Live, Fuck, Cry, and Die
Diary,
Bad worrisome thought.
Feeling lousy after waking from long midday nap, still coddling yet another lingering cold.
I’m so goddamn sickly and weak in my old age. It’s more normal for me to be sick than healthy. Been like this for such a long long time now.
Woke mildly sweating.
Step outside on balcony. Strong cool breeze although sunny.
Gaze briefly at the familiar scene below.


Struk.
No one else around. Not a soul in sight.
An idle thought, a sudden foreboding:
I’m old now and going to die. Sooner than I want, probably.
Cry.
My crying different now, like helpless sobs of small child.
Is this what’s left for me, then?
Living the rest of my miserable life clinging to my suffering.
Desperately seeking healing/closure.
Breathe.
Just keep going.
Until I no longer can.
Even if I never let her go in my mind.
Come back to me Greenpeace Girl!
Just keep going.
I know what to do.
I know.
I read and watched all the goddamn self-help spiritual stuff and YouTube videos until it’s coming out the goddamn yin-yang.
Just forgive myself.
Just love myself – and extend that love outward.
And love will come my way again.
Just keep going, no matter what.
Too early yet to give up – and join mom and dad and grandma and grandpa in a place where there is no more suffering and pain – just pure everlasting love.
A Pattaya World Without Love
The cool breeze is chilling my body, so I hurriedly step back into my cramped Buakhao Road apartment.
I briefly check some photos I had taken yesterday, while taking a short bike ride outside the apartment, careful not to stress my weakened body.
Yesterday was Valentine’s day, and as usual the one-day vendor stalls pop up out of nowhere.
Maybe a year ago I might have been more gung ho and ride around, looking for a good Valentine’s photo, like a bargirl carrying a bouquet of flower from a farang “boyfriend.”
But then I thought, no one really gives a fuck if I get a great shot or not.
Who cares.
I had snapped a shot of a pink teddy bear.
Ah fuck Valentine’s Day!
Who cares.
My best shot turned out to be when I was riding aimlessly in the nearby deserted parking lot.
I had gotten off my bike, feeling lonely and discontent with everything.
How long more can this go on?
I then spotted an old imprint on the ground.
I stared at it for a while.
The unknown vandal had left something behind that will outlive him — and me too.
Sitting at my makeshift table desk in my cramped and cluttered apartment, I gaze at my unwieldy monstrous piles of daily scribbled diaries slowly burying me in paper – that likely will die with me too.
What’s the fucking point of it all?
I idly start reading another diary entry.
February 6, 2025.
5:30 am.
Diary,
Woke up about 3:30 am. Decided to just stay up. Fukit.
Gratitude.
I feel buoyed, sorta “happy.”
Yesterday had a massage-BJ from a cute, cheerful small masseuse I had never seen before at Relax Massage. I know this place does not do boom-booms. Only handjob and blowjob.
Nowadays I cannot seem to “finish” when I fuck – and especially can’t have orgasm from BJ or handjob.
But when I saw this cutie, I don’t really care.
We do the usual ritual before the massage where she accompanies me to the shower, and gently soaps my body and dick and rinses me off.
Very pleasant I must say.
Then return to the narrow small room where she gives a soothing light oil massage on my back and legs for about 20 minutes or so.
So she asks if I want her to strip naked while massaging me. I know that will cost me 500 baht extra to add to the 1,100 baht happy-ending package, so I decline.
I know they cannot fuck in this place. She could get fired for that.
At most, she might allow me to play with her pussy, maybe even finger fuck her, but that doesn’t really turn me on.
The only reason why I would want her naked is so that I can massage her too.
But her body is kinda chunky so that’s not enough incentive to pay 500 baht more.
It’s time to flip over for the happy ending.
She does a nice slow oily fondling of my dick to get it hard . . . then leans down and begins sucking. And sucking. And sucking.
Poor dear I made her work so hard for her money.
I get up and kneel on the mattress and have her suck me. I stand up on the mattress and have her suck me.
I gaze at the wall mirror from time to time to watch her sucking me.
