There were once
two friends of long
Tick and tock
they went everywhere together
and one day found they were bound
for the ever
Tick got sad
and tock got mad
and out of frenzy
they sang a song
tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock
through the night, and all day long
they never used to sing before
now it feels like someones waiting
counting, shouting, anticipating
and in their defence
they blame the sun
and say its always been this way
but imagine a life with no ticking tock
with no shorter distance
with no better way
imagine a life where you can just stay
imagine a life of "what the heck"
with no ticking tock breathing
down the bloody neck
I need to be at my desk in 4 hours and i cannot sleep.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
The City Virus
Almost every time i leave work i get the same thought; what now?
Funny thing is; when i lived in France i hardly ever got this feeling. I lived alone amidst the Europeans and spent the better part of my time alone entertaining myself, walks, drives, shopping, restaurants, etc etc etc... I did most things alone.
There is something eerily restless about having 70 million people around and having no urge to initiate activity.. like having 76 channels and finding nothing to watch...
I'm not even restless, i am just absolutely unstimulated by anything other work and home, there is nothing else i want to do...
What exactly is this phenomena?
Funny thing is; when i lived in France i hardly ever got this feeling. I lived alone amidst the Europeans and spent the better part of my time alone entertaining myself, walks, drives, shopping, restaurants, etc etc etc... I did most things alone.
There is something eerily restless about having 70 million people around and having no urge to initiate activity.. like having 76 channels and finding nothing to watch...
I'm not even restless, i am just absolutely unstimulated by anything other work and home, there is nothing else i want to do...
What exactly is this phenomena?
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Frazzled
So i walk out of the place where i had been retreating for the weekend. I had just spent two days doing yoga, breathing techniques, meditating and listening to people's experience while they meditated and saw colors and fireworks (non of which happened to me) and actually hearing a man flutter in his place while he transcended and i resisted my temptation (several times) to break my mantra and open my eyes to watch him shake in his state of pure consciousness. It was my first weekend, after a three day course i took that ended Wednesday, i spent the weekend with around 40 people who had been meditating anywhere between decades to days.
I watched videos of lectures about knowing the self, experiencing the silence, being in the state of pure consciousness that is floating in what new physics now claims is the unified filed of all things.
Finally all the whacko stuff i believed in seems to have been scientifically proven and aligned with all religions!
As i am a new meditator (that is what they called me through out the weekend), i have been forewarned that the first stages of practicing this technique are turbulent. I was told i might experience mood swings, irritations, sadness, laughing, crying, etc etc etc...
Cockily, i was sure i wouldn't. Most of the people i know who had taken this course and started meditating are my friends from years, i knew them then, and know them now, and nothing that has been "revealed" to them was news to me. I knew i knew more than they did in their new state of awareness as i have been a dedicated reader of anything that has to do with the secret of being. Cocky, arrogant me was quite sure that the weekend would be quite the smooth sail.
So, come this evening, when i have checked out of the hotel after the retreat to head home, the menady came to collect his parking fee even though i am parked next to the ter3a outside hotel territory, and then walks off, then i back out of my parking spot (patch of sand) directly into an iron pole. Ironically the pole is short enough for me to not see it in my rear view mirror, and tall enough for it to cause a severe dent in the bumper and truck of my almost brand new car.
I step out of the car, i see the damage, the menady comes back. Now even though i have just been told for two days plus, that me, the menady, the car and that pole are all the same thing. That being mad at the menday is being mad at the source and the unified field, that me being upset over something in the relative (i.e my car in this world) is shallow and unevolved, i tell the menady that he is useless and shoo him out of my face, and then i cry for twenty minutes over having bumped my car all by myself, literally having had an accident with the pole in the street.
My fellow meditators