"There must be someway outta here," said the Joker to the Thief.
"I need some relief." (Boy Dylan lyric from All Aong the Watchtower)
Touching and feeling the sweet Thai femme's skin is an under advertised pleasure. I am spooned against her and my lips rub softly slightly below her neck. Her skin's texture is a delight and joy and it is a wonderful free toy.
Mali has entered my Ao Nang world. I shall tell you a little about her but please know she may sound common but is not. She may seem like a hundred others described on Stick but she is the exception.
She may have a tattoo on the mid of her back but her front space is natural and pure. When she smiles at me I dare anyone to doubt sincerity. I would know it if false note is at play.
When she first felt my chest she traced some of the fine hair and said: "Gold."
That has become my nickname . "Gold, I love you," she says.
I know she is different because when I first saw her in the bar our eyes met and I felt something. But she did not approach me. She was not predatory. And I did not approach her. Until I came around the next night and then she did come to me. It was not ideal, I admit. I mean because money was involved. But that first night it was obvious to both of us that what we had was beyond purchase.
I won't tell you the region she is from. You probably already know it. But she is not a cliché. A cliché does not smell sweet. A cliché does not display modesty with a wrapped towel when leaving the shower..
She is with me and therefore cannot be a cliché.
But I cannot prove our truth because it shall not be allowed: I have decided to leave Thailand. When I tell her she cries. A cliché does not contain salt riched liquid tears.
I must go because I am a louse. I originally came to Thailand with my Filipina wife on vacation. I met a Scottish lass at the hotel pool and when she was sitting in the shallow end and spread her legs under the water I happened to glance down and see red fine tufts, and the down silk captured me and became an obsessive memory. And the draw of it saw an eventual union of gold to flame.
When she left and went to study in London I would phone her but each time there was less and less something.
My Filipina went to visit her home and I was alone in Ao Nang. The idea of returning to the States and job and revolutionary road depressed me so I did not move from my Ao Nang hotel. And in time I realised that maybe a vacation was just a mask for a need to reject the life I had developed in the States.
When I was younger I started out in the Arts and when my first marriage ended I took up with Johhny Walker and friends and behaved horribly and lost reputation and work. I went back to school and ended up in government work.
Thailand has ended that, I think. I mean I have ended that. I mean Ao Nang has presented a stray from the Western script. I do not need to describe it. The Stickman site is littered with discontent about the West.
I have been narcistic. We so quickly see selfishness in others as we are hypocritical around how would I consider someone else who would do what I did. My Filipina wife is wonderful. I shall leave Thailand and go to her in Rizal province.
Okay. Maybe this is not the only reason of leaving. How do I say this?
The money is running out!
So good-bye Ao Nang. Good-bye walking in morning light along the beach with mountains in the background. Good-bye to easy longboat trips to nearby islands like Ralway where colors are by Renoir. Good-bye to the Indian pushymen who try to sell you suits from the sidewalks. Good-bye to the pancake stands and food stands and restaurants on the beach of fresh crabs and spicy curries.. Good-bye to the best rice in the world.
Good-bye to Sam, my bestest friend. (Though I have not seen him for quite awhile. He has seemed to have disappeared. But where would a soi dog disappear to?) I shall miss my drinking buds Bill, and Todd, and Gene, all Brits. Wonderful lads though I don't really know who they are sober.
There is more "more" in Thailand. I can't really explain it.
There also seems a reality in Thailand and bits that appear not of reality. Does this make any sense, x-pats?
Craig, I am leaving Blue. I'm not waiting for abyss. To be poor without money would be down road.
For now before my leave I am in the comfort room named Mali.
Her skin is solace and forest and flower..
I am looking for excuses and ways to stay.
I would like to prove most Stickmen wrong and prove Mali and I are exceptions to the bargirl ending.
There is always possibility of return.
It's nice to be proven wr0ng, but when it comes to bargirls it doesn't happen that often…