Email to my Brother

Thailand rice fields forever!
Hey skip,

I decided to post this letter to you on the blog to FORCE you to read it…

This email is the best as I’m nearly logged in here as much as i’m awake.

Drinking instant coffee with real milk. yummmmm. I’ve come to love it. Give up the old ways, comforts and take on new ones. Forget the old.

You wonder if i’m alive sometimes. What for? This life is about .025% important is what I’m guessing. God made us all differently – able to comprehend things in so many different individual ways – our private logic determines how we view anything at all… Everyone’s interpretation of what god is, whether god could exist, whether god communicates with us, whether god is important at all is all put through that private logic – our brain filter.

At the minimum, god would be aware of this truth in all humans. God couldn’t POSSIBLY expect that the entire human race would follow things a certain way. Just totally out of the realm of possibility.

That’s the entire reason I believe that god cannot judge anybody by ANY criteria that we’re aware of here.

That being said, life doesn’t mean much at all. I don’t count it as much anymore. There are kids being fukked at age 6 in brothels in Cambodia… and beaten and drugged into compliance if they don’t do it. They get AIDS and die by 14 years old.

Until that’s resolved god can lick my underside.

When I die, set me on fire amidst a pile of leaves, sticks and cow shite so those watching can understand how impermanent life really is.

And, until god comes down with a new set of commandments I’m doing as I please. I recognize obsolescence when I see it. The commandments need some SERIOUS revision.

:P

Ok, anyway. If I die tomorrow – that is the best. If I die today, even better! There’s nothing here that is permanent or satisfying for long. So who cares? If there is NOTHING after death – how could it get any better than THAT? I won’t know I was an “I” and so… total bliss.

Like sleep with no memory of it. It will be sleep without memory of life. That’s the ultimate!

If there is something afterward – I’m not afraid. BILLIONS of others have gone before me – what’s the big deal it’s as natural as breathing. Maybe more.

If there is something horrible after death – who cares? Like I said, so many have gone before that it’s a non-issue for me. What happens happens and it’s happened.

No sense putting any thought into it.

So then… It’s Chinese new year and fireworks have been going off since 6 am. It’s now just after 7. They light off a few thousand fireworks when they do it! It’s insane the amount of explosions. Remember when we used to light the BlackJack firecrackers and light a whole pack of 20 and thought we were cool?

Remember the home made bomb I blew up in mom’s backyard and got the neighbors VERY nervous?

Things are going well here. Yesterday Google finally indexed nearly 300 pages of my main www.thaipulse.com site and it should be only a short time before showering me with googlelove.

Googlelove = traffic from Google searches.

Re: Dad. The person that provides sperm is a sperm DONOR, not a father. A father takes time to create… GIVES time when it’s needed. I got no time given, my sperm donor didn’t give me what I needed so I don’t have time to talk to or think about him.

If my son thinks of me this way – great, as long as he works it all out. There is no sense lamenting not being near my son because of his wacky mom’s decisions.

I gave up completely on many things moving here – many, many, many things big and small.

I’m pretty damn happy too!

Until next time…

Author: Vern

I'm an American expat living in Thailand. I like to write informative pieces about life in, living in Thailand, including topics like: Thai People, Thai Culture, Nightlife, Technology, and I have published a lot of photographs, videos, and even books on Thailand that you can find at ThailandeBooks.com. There are many photographs of Thailand here - feel free to share with attribution (a link back to the home page). All written content on this site by Vern Lovic. Contact me at Google+.