Synchronicity
*
In a million years, in a heart beat, in a place in between, where romance and money and charm met in a strange confluence, in a place, in a place, he had never dared imagine, short of circumstance, short of imagination, caught between, that was where he was now, half in love with a place, half in love with a body, embarrassed by his own, keeping pace, shadowed and shattered by a past lurking out of reach, grasping for a future, pissing on the day. Well none of it was true any more. He didn't know how to be happy. Nice day if you like that sort of thing had been more his style; not a glass half empty but a city racked with despair, with crippled skeleton creatures jerking across a devastated landscape and his own internal monologue tuned to match. That wasn't the case any more; and that was why he didn't know what to do; genuinely didn't know how to be happy; and so when the mornings arose and the birds began their tunes and he decided, thanks to a bad head cold, to stay home for the morning and not go out to the park; that here in this eternally beautiful place was an excuse to get lost, to drown in another culture, to lose one self and gain another; to be obsessed, to come quickly, to repeat the mantra: you are very handsome. They nestled themselves against him. They appreciated the tips. They smiled in their own charming ways. They took their tips and disappeared quickly. It was cheap, it was fast, it was easy.
Things were more complicated at home, since the gold shop incident when he had refused to fork out what was a ridiculous amount of money. Come here and save me. Come here and be a shadow of your former self. Wreck your hands across my body and be a pleasure to the world; these things he had never endured, or experienced; it was all an excuse to escape. His head pounded from the head cold. He longed for a coffee. Things were working at a pace he could not understand. He was warmed and he was shattered all at once; he swam his laps with the skyscrapers all around; he sought the advice of locals and went cruising, leafing through booklets, picking boys. He was confident enough now to always pick the best looking; as if it was his dessert; his deserve; as if enough time had passed under the river while Peter went out with the girl he had met; and they floated down the river in a restaurant; down the river, through the meandering lights; the beauty, the beauty, the lights on the water, the empty skyscrapers, the heart, and he wasn't sure what any of it meant except that now, as so often, he was the only one awake while Aek slept and Peter slept and the gloomy reaches of the building next door reached inside his head.
Once upon a time, once when the Falun Gong were persecuted by the Chinese and they held candle light vigils in Limpini Park, indeed all around the world, when the massive bureaucratic brutality that was the state crushed the heart out of everyone, when he fled his own country, when he fled across beaches, looking up at darkened guest houses and shuttered bars, the remnants of the dawn, the groups of drunken Thais gathered along the beach, for one last talk, one last congress, one last embrace, when a drunken Filipino accosted him and he said no, no, not now. You're an entirely different person sober, Peter said, and shameless guilt, inconsequential, purposeless, brutal in intent, devastating in outcome, all of it was as pointless as Van Gough tearing out his own anguish and in-completed jobs mounting. He knew what he was doing. He knew the days were passing in an endless march. He knew how ravaged they had become. He sought the passing of the days. He knew he didn't like to be alone, not now, and the minute the apartment was empty donned his party gear and went wandering casually down the street, down to the gay soi, The Balcony, The Telegraph, where the boys who already recognised him brought a soda quickly and gobbled their tip, and he fell into conversation with a French man, as you can only do in Bangkok, here, tii nii, for the weekend from Singapore, as also only happens here. Sydney is the end of the line. No one goes there for the weekend.
I've known so many people who have destroyed themselves trying to link into Sydney, Peter said, and it was true, the city had become a heartless place. A brief encroachment on the edge of the continent, it never had a soul, and now, overlaid with the pleasure seekers and the money seekers and the ass-hole professional class, rich from their property deals, arrogant, self confident, entirely heartless, lacking, certainly, in all compassion, he marched this way and that, forgot about the Caspian Mountains where he had planned to be at this time, instead popping casually through the lives of so much beauty, such handsome men, and delighting in things he could never have dared to know before, and wondering where his past misery, the only person he had known for so long, had gone; and wondering why, after he had disappeared off the earth for six months, it was taking so long to re-engage, re-contact people, make new friends and re-familiarise himself with old, how it was possible for these creeping, marching days to be so glorious, for everything to be so wonderful, for the apartment to be so modern. What had he done to deserve this; or perhaps he didn't deserve it at all and it was all just another terrible mistake leading him directly to Calcutta and his final bone-crushing addiction; or to the Happy Hippy in a lawless country where anything went down and dreams of old recycled themselves into a truly pathetic present. He knew one thing. Out of some insane sense of synchronicity and curiosity: he was going to drop by The 70s Bar after the meeting, just to see what it was like, just to say he had been.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/national/pm-feels-heat-as-poll-looms/story-e6frf7l6-1225890262653
A FEDERAL election could be called any day now, with Prime Minister Julia Gillard's office moving into campaign mode with orders for ministers to prepare key policy documents.
