"Until it comes. Glad to know that you aren't dumb and mute after all," he said—he who went under the nickname of Boi. Whether this one was really Boi 1 or Boi 2 would depend on perspective; but, in either case, he judged that it did not matter. If there was something that mattered it was that these traumas he had experienced in Bangkok were making him transfixed by boys.
"I speak occasionally; but there isn't much sense in rattling nonsense so that everything seems less empty, is there? Besides, I like to think and be quiet."
"Why?"
"I don't know. It makes me feel alive."
"To not say anything to anyone?"
"Yes. To not be in the commotion of others too much. It's a trade off—which voice seems most important at a given time. But I know that it comes from affliction, early pain and reticence I never overcame. Seeking color in darkness. What are you doing?" Nawin smirked.
"What it looks like."
"Yeah, well I mean, out here?"
"Looks like I'm shutting it down with some wanks. Do you need to piss?"
"Yes."