robe not of monks but of the type that surely belonged to aristocrats.
He wanted leisure to see the rhapsody of every small movement under the
lambency of both sun and moon. He wanted to meditate on coruscating
city life as the Buddha of Bangkok. He wanted to be free of the
noodles that were winding about him tightly and to grasp the leisure
that should be his and no doubt was his in an earlier life. Poverty
ravaged the mind in desperate acts--the mind ached in one continual
groan for something within or without that might be sold. No
appreciation of the present moment could be had in such a state. He
wanted to know the splendor of the veins of each distinct leaf towering
over him. Still it had been determined by the powers that be that he
would float between the businesses of the two brothers who would have
their separate livelihoods in different parts of the city.
Still, there was something to be gained in being so lost from
memory and he was inured to being forgotten. The baby of the family
that he was, he had been pulled out of a cranky woman tired of having
children and responsibilities. Nursed and taken care of like any
child, still as the years passed he often felt guilty for being his
mother's burden and his attempt at being his mother's little helper did
not engender her appreciation. Forgotten again this time, he would
nonetheless be the instrument that fused the two carts into a family
business and he could get along with both all right, he supposed. He
didn't think that his brothers were so different than himself: like
him, they would work hard and feel themselves, at times, strangled in
noodles. Suthep would be seeking an alternative being in video games,
snookers, Thai boxing matches, and movement; and Kazem would seek his
being through sickening carnal releases on his brother the result of an
imagination that could make Jatupon into one rapturous whore or
another, and a propensity to always take things apart, beat on them,
and put them back together. For Jatupon, his escape came in his ride