The move came as Labor commissioned more polling to help it decide what day to hold the federal election.
The ALP is desperately pulling together policies to win voters' approval. Every minister was last week ordered to prepare a policy document outlining a priority policy, what it would cost, and who the policy would appeal to.
Federal Families Minister Jenny Macklin was placed in charge of the process, with ministers told their policy documents had to be with Ms Macklin's office by Friday morning.
The ministers were given a "policy template" and told to write a policy overview of three sentences outlining their proposals. They were also told to detail who their target group would be, the mechanisms for how the policies would work, and how much the plans would cost.
Ms Macklin's office would not give details of the policy work, but said: "We are continuing to develop and deliver policies to support Australian families."
It is understood that Government House in Canberra is preparing for the Prime Minister's visit some time next week and expectations are high that the real campaign will begin next weekend.
Labor candidates in NSW held a training session this weekend that was brought forward as a result of the looming poll.
A senior Labor figure whose support of Ms Gillard helped bring down Kevin Rudd has called for refugee advocates to down tools and work for the re-election of the Government instead of criticising the new asylum policy.
Prime Minister Julia Gillard was in Darwin yesterday attending the funeral of 27-year-old Private Scott Palmer, one of three Diggers killed in Afghanistan in a helicopter crash last month.
The ceremony was overshadowed by news of another digger's death - the 17th killed in Afghanistan.
http://www.upi.com/Top_News/International/2010/07/10/Thailand-urged-to-end-emergency-decree/UPI-52821278738327/
BANGKOK, July 10 (UPI) -- A legislative leader has urged Thai Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva to end emergency measures for the entire country.
The emergency decree has already been lifted in five provinces. Senate Speaker Prasopsuk Bondej believes it can safely be ended for the other 19, the Bangkok Post reported.
Security measures are hurting the tourist business, Prasopsuk said, because they make travel in Thailand seem unsafe.
Vachara Channikar, a spokesman for the Chart Thai Pattana Party, a member of the governing coalition, said the emergency decree should be enforced with care.
"The government must be careful not to be seen as using the emergency to destroy the opposition," he said. "It should not be indifferent to or deny suggestions from the National Human Rights Commission concerning this matter."
Abhisit does not appear ready to lift the emergency law. He told the Thai News Agency he believes existing security measures are adequate for any protests launched by the Red Shirt Movement around the July 26 birthday of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra.
http://cloudappreciationsociety.org/
In a million years, in a heart beat, in a place in between, where romance and money and charm met in a strange confluence, in a place, in a place, he had never dared imagine, short of circumstance, short of imagination, caught between, that was where he was now, half in love with a place, half in love with a body, embarrassed by his own, keeping pace, shadowed and shattered by a past lurking out of reach, grasping for a future, pissing on the day. Well none of it was true any more. He didn't know how to be happy. Nice day if you like that sort of thing had been more his style; not a glass half empty but a city racked with despair, with crippled skeleton creatures jerking across a devastated landscape and his own internal monologue tuned to match. That wasn't the case any more; and that was why he didn't know what to do; genuinely didn't know how to be happy; and so when the mornings arose and the birds began their tunes and he decided, thanks to a bad head cold, to stay home for the morning and not go out to the park; that here in this eternally beautiful place was an excuse to get lost, to drown in another culture, to lose one self and gain another; to be obsessed, to come quickly, to repeat the mantra: you are very handsome. They nestled themselves against him. They appreciated the tips. They smiled in their own charming ways. They took their tips and disappeared quickly. It was cheap, it was fast, it was easy.
Things were more complicated at home, since the gold shop incident when he had refused to fork out what was a ridiculous amount of money. Come here and save me. Come here and be a shadow of your former self. Wreck your hands across my body and be a pleasure to the world; these things he had never endured, or experienced; it was all an excuse to escape. His head pounded from the head cold. He longed for a coffee. Things were working at a pace he could not understand. He was warmed and he was shattered all at once; he swam his laps with the skyscrapers all around; he sought the advice of locals and went cruising, leafing through booklets, picking boys. He was confident enough now to always pick the best looking; as if it was his dessert; his deserve; as if enough time had passed under the river while Peter went out with the girl he had met; and they floated down the river in a restaurant; down the river, through the meandering lights; the beauty, the beauty, the lights on the water, the empty skyscrapers, the heart, and he wasn't sure what any of it meant except that now, as so often, he was the only one awake while Aek slept and Peter slept and the gloomy reaches of the building next door reached inside his head.
