "Don't even think about it".

Hot & Cold

Another not yet sleeping night. Close your eyes and open ears and you'll hear everything. Rants, accusations, excuses, apologies and sheer determination. This is what one is forced to revel with every silent night. 

Everyday coming home, hoping for some semblance of hope that they've sorted their values or open their eyes to each other's problems, seemingly at first, till the doors close. It's all a facade, a tiring tireless facade that knows no bounds. Who's in the wrong here? Is there really infidelity between them? Is he really so darn promiscuous to even try? Or even brave? If so, where does he have the time? All he does is loiter at home, no friends and no family. Who has he to see and when? A five minute phone call relationship that goes no where? Who the hell would even try to cheat with a married man with that? He's not even a rich man for pete's sake. 

It's ridiculous. Who to believe? She's rampant as ever, accusing on little details that may or may not be true. A voice recorder that says a murmur that's definitely a woman, picking up his lady friend on the way to work, how is even that possible?! The pure stubbornness of it all, to demand to be right, to be content and determined there could be no other explanation, is sheer stupidity and hell. 

Honestly, one doesn't know what to believe. Siding with one means wronging the other. It's unbelievable. If one accuses, relay the facts, bring it out and get to it. Don't accuse and believe, ruining your own hearts. It's as if she wants it to be true. It's as if he can't really do anything to prove it. It's  like being on opposite sides of a canyon, trying to reconcile without creating a bridge. How the hell is the upcoming vacation going to be enjoyable, Who knows?

Well there goes to being role models for love and marriage. Way to live life, folks. 

Love's Quarrel

Of nights like these, thoughts wander the endless plains of matter

Composing, dreaming and bearing reality out of heart's desires

having written while love sleeps,

words left unsaid while love dreams.

The writer wanting words said than written,

forgiven and not forsaken

as words lose matter and being while eyes lie open

An excuse for the forgotten, unfulfilled. 

May I greet my loved one tonight,

Love lies unforgotten, forever loved and wanted.

- End -

And as a writer writes, forgive me my loved one. For everything that's been unsaid and untouched, will be repaid in love and patience. Sleep well tonight. 

A Nightly Might

Hmmmm. 

Not asleep yet as it seems, doesn't feel right. Oh well, not that there's much to do anyways at this time. Took my dearly beloved to sleep (sounds deathly wrong), a wish goodnight and a sweet dream here and there and off she went to briskly walk upon wonderlands of noir weirdness that she is so accustomed to. I'll join you soon. 

Not much gravitas in the online world either, the usual line up of sites are all checked and abused, read and complete. I've drawn something the other day and upped it on DA . But what else?

Let's see, exams are coming up next week. Not so difficult as proposed to be, simple matter of click this, click that and viola! (Computer based exams, future here I come!) A week after that, tripping with family to Thailand for a week, coming back to go to Philippines in December. An exciting two months this will be! Not to mention, expensive!

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Forgive the line break over there, just wanted to break away from personal and go more thought-like as we say. What would be a proper topic? Keep that for the next post, for it'll deserve it's own. 

Keep bright readers.