- Dragging and suppressing my inner growls of irritations I walked up the stairs of the Skywalk lodged between Siam and Chit Lom. I will never understand the logic of traffic, let alone foot traffic. Bangkok’s Skywalk is filled with endless stairs and large concrete foot; still humans seem stuck like burnt rice in a casserole moving at turtle speed. I mean it is ridiculous to a point where I may turn back and wallow in Siam’s Paragon shallow mall and hunt (again!) for a seat at an Internet cafe, where loads of Thai occupy seat and space. “I don’t understand how the malls are always packed with Thai’s during school and office hours,” I ruminate. You’d never see that in North America or Europe, only during lunch hours and weekends are excluded from this reflection. Pfff, maybe they have more money than us.
Ha, well look at that backwards seems worse than going forward so I resist defecting from this ant like single file with the exception I did not bring anything sweet to the Queen, just my sour disposition and disturbed mind. There is a corner dividing stairs and path towards Central World and it seems to be jammed by the slowness of this world population who have forgotten to put one foot in front of the other and stride forward. Has everyone just learned how to walk?
The cars are honking, the smells of spit, polluted air and other bodily fluids are both exhausting and upsetting, combining to the fact I find it mind blowing that the incessant vrooming sounds of motorbike never cease to surpass all other irritating sensations this city has to offer, this carnival of annoyance and heightened sensation is building up to a nervous breakdown. I need to get out of here.
I’m walking, walking and counting the seconds: 1 turtle, 2 turtles, 3 turtles… I’m so fed up I can’t take it anymore, I hate myself, I hate my life, I am all alone, I have failed and I hate it here. I continue walking I finally turn the corner and “why would he introduce me to his brother and his friends? I don’t get it, I don’t get it. It makes no sense,” my skin burns at the thought of this rejection treason. I really thought he loved me after all these years.
“Don’t fucking cry in public, hold it together until you find another bathroom stall.” Inner groan, inner pain subsides although my chest is still clenched with a slight burning sensation but my eyes are not watering anymore, as my tears have fallen deep inside me after I have swallowed them inwards.
OK going up the steps, turn left and I can pass these clowns straight to the ladies room. As I reach the last one, the couple kissing in front of me that I’ve been avoiding (cause why would you witness happiness) swerves with the rest of the busy crowd and I gasp, lurch and catch a little vomit in my hand stuck tightly on my lips with this face to face where I muffled a shriek .
There in the corner leaning on the hand rails is sitting this woman, selling I’m not sure what because my gaze lasted less than a millisecond on her drooping face. Drooping, dropping is not the correct word. She is a character in Mos Eisley Cantina from Star Wars. She’s the octopus man in Futurama, she is the past imagination of the future that is now in the present and I can’t help but wonder if Lucas had it right all along. How did he know humans would mutate this way?
This was the most repellent, unexpected site I had ever seen. I always had issues with deformities and the twisted ways of our bodies but this is the summum of sick. Fuck, I thought I had problems? She’s out there everyday living the pain and shame of her repugnant appearance and all I could do was gag! No one would ever believe me so I took my tablet out of my brown leather backpack, and turned around shaking and unwilling, but I thinking that maybe, maybe someone could help this woman after seeing this video.
As I doubled back, I notice that I was but an observer in the cantina. There was a little boy, a burnt victim playing the flute in his schools outfit, beggars and a man missing a leg and now I thought I was in India. Wait a minute. Bangkok didn’t use to have such disturbing sites.
An amazon filed with dirty old Viagra juiced up small penis man like picture n.3. He kept harassing the poor woman, who told him repeatedly she was not interested in his dirty penis.
Taxi scams? Yes.
Fake jewels Scams? Yes.
Hookah breaking scam on Koh San Road, where the bartenders, a strange lady who appears from nowhere and a fake policeman join forces to extort money out of drunk tourist? Yes.
Life sucks sometimes
Children working late at night selling flowers or other useless goods. Yes. But I had never seen the handicapped, lepers and deformed begging in the streets of Bangkok previous to this year. Yesterday I saw a tall, very tall one armed, acid thrown in an eye burnt victim Thai man carrying a large bucket begging for money. These are not the usually sights seen in Bangkok and I cannot stop and wonder if the ever growing economy of Thailand is a disease, a curse where some slum dogging scum prey on the innocent and poor overtly; while the onlooker stares and avoids the issues of this rapid plague growing in Thailand.
Well, at least that day I was no longer sad.
…………and I also got a video footage for you.