… i…me…me…mine …

Meandering Journal thoughts, after nearly 2 weeks in Rio:
January 9, 2006

“Wearing white, a Brasilian tradition on important days.  It shows off
the tan skin, creates a reflective surface between skin and sun.
Makes a woman feel virginal, something revered, as well as something
reviled.  What’s that about? ….how classic RC can we get, she thought.

She reposed, she reflected, she responded, she just couldn’t figure.
How could someone so intelligent be so stupid, stuck so full of the
Stench of the Past.
It is not good for humans to be too much alone,…
We are broken into pieces for a reason………..

God alone.  Just an Ego, creating, loving, enjoying, talking to itself…
But …..break it into…. oh, let’s see…. a Quadzillion pieces, and oh!
the Glorious Reflections.
Dazzling………Maddening…. and so distracting, endlessly.

So, back to  the One, back to the pieces….One, pieces, one, pieces,
ad infinitum.

She wanted to Scream it… Look Stupid, I’m Here, Ready, in the Now….
You want Results… You want me to reflect you, just like the Dream
Me reflecting You, in your one eyed fantasies… I’m Real…
I am Here because I love you…  Or… am I?  She even questioned that…

Maybe we’re just the best each of us can do, right now… we’re both
old and decrepit, as you love to keep reminding me….
So …  go find something better…. !!
oh!  the threat!
It’s all become the old struggle of Egos.  Will against will.  Who will win?
Well…you Must, or we cannot be a couple.  In your world, it is
heirarchical, and Man is on top.  In my world, I think I want a Partner,
different but equal.
How can our visions be so different?  Ore are they?
Yes, I feel superior in ways….at least i don’t Hate my Father…OR my
Mother, for that matter.  I have dear friends that I manage to keep
things well enough OK with… with distance….

Is it DISTANCE that allows for closeness, love, compassion, desire?

OK… in this world of duality, Yes, of course.
But only on a more minor scale, when it comes to life partners…
Some friends once a year, some once a week…
But that ever elusive Partner… Opposite must Be to attract… grow,
but Likeness must Flourish to sustain and maintain.
How to flourish Likeness?  Shared experience, a history built up
in time, of things to share, to remind eachother of likenesses.
But how to diminish resistance to agreement?… If it’s my idea,
it Must be bad, wrong, or at least diverted for while until it’s His.

I…Me….Me…. Mine.  A Giant shit pile of Ego.”

 

————————————-

Back but Not …

This blog started as a running commentary on Dating sites.
Then it went in a direction that was not planned, yet one
that was in the card catalogue…
You know… that thing that you know some day you will write about………Someday.

And then that Someday became a train that I hitched a ride on
for quite a while….

Time was,  it was Time to get off that train… for a while at least.

Perspective.   That is what matters in life.  And perspective
depends on your locale, no matter the Bardot, the Time Zone,
the Chakrah….

So here I am, listening to Brasilian Jazz for the first time
in a long time…
I have avoided it… I did not want to go back to it….
go Back to it, to the emotions that the music lead me to. 
For many years, I used Brasilian music of all sorts to
take me back to that magical place that I had attained with
this person who had come into my life. 
And now, for years, I have pushed all of it away….

It’s called Survival.  It’s called Healing…
It’s also called something … oh,
and Right Now as I write, Jobim has come on Pandora, the
station that will be my slave and play whatever mode I choose…
And like I said, I am allowing Brasil to re-enter my reality,
because… although it represents Him… it also represents
the culture that I fell in love with many years ago, and
opened such beauty and rhythms and sweet language sounds to me.

Please…. I am a girl from the sixties, and I loved those days
when Samba entered our culture, and became a part of Movies that
are Dated by the Samba notes that are played as Party background.
I mean, check out Peter Sellers, and an early film… “The Party”…
which, if you haven’t Seen it… oh you Must!
It’s one of his Best, and Samba and those times just envelope
the film. It was a heady, sweet and naïve time, before Reality
struck. I am so glad I got to be there… But…
I am a girl of the times, and all those notes, those feels
go straight to my soul and to my Netherparts as well…

So now Jobim … and his brilliance, his iconic purity…
reminds me that Brasil is more… so much More than Alcir and
all he happened to bring to me….. I fell in Love with Brasil,
and was lucky, privileged enough to really get a taste of a
culture that mesmerized me for so, so long.

So I guess I am saying a few things… I still love Brasil. 
I am still in love with the Music that falling in love with a
Brasilian took me to…. and now I seek to, on one note,
Separate one from the other, and on another level, Allow me
to feel some positivity towards finishing my story about
my love affair with Brasil, and with this crazy Brasilian
who really in all honesty, fucked me over big time…
whilst bringing what I wanted, which was a true real visceral
experience of uniting with this culture.

And yes, still, I feel there are things that need to be
confronted, completed, shared, and yes, even enjoyed,
before this tale is over.

OH… and ps… I am now Listening to DEAD MAN WALKING
soundtrack, and yes, You Alcir know what that means…

 

————————————————————–

…bits and pieces…

Days pass, one after the other, without bookmarks.
Catching up, tuning in, taking care, adjusting and putting
stuff in place…
It’s been Three Days Home, after the two day journey, and
aside from her message to him that she’d arrived, there was
nothing back from him.

The lack of contact, withdrawal from connection, was overtaking
sanity, and she needed the emotional equivalent of methadone…

Knowing him, she thought, he’s likely getting wasted and numbing
out, while she was busy feeling all of it.
In that way they were very different.
But she could Feel his wobblings… his core off center…

She was coming down a rough slope, landing on excruciatingly hard
and itchy terra… and it felt like nothing could fill the void.

She reached into the abyss of time warps, and opposite sign waves,
and found little but empty hands and aching, longing questions.

If he was on the same E Ticket ride, they were both going down,
and no matter what she stuffed into the vacuumous black,
nothing satisfied.
Her way was to reach out, his to pull away.

There wasn’t enough beer or chocolate or cigarettes or mind
bending thoughts to fill it up, this she knew.
There was nothing she could do about his wastoid habits either…
… but keep busy, and keep on dialing.  He never answered…

It was a cruel time, a time that only would pass with time,
until another time took its place.
There were no answers to her questions now.
Her molecules were still collecting, still scattered across
half the planet, still sitting in that room, still lying
next to him, hearing his voice saying her name.

Just now, it felt like all was unknown.
Like Anything could happen …
Was Anything Real???