I feel kinda guilty for just making her suck me for such a long long time.
Haha one thing about all these bargirls and masseuses. They get very bothered if you cannot “finish”
They feel like they failed to do their job.
But I started feeling sorry for her. And also sad somehow.
Is this all there is?
Where is…. love? Where is feeling for each other…. Where is … some kind of connection?
This is just a dick sensation.
It kinda looks degrading even, making this young cutie bend in front of me and suck my dick furiously and hopelessly in her impossible mission to blast my sperm into her sucking mouth.
So I finally say to her, it’s OK if we no finish.
She’s disappointed, but yields to reality. This fucking old farang cannot finish.
We return to the showers where she gives me another soapy cleanup.
I suddenly am struck how cute she is and keep staring at her face.
She notices my staring.
“Why you look at me,” she says.
“Because you so cute,” I reply. “Khun suai mak-mak!” (You are very beautiful!)
She laughs and thanks me.
But I feel sad and empty inside.
Fang cannot compare to Greenpeace Girl. No one can ever compare to Greenpeace Girl. But even now my memory of how exactly my dream girl looked is fading, because I have no photo of her.
STOP.
Rehashing regrets endlessly.
Just STOP.
Change the subject!
We finish the shower and return to the dark small massage room.
Fang agrees to a few pics.
I complain the lighting is too dim to get a decent photo, so she uses her phone to illuminate her pretty face.
Yesss!
I pay Fang the 1,100 baht for the happy ending massage, and add a 300-baht tip.
She joyfully hugs me in a tight embrace.
Yeah, I foolishly overtip, frequently.
Fuckit.
It’s only money.
As Yoko Ono once told John Lennon, which he later used in a song:
Last night the wife said
“Poor boy, when you’re dead
You don’t take nothing with you
but your soul.”
Fang lets me add her LINE account for a future massage.
I leave Relax massage feeling OK with life, for a short while.
I stop reading the diary entry, feeling disillusioned.
The day after my happy ending encounter with Fang, I had sent her the photo I took.
I then couldn’t resist taking hits of dope early in the day, followed by drinking 4 beers, and having pizza delivered to my apt for dinner.
I had planned to visit Fang afterwards, but my body started feeling bad from all that alcohol and dope.
Goddamn.
My body felt so shitty, no way I could leave my apartment.
Fang’s soothing massage/BJ would have been ultimately unpleasant.
I knew I had to just grit my teeth and endure the discomfort for a couple hours, until the unpleasant, borderline nausea fades – as I await sleep for a blessed release from my pain.
The following day, I notice Fang had sent me a message that night.
Shit. I did not hear a phone “ping” signaling a LINE message.
I then immediately sent Fang a message.
It went unread.
I then went later to Relax massage at about 5:30 pm.
No Fang.
I send a message. “What are you doing?”
Unread.
Shit.
Sure enough, I have not seen Fang since at Relax massage.
At that place, many chicks often work only briefly, then quit and disappear.
Bye bye Fang.
Everything is so fucking fleeting in this life.
I suppose I could keep messaging Fang until she maybe replies, but I don’t really care.
She isn’t that cute, really.
But the main reason I can let her go is because Fang’s body is somewhat too thick to excite me.
And this dreadful lonely life goes on – no matter what.
A Fucking Strange Short Time
February 8, 2025
It’s 7:30 in the morning, and I leave my apartment on Buakhao road to buy something from the 7-Eleven across the street.
I see a small spinner chick standing on the corner, wearing a low-cut dress.
I approach her oh-so-casually, trying not to appear creepy – which for me is not easy.
I forget exactly what I said, maybe something smooth like, “I go with you?”
Very quickly the topic of ST is raised, and she quotes me 4,000 baht.
WTF!
I say I can only pay 2,000 baht. She quickly agrees to settle for 2,500 baht.
What followed is pure weirdness.
I cannot take her to my apartment, which is less than a one-minute walk away – because I am too ashamed that the female maids and female front desk staff will see me with a young hooker.