Once upon a time, once when the Falun Gong were persecuted by the Chinese and they held candle light vigils in Limpini Park, indeed all around the world, when the massive bureaucratic brutality that was the state crushed the heart out of everyone, when he fled his own country, when he fled across beaches, looking up at darkened guest houses and shuttered bars, the remnants of the dawn, the groups of drunken Thais gathered along the beach, for one last talk, one last congress, one last embrace, when a drunken Filipino accosted him and he said no, no, not now. You're an entirely different person sober, Peter said, and shameless guilt, inconsequential, purposeless, brutal in intent, devastating in outcome, all of it was as pointless as Van Gough tearing out his own anguish and in-completed jobs mounting. He knew what he was doing. He knew the days were passing in an endless march. He knew how ravaged they had become. He sought the passing of the days. He knew he didn't like to be alone, not now, and the minute the apartment was empty donned his party gear and went wandering casually down the street, down to the gay soi, The Balcony, The Telegraph, where the boys who already recognised him brought a soda quickly and gobbled their tip, and he fell into conversation with a French man, as you can only do in Bangkok, here, tii nii, for the weekend from Singapore, as also only happens here. Sydney is the end of the line. No one goes there for the weekend.
I've known so many people who have destroyed themselves trying to link into Sydney, Peter said, and it was true, the city had become a heartless place. A brief encroachment on the edge of the continent, it never had a soul, and now, overlaid with the pleasure seekers and the money seekers and the ass-hole professional class, rich from their property deals, arrogant, self confident, entirely heartless, lacking, certainly, in all compassion, he marched this way and that, forgot about the Caspian Mountains where he had planned to be at this time, instead popping casually through the lives of so much beauty, such handsome men, and delighting in things he could never have dared to know before, and wondering where his past misery, the only person he had known for so long, had gone; and wondering why, after he had disappeared off the earth for six months, it was taking so long to re-engage, re-contact people, make new friends and re-familiarise himself with old, how it was possible for these creeping, marching days to be so glorious, for everything to be so wonderful, for the apartment to be so modern. What had he done to deserve this; or perhaps he didn't deserve it at all and it was all just another terrible mistake leading him directly to Calcutta and his final bone-crushing addiction; or to the Happy Hippy in a lawless country where anything went down and dreams of old recycled themselves into a truly pathetic present. He knew one thing. Out of some insane sense of synchronicity and curiosity: he was going to drop by The 70s Bar after the meeting, just to see what it was like, just to say he had been.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/national/pm-feels-heat-as-poll-looms/story-e6frf7l6-1225890262653
A FEDERAL election could be called any day now, with Prime Minister Julia Gillard's office moving into campaign mode with orders for ministers to prepare key policy documents.
The move came as Labor commissioned more polling to help it decide what day to hold the federal election.
The ALP is desperately pulling together policies to win voters' approval. Every minister was last week ordered to prepare a policy document outlining a priority policy, what it would cost, and who the policy would appeal to.
Federal Families Minister Jenny Macklin was placed in charge of the process, with ministers told their policy documents had to be with Ms Macklin's office by Friday morning.
The ministers were given a "policy template" and told to write a policy overview of three sentences outlining their proposals. They were also told to detail who their target group would be, the mechanisms for how the policies would work, and how much the plans would cost.
Ms Macklin's office would not give details of the policy work, but said: "We are continuing to develop and deliver policies to support Australian families."
It is understood that Government House in Canberra is preparing for the Prime Minister's visit some time next week and expectations are high that the real campaign will begin next weekend.
Labor candidates in NSW held a training session this weekend that was brought forward as a result of the looming poll.
A senior Labor figure whose support of Ms Gillard helped bring down Kevin Rudd has called for refugee advocates to down tools and work for the re-election of the Government instead of criticising the new asylum policy.
Prime Minister Julia Gillard was in Darwin yesterday attending the funeral of 27-year-old Private Scott Palmer, one of three Diggers killed in Afghanistan in a helicopter crash last month.
The ceremony was overshadowed by news of another digger's death - the 17th killed in Afghanistan.
http://www.upi.com/Top_News/International/2010/07/10/Thailand-urged-to-end-emergency-decree/UPI-52821278738327/
BANGKOK, July 10 (UPI) -- A legislative leader has urged Thai Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva to end emergency measures for the entire country.
The emergency decree has already been lifted in five provinces. Senate Speaker Prasopsuk Bondej believes it can safely be ended for the other 19, the Bangkok Post reported.
Security measures are hurting the tourist business, Prasopsuk said, because they make travel in Thailand seem unsafe.
Vachara Channikar, a spokesman for the Chart Thai Pattana Party, a member of the governing coalition, said the emergency decree should be enforced with care.
"The government must be careful not to be seen as using the emergency to destroy the opposition," he said. "It should not be indifferent to or deny suggestions from the National Human Rights Commission concerning this matter."
Abhisit does not appear ready to lift the emergency law. He told the Thai News Agency he believes existing security measures are adequate for any protests launched by the Red Shirt Movement around the July 26 birthday of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra.
http://cloudappreciationsociety.org/
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