Readers' Submissions

The View From Here

  • Written by Anonymous
  • February 12th, 2014
  • 4 min read


Black Pagoda Patpong Bangkok



I've been an ardent reader. Everything I can learn and find out about Thailand is digested in a few clicks. It is an instant supply of information although it is all so little. I am often left wanting more.

I am so torn when it comes to my thoughts of Thailand. You see, I am on the other side of the world, making decisions about the little remaining precious time I have left in this life. I look to Thailand with all of its promising beauty.

Mystical and dangerous. That beach we all dreamed of with days in the sun and tropical fronds swaying in the warm breeze or night air. A chance to capture what had slipped away. A chance to breathe again, to smell that fragrance that passes by and we are uncertain until it settles on us, like a familiar offering that we think may be long gone.

This view from over here still tells me that these fine things are fleeting. Should they come at a price? What price can be placed on a kiss?

The feel of soft skin, the elation of two people joining. It can't be taken away. Nothing can take back the moments or memories of two people joining together in the most intimate and irreversible of ways. You see, no matter the cost of pieces of paper, there is a union that is indelible. You can't take back that moment that you spend with another. How much can it possibly be worth? How much would you pay to feel alive again? How much of a discount would you ask? When the sun rises and life forces our return to this world we are all faced with the truth. Truth so well hidden in the shadows of the night. The price we pay for our lives is never enough. How much would we sell our precious time for? How much are we worth?

In the silence of my room, in the straining of my breath, I have simple thoughts. To see that beautiful dawn and to feel the hand of love holding mine. To breathe the scent of long lost desire and to see one more smile. A look that says I care. And, at any cost, we can never give enough to feel love, just one more time.

From over here I look at all the things I read about Thailand and I ask myself if Thailand is any different. Whores in the East or whores in the west, what's the difference?

It seems as if Thailand's culture is being defined by the lower base segment of life. I would call it culture but I don't want to consider degeneracy as culture.

Thailand, its people, have a fascinating culture and belief system. Thailand never needed the rest of the world as much as it had no choice but to accept it. The latrines were dug and the bars were opened and the world has been pissing in Thailand ever since. As if the world has a right to be there. To drink their beer, molest their women, while complaining about the prices and the conditions as if Thailand is some foreign conquest.

I read a multitude of stories, mostly bad, about experiences in relationships in Thailand. Girls playing games, manipulating men. I ask myself how this is any different anywhere else in the world? It's not.

There is no manipulation. There is no one being used. There are places we go in life that are full of danger and ominous warnings. In Thailand, no one enters these places alone.

Who is losing what and who is taking the risk? I look at Thailand and see how tainted and spoiled its people and culture have become. I see the Thai women as affected by western culture and materialism that it isn't any different than any other place in the world, if not worse.

Every bill we lay on the table digs the whole deeper until something beautiful becomes something ugly and unrecognizable.

When sexuality becomes a hallmark of culture then there is little left of Thailand to be revered. I think to myself about an entire country, an entire people and it's history being subjected to the opinions and influence of outsiders, lost in a western malaise… how sad.

I can't imagine having sex with a pasty old fat guy wearing cargo shorts and a sweaty T-shirt. Can't imagine having to have sex with G. I. Joe and his muscled up buzz cut delusion of manhood or a stinking drunk who can barely stand up. Can't imagine having to pound down liquor just in order to earn three or four dollars. Can't imagine working for people who are going to collect on me if I don't come to work or charge me for leaving for the night, and coming to collect if it's not paid as if they own me as well. There are no winners in this game.

So what is the price? For you? You couldn't pay me enough to sleep with almost anyone. Would you?