Select Page

Motorbike accident the third – fourth if you count the one in Thailand 2003. But it´s not a challenge anyway so who gives s fuck. My loved friend Amber from the States, who returned to Southeast Asia not only – even I keep telling myself this as I need a self-esteem boost, but also to visit me, on the back of my motorbike, my most loyal machine of a donkey, so far I keep trusting it. We had a couple of beers at the metal bar. I decided to ride home before we end up pissed and not fucked and not fucking, not even mental, so I decided in present of hope, hope for distraction and a little bit of intimacy, in particular with myself; still more than dancing ashes, blown by fans from the edges of overrottening ashtrays. Close to my home, which is now really my home and only MINE! – I was back in the shitstorm. We turned at an intersection right, which you are allowed basically always in Cambodia, if there is a green arrow, light or just a farting buffalo. Intersection at night are one of the most dangerous places in Cambodia, maybe worldwide, who cares, alleys are also scary but just because of the buffalo, or no light or not an arrow pointing on the escape plan. So this SUV came from the right, driving crazy in the middle of the road, giving seriously and menacing and insance not a shit about the lights, arrows or buffalos at all except raging this intersection, hitting us at the front during we were turning, and luckily in such an angle we were catapulted still on our wheels sharp right, but Amber lost control as she couldn´t see at all what miserable shittrain was approaching us there. She was dangling from the back and screaming, her fear still echoing in my head. I stopped smooth and quick as possible. People came over, offering us their witness, providing pieces of paper with the plate number of the car on it. The car at this time was already gone. I also can remember the eyes of the driver I looked into for less than a minute, surprised and savagely. Usually I would have bet on, that the car will stop anyway, just to try to get some money out of another rich and without rights white moron. The way to rational law is far in Cambodia, very very far. But we survived. Amber obviously worst than me, suffering the pain of two legs resting in sore bruises.
And for the first time since many years I was back in my personal megalomania again. All the shit happening in the last weeks. All the pain. All the responsibilty to distort – or sensibly to adjust or finally to endure. “This is all on me. This is me. Leave. Go somewhere far. Before bad things happen.” Me the master of strings and puppets. Destiny will always be my last resort for my disbelief, for my efforts to live as much as I am able to escape from free, free from men´s forsakenness. But sometimes I return, I resurrect as God.
Be glad I am not, all of you would be already dead. Or maybe in paradise, here. Where you have to learn to choose and not to be chosen. Choosing is hell of a challenge, every day, I choose, my life and I choose for other lives, for whose I was never chosen for.