Secrets and lies, or maybe the truth
Amsterdam, 07 Aug. 2012.
Speak the truth and bear the suffering. A word of truth can quite simply make me an outcast of society, the masses teaming up on me, costing me my friends, the family already gone what seems an eternity ago, a scoundrel in the eyes of my former lady-friends...
But I have decided already long ago to stick to the truth no matter what crap might befal me, never mind whatever public suffering might well come my way...
Speak the truth to Cesca, that funny slightly nutty Indonesian lady-friend of mine, a platonic friendship going back at least twenty-five comfortable years, well aware of her curiousity, her typical feminine nose always wanting to poke into my day to day affairs, especially so concerning my contacts with the opposite sex...a sickness almost...
Do let her come over to my house though Gibby from Thailand is on the bus to Amsterdam, my beloved Mokum her destination and my house and bed her end game...do tell her about this Asian beauty from the Land of the Thais, having a hard time getting her out of the house again, wanting to poke that Indonesian nose of hers into affairs where it has no right of existence, forgotten is the death message of Dad, forgotten the silver rings she came to pick up for her litte street business on Rebrant's Plein, no, all her feminine senses are focused on that Thai lady on her cheap bus to Spaarndammerstr.
When I do manage to get her out I find her back outside my door thirty minutes later, waiting for me to pick Gibby up from her bus, help her with her tons of typical female graments stuffed into an endless array of cheap Thai suitcases, high platform shoes and make up menagerie...
Secrets and lies should be my motto henceforth!!!