remembering bangkok 1: tonight, not again


2007

. . .  there are rainbows in solitude . . . there is always that thought of throwing my entire body to the sea of Whitman’s A Song To Myself . . . or going to YouTube and watching old videos, interviews that I missed and well, watching absolute crap that should allow the time to hit 3 AM . . . and then, sleep.

But tonight, I was caught up watching Jason Mraz and his videos for the first time. Yes, for the first time. I was enthralled!

I was in Bangkok, Thailand in 2005 and stayed there for three months to complete my MT training for Swensen’s and one time, walking past the train station, I heard You and I Both. I was not sure where the sound blast was coming from but I just had to stop and listen to it. I realized I was right in front of a kiosk that sold pirated cds and was playing Jason Mraz’s Waiting For The Rocket To Come. I was in a hurry to get back to the hotel so I ran past it and sped my way to catch my train.

Two days later, I saw myself wandering somewhere in the Bangkok streamline of pirated cds, somewhere over Nahnah train station and the greatness beyond, grabbing a copy of WFMRTC / Jason Mraz. That night, at Siam Beverly Hotel, I surivived the night hyperventilating through his lascivious and temperamental voice and his luscious lyrics that defined gravity and infinite survival.

Tonight, I lit my candles and burned my cheap Indian incense and said goodbye to my yet-another-disastrous relationship. It was all good, I guess, having gone through denial and the blood-rage specifications of who did it all wrong and who surpassed its denials and its blood-rage specifications. I affirmly believe that the beauty of LOVE is the pain you get getting it all ironed and perfectly embedded upon yourself that it is a laborious process altogether. With my “thang” with J, some good things just don’t last I guess. It was a picture-perfect partnership but now I know that even the most perfect things cannot last. Perfection is just not allowed by the cosmos as perfection would mean bliss and BLISS is unattainable in this time and age . . . we just have to survive.

. . . like I am surviving this warm night in Dubai, over Jason Mraz’s videos and this mechanical fingers typing as I know that somehow, I am waiting for my rocket to come . . . not tonight, but maybe, in the nights to come.

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