It's intimate, raw, sensitive, sexual, funny. Share the adventures of a young man who dared to do what the majority will never dare, and live his daily life for more than a year from Europe to Asia, in 1990. For all those who dream of vacations in large hotels, organized group trips, lazing around on deckchairs-pool or who like crowded cruises, this book is not for you. But if you like seeing the country differently, confronting yourself with wacky, funny, crazy, sometimes torrid or downright chilling situations, then you're going to enjoy this dry and snappy style, without frills, and always with humor and sensitivity. Pages full of questioning and exposure of the author. He is like you. Aren't we all the same? You enter his heart, which is not so different from yours, with perhaps a little more courage, and a need for new spiritual answers. He gives us his intimate version of his experiences to better understand our lives. It's day by day. The adventure takes us, we are there, we travel and it goes fast! Between meditative serenity and debauchery, stupor and lust in Asia. From noisy capitals to the depths of the Thai jungle, in a Buddhist monastery surrounded by cobras where his life will take on a new spiritual impetus, he takes us on a thrilling and warm inner adventure. Extract : At the Reggae Pub, I am accosted by the prettiest Thai girl I have ever seen, very sexy, too much so perhaps. I can't tell if it's a guy or a girl because the result is amazing, I'm stunned. I'm amazed, drooling at the corners of my mouth, fine droplets beading on my temples... Immediately after the usual "What's your name", he or she offers me to have sex, because her parents are poor and she wants to get an ostrich clitoris, something like that. It was too quick anyway for her not to be a whore who whores. Well, gently, I tell her to fuck off to the smurfs and get herself another sucker, but she doesn't know smurfs. I go back to the bar. There, I meet another Thai girl, pretty, nice, not aggressive like "hello, what's your name, you want to fuck ?", so more in my idealo-romantic-obsessed state of mind. We spend the evening dancing, kissing. God, it's good to touch a woman again! Far away : I grew up in a Catholic family... well, Catholic was just a vague term because no one was really practicing. My mother forced herself to go to church on Sunday, more to see and be seen. Her confused and distorted perceptions. So I stupidly participated in more or less idiotic protocols, in which I was dressed like a beggar, wearing this silly burlap outfit and a string around my waist - like Christ's son going shopping - for the big, beautiful first confirmation parade. Most of the family was there idolizing me, unless it was more for the fact that they could once again get drunk after the ceremony and eat their hearts out. To this day, there are still beautiful photos of me holding a candle, looking sheepish and distraught, smiling stupidly at the delirious family. I also received a bracelet that was supposed to make me a man (!?), the gold necklace that I lost very quickly afterwards, in short... the paraphernalia of the child-puppet who has to follow the adults in their religious protocol delusions. Brotherhood, hospitality, self-sacrifice, generosity towards others and compassion, on the other hand, were not often seen at home. My mother was too focused on her next suicide and the number of drugs that would allow her to get through the day without throwing herself under a bus, and my stepfather was too absorbed in his role as supreme master at home, doing nothing when he came home in the evening, and above all, not maintaining any intimate relationship with the children under his roof. You talk about good Christians, damn good morons, yes!
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