Their first reaction would be astonishment, then big smiles and likely barely-suppressed smirks.
These respectable Thai ladies toiling in honest low-paying jobs would never look at me the same way again. Aha! We knew you were a dirty old farang grandpa after all!
So my little Thai fuckdoll and me hop on a motorbike to my favorite ST hotel – only a 5-minute ride away.
We go to check in and I get a shocker.
No vacancy. The hotel is full.
Fuck the goddamn tourists and the goddamn busy season!
Now what.
Another motobike ride down Buakhao to Jasmine Villa ST hotel, near the LK Metro entrance.
I’m feeling extremely uncomfortable during the ride, since I have to sit in the middle, with my chick behind me and the driver in front.
I am wedged so tightly, my soft dick is mashed against the driver’s body.
I just grit my teeth and bear this unwanted pressing of my dick against another man’s body, because I have no choice.
The fucking Jasmine Villa hotel entrance is locked!
Too early for them. The front desk clerk is probably still sleeping inside.
Then another fucking motosai ride, down Skaw alley in Treetown to the cluster of ST hotels near Second Road.
All either closed or no vacancy.
Now what!
We then have to go to a 7-Eleven store to buy a phone charger, because her phone is dead.
Inside the store, she’s acting weird, making a fuss over something as the store clerks look at her in puzzlement.
She is not normal, I realize.
I start cringing in embarrassment, because the store clerks know I am with her.
This is the kind of half-crazy chick who attracts attention in public because of odd behavior.
Finally in desperation I decide to sneak her past the female staff at my apartment building.
Another motobike ride to my apt building, where we get dropped off.
But then I see the overnight clerk sitting right where we have to pass by to get to the elevators.
Even though the clerk sees me, I make an abrupt about-face and walk us back to the far corner of the building’s parking lot, out of sight.
Shit!
The spinner starts getting really irritable, claiming she had not slept all night and is tired of all this walking around. I end up handing her 500 baht for her to rent a room somewhere.
But then after more fuss and bother, and me knowing that I would not get to fuck her once she leaves my sight, I decide to risk humiliation.
In a desperate heroic attempt, I just finally wait until the female clerk’s back is turned, and sneak past her to the elevators.
Made it!
Once inside the building, I quickly walk the spinner up the stairway to the second floor, so the clerks cannot see us waiting for the elevator.
On the second floor, I press the button to go to my 4th floor apartment.
The spinner suddenly says she is tired and fed up with all this walking and riding around — and sits down on the hallway floor.
I look down at her in amazed shock.
The fucking elevator doors are open.
All she has to do was get in, ride up two floors, and walk about 40 meters to my apartment.
She refuses, despite my calm encouragement.
Like a stubborn child she sits there, refusing to move.
I stare at her in disbelief. I’m suddenly tempted to just walk away.
But what if a maid spots her?
I pray to Buddha that no one emerges from their apartment to see this.
But she finally gets up.
I grab her arm firmly, all the way to my cramped studio apartment.
Finally, alone at last!
Let her be as weird as she wants.
No one can see us now.
Inside my apt, more weird babbling and mild erratic behavior continues.
She suggests that she live with me as a caretaker.
She says that since I live alone, I might die someday and no one will find my body until much later.
I agree, but laugh and tell her that if I die, I won’t care what happens to my body because I will be dead.
“My spirit will leave my body when I die,” I say. “My body is just a shell I leave behind. Who cares?”
Earlier, she had been very bothered when I told her I have no children and never married.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot, she had showed me slight red bruises on her lower thighs, saying a man had refused to pay her after ST, and beat her when she tried to collect her money.
I had no idea if her story was true or not, but just feel really sad.
The world’s suffering is a bottomless pit.
I find out she’s age 31, from Nakhon Pathom and has a son, age 7.
She also starts telling me she had been kicked out of her apartment because she couldn’t pay rent, and has monthly bills like paying for a car, and sending money back home to support her son.
She has about 15,000 baht in debts/bills that she has to pay monthly.
Damn, some people seem like they create their own trouble in life.
But who am I to talk?
