He Finally Realised

*

Hunting, a sad and desperate old man made a fool of yet again by another young man, worshiping at the knees of an insane beauty, walking the beach in despair. I hate this place, he said of what most considered a tropical paradise. Bars lined the beach and he hated every last one of them, the backdrops to such an insane and dangerous bust. He couldn't be free. He couldn't see his way to dissolve anything. But arrangements were not kept. I am angry now. I don't understand your thinking, the boy said, when he refused to pay for yet another girl. This is Thailand. This is public humiliation. This is neglect. Easy to find a nice boy to take care of me, he thought, pay some money. Easy. They were everywhere, these slim, amazing looking men; dark, handsome, fun loving. The original gender benders. You can have me, the boyish girl said, but he didn't want anything, or at least not her. You do for you, not for me. I don't care anymore. The dream fell apart like an ocean crashing on a sure, and he should have known better. He should have realised.

Ancient dreams kept coming to the fore. Where are you? Why are you? How can this be? Why such a tortured soul. Nothing worked. Not for him. You have no power. Well not for you; not every day. And every dream that ever passed, every lonely year he had endured; they were like swords in the heart when he saw so many people having such good time. They don't care. One comes one goes. Easy easy. But nothing was easy, not for him; not in this place; not when he had so totally lost control of his own life. Time to flee paradise; this dreadful place, the malignant tide, the horror in the sweeping colours of the tropics. Time to go back to somewhere where he was happy. where there were meetings; at least some program. Where he could come back into his own place and time. Again. As if no lessons had ever been learnt. Silence is a safe place to be. He sat in silence and listened to the happy yabbering of Thais all around him. None of it was for him. This was not his place.

You used me, he thought, as if this should be a surprise to anyone. The times come and go. Yes he had made a fool of himself. Yes he wasted some money, more money than he could afford. But it was always going to happen somewhere in Asia, on some obsessional self dissolving odyssey. He thought of Gary. He thought of good times. He thought of all the things that had wasted away. He looked at a happy, good looking mother with her daughter outside the internet shop. He wondered how things had come so low. And he knew, knew deep in his heart, how pathetic he had become. An old man trolling the beach, looking, looking, for love, for fun, for the sole object of his desire; and knew, too, it was crazy to be like this. As if anything good could come of it. As if he hadn't known all along things would end badly. Crimes against humanity, crimes against nature. It was always going to be, in a Godless place where the horror dripped in the heat and his own self abnegation had reached dangerous depths.

It was going to be a long time before he recovered from this latest escapade. Time out of mind; things that should never have been, accidents that should never have happened. I go now. We march through the evening storms. We walk up and down the beach; lonely again. He traveled from one place to another in a flitting, crazy way, as if nothing mattered and all was lost and he was nothing but a broken spring in another dilemma, a crazy time, wild, and yet he had brought it entirely upon himself. And who was to blame for that? For this ridiculous situation. For months of denial. For disciplines that knew no counterpart in this country; where the entirely unintellectual population lived as they had done for years; communally, friends everywhere, no longer lonely. It was easy to see how so many came a cropper. It was easy, only now, to understand the mistakes that so many made. But all up, all up he wished it was over; that there was a different peace, a different time, toss the sex workers out of hotel room and get a wriggle on; for while all seemed briefly lost, he was free in a way that he hadn't been free for a long time; and expensive mistakes were just that, short term failures. There were other projects; other bodies to break his heart over; other personalities to be briefly entranced by; and he would survive; at least for a little longer.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/asia/article7119056.ece

Red Shirt protesters in Bangkok have refused to disperse despite an offer from Abhisit Vejjajiva, the Prime Minister, to dissolve parliament in September, paving the way for elections demanded by the Red Shirts if they end their occupation of the city’s commercial district.

The demonstrators said that they would not go until the promise was made official and a date was specified. Mr Abhisit also faced opposition from activists who see his peace offering as capitulation. The nearly two-month stand-off has paralysed vital areas of Bangkok, hammered the economy and tourist industry and ground government machinery to a near halt. Clashes with soldiers and other violence have killed 27 people and injured nearly 1,000.

On Monday Mr Abhisit made proposals that included elections on November 14, about a year before his term would end, if the protesters left their encampment. The Red Shirts initially welcomed the plan, but the date has become a sticking point.

“If you are playing hard to get about the dissolution date, we will continue,” Nattawut Saikua, a protest leader, said. “We can remain here for three or four months. No problem.” Mr Abhisit, however, is insisting on the opposite. “If they don’t go home, I’m not going to dissolve parliament,” he said. (AP)