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Updated: June 16, 2025
As both head and body heated up, and the stationary environment began to wobble, he tried to reassure himself that although everything changed it did so one moment at a time. He then noticed a bald spot on his acquaintance's scalp. It seemed to be floating hurriedly in the ethereal like a satellite and the biological structure of Nawin cringed at this defective counterpart.
It seemed obscene despite the fact that it was merely the drinking of water. "Yes, my sister has been talking about you well we have, really. She says that in going and returning from the toilet that she saw a handsome older man at a mirror. It had to be you, don't you think?" "An older man?" Nawin mocked. "Not me then impossible," he said facetiously with a contrived chuckle to disguise a sigh.
"Yes, I would say so," said Nawin. "You don't have to persuade me on that point. It is just the time required to do a painting a real one with a theme, a mood, symmetry, perspective, things like this and I am on vacation.
Nawin understood: he had done fellatio, he had swallowed, and had subsequently allowed himself to be sodomized so that he might feign belief that, without anything to grasp in his empty hands, there was a permanent entity in the impermanence permeating his life and yet if humans did not have the delusion of sexual intimacies there would be no contemplation at all for an understanding of true being was brought forth in copulative intermingling.
"Are you cold?" "No." "You look tired. Are you tired?" "Not really." Boi guffawed at the lucid and hesitant utterances of the withdrawn, distrustful being and looked amused as though it were a game to him. "Well, I suppose you'll dry quickly enough when you're back inside. Do you have a hotel room?" "Not yet." As the Laotian scrutinized the Thai, so Nawin did him.
With a more solidified judgment that their actions were obscene Nawin began a slow unwrapping of his own gum; and yet not wanting to judge precipitously on nominal matters where he could be mistaken egregiously, he decided that he would remain seated where he was and not leave them.
He noticed some lint on his shirt and flicked it off but really it was the stranger whom he now wanted to flick away. "What will you do?" he at last asked. "Starve," said the Laotian. Nawin saw envy and resentment in the stranger's face even though few things were absolute when being conceptualized upside down.
"Again for a while a few weeks or so," said Nawin in jest but seriously believing that there was comfort in friends and acquaintances alike remaining strangers. "Wanting to have fun with a Laotian girl?" "Do you have one in mind for me?" "I will sell my sister at a special discount for you if it doesn't cause more war injuries."
Nawin laughed out a spray of saliva but immediately regained self-control the best he could when upside down and having drizzled in public. "Oh my, so sorry, forgive me." For a moment he deliberately sobered his rolling caprice of laughter with the thought of the bleak scenario beyond the bold and refreshing honesty of the Laotian's words. "You've lost your jobs?" "We have.
Back then, at the age of 36, he, Nawin Biadklang, had considered the sardonic comment both humorous and exhilarating, for every article allotting time and space to an examination of his self- absorbed ruminations on decadent living, no matter how critical and regardless of the domestic nature, like this one in point, was to him, then, like the first lick of succulent success.
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