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Updated: June 16, 2025
If the past, having founded the present, ceased to matter so would the present to the future which would mean that all would be immaterial. "Remember me? Sabai dee mai?" said the woman to both men. "Khrap. Sabai dee" Nawin said. "This is Nawin Biadklang, a nice enough Thai, I suppose," said the Laotian to his sister.
Perhaps, he thought, this was the real source of his reticence. "Do you hear me, Mute?" "Yeah man, I hear you. You want a milk maiden to milk you. What do you want me to do about it?" "That's right. What do I want you to do about it?" he chuckled. Nawin waited in brief silence for an answer that was not immediately forthcoming.
Thinking it now, it was nothing new for him, for to him, Jatupon, who was once in love with his brother and scrutinized the validity of human emotions thereafter as Nawin, feelings were gossamer threads of chemicals prompting puppet man to breed and breed elsewhere.
Both of you I think, although there is no way to know until some sketches are actually done or for that matter the beginning of a painting if we even get that far." Then the woman was there kissing the toe of the foot that rested on the seat and made up the phallic arch of a bent leg, and Nawin was looking at them with surprise and envy. He opened the toilet door and then bent to pick up his bag.
He was alluring for these qualities and most importantly for being fully comfortable with himself as such. He, "Naughty Nawin," was a luminosity in artistic circles who was more desirable for having been desired by others; and yet in all this time he sensed it for the inferior illusion that it was.
Maybe this assumption just related to those whose childhood, despite some sublime moments, was overall harrowing, or maybe it was merely his own idiosyncrasies. Nawin was gazing out to a sidewalk that was across the bifurcated street that veered into many directions around the Arc de Triomphe replica, and he was ready to move toward it. He was just about ready to stand up and walk away.
Nawin chuckled at the absurdity of someone making a study of his hands. "You haven't exactly used these things very much in hard labor, have you? Yes, if they were not so large and strong they would pass off as women's hands. What is it that you do for a living, anyhow?" "I am an artist." "An artist? That would explain hands like these. What do you draw?" he asked while returning the hand.
"Are you going to Vientiane?" "Yes." "To do what?" "Partying there. You?" "Sure, partying with you." "Might as well have an early one then." The stranger raised a beer up to Nawin who put it in his hands and gave the prayerful gesture of the "wai" even though it was upside down. "How long can you hang that way?" "Don't know," said Nawin. "Don't try drinking it that way.
"No?" asked Nawin as he once more inhaled the smoke of his marijuana. The gecko shook his head plaintively.
Just accept your feelings as natural, not good but natural, and you'll see things clearer. He passed the joint to his friend." "One day I'll go there." "Where?" "Bangkok. Will you take me?" "No," said Nawin and the two resumed their silence.
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