Summary justice - Bangkok, Thailand

The year 2013 was indifferently fading away while I was standing petrified, watching a mob publicly lynching someone who got caught stealing a shirt, or something like that. While he was lying unconscious on the road, perhaps already dead, someone used his heel to smash his skull on the asphalt a couple of more times. He raised his knee high and used all the strength he was capable of. The guy's head rolled on the ground in a peculiar way, like a coconut being hit by a machete. Then two cops arrived, checked his pulse, couldn't make much of that, handcuffed him and took him away. Yes, they really handcuffed him: after all a thief is always a thief, even if he seems to be dead. As for the executioners, they proudly walked away. Obviously unpunished. 
I knew that the memory of those images, blows, expressions, sounds would have haunted me for days. I knew it, but there was nothing I could do, as usual: I didn't wanna watch, yet I had to watch. Violence here is something that hypnotizes you before even shocking you. And I found myself like a cartoon character facing a pendulum, with rolling eyes, spiral-shaped, taking in the whole show. As far as I am concerned the excess of violence here is like that of chili, after so many years I know it as a fact: I'll never get used to it. In the meanwhile I also realize that my friend I, gentle soul, seems to have taken it even worse than I did.
You have a happy new year...I'll have a drink to wash a foul sour taste  my mouth.
As Cormac McCarthy says...no country for old men.

 PS I could only publish this post like this, without a picture, coarse text on plain color background. Any other other image, shade or reference would have been unbearable.  
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