The spinner readily agrees to fucking, and lays on the bed, stripping off her thong panties.
She agrees to let me massage her first,
She lays face down, and I straddle her thighs, and begin massaging her back.
Her torso is so skinny, I can feel her ribcage bones.
It feels somewhat weird, almost like massaging a skeleton.
I fleetingly think of death and dying – and what awaits me.
She has hideously gross lumpy breast implants that look unnatural and awful.
I’m unsure if I can get erect, because it’s early and I have not taken my Cialis pill.
But I miraculously get hard after she does a handjob and lightly sucks the tip of my dick.
I hurriedly slip on a condom, apply some lube, and get ready to finally fuck this weird-ass, half-nuts chick.
Then she does something that repulses me.
She lays back and spreads her legs wide, her pussy raised up obscenely. She looks at me wickedly while flicking out her tongue rapidly in a vulgar motion.
I feel disgust, but plunge forward with bulldog determination.
I shove my dick into her glory hole, quickly sliding in balls-deep rather easily.
We fuck.
I feel strangely sad while fucking her hard – a deep, hopeless despair.
So I gave up my chance for an innocent love beyond compare with the girl of my dreams, who I had stupidly walked away from in the Big C store – for this?
I’m getting what I deserve.
I chose this way to live out my dying days.
After we finish fucking, she is OK with me taking photos, so I get some good shots.
Then more weirdness, when I say I have a slight headache.
She begins applying some kind of ointment from an inhaler-like tube to my temples, saying it would make me feel better.
But a bit of the ointment gets into my eyes and begins stinging.
Slightly alarmed, I go to the bathroom to flush my eyes out under running tap water from the sink.
She then grabs my coffee mug and starts filling it with water.
She instructs me to use my fingers to splash water from the mug on my eyes.
Although I offer to let her sleep peacefully on my bed if she is really tired, she quickly gets dressed.
It’s time to pay, so I hand her 2,000 baht, reminding her that I had already given her 500 baht in the parking lot.
She begins making such a big stink that I finally just gave her another 500 baht.
She then walks quickly to the door.
I then remember that I had forgotten her name.
I grab a notepad and pen, and say, “Wait, Wait, can you write your name down?”
She ignores me and walks out the door and is gone.
I sit in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened.
I suddenly feel terribly sad and depressed.
My mind is strangely confused as I start cleaning up the mess in my apartment.
I have a hard time remembering where to put back small items where they belong.
Lately I’m starting to believe my mental state is declining.
I’m having increasingly frequent memory lapses, especially after getting stoned and drunk, and not recalling what happened the next morning.
I’m starting to actually worry that my noticeably fading brainpower might be the
early stages of dementia, or Alzheimers.
If this turns out to be true – and the day eventually comes when I can no longer write
– why then by golly it’s time to join the Pattaya Flyer’s Club!
And from the top of a high-rise building – make my final leap of faith into the unknown abyss.
My weird headache gets worse, and I start coughing hoarsely from deep within my lungs.
I’m thinking it’s probably because of my dope-smoking and drinking binge last night.
I know I have too much accumulated THC in my body, as well as poisonous alcohol residue further damaging my abused liver.
I badly need an extended sobriety break!
I idly calculate on a notepad how much I had just spent.
Counting the 3,000 baht for ST, the phone charger I bought her and other items from 7-Eleven, along with the motosai taxi rides, I had ended up paying 4,000 baht for the ST anyway.
I lie down on my bed to take a nap, feeling awful.
When I wake several hours later, I realize I am sick. I had either caught a cold or the flu.
Not another goddamm cold!
Now I will have to stay in my apartment and carefully coddle my sick body.
I cannot fuck or shop or do normal things, because it will trigger a relapse that will extend my cold with far worse symptoms.
And especially not drink alcohol that will near automatically trigger a relapse.
It seems I am now so old and fragile. When I get colds or flu they usually last weeks, and sometimes far longer.
One time a lingering cold lasted nearly five months!
Yup.
LIFE SUCKS AND THEN YOU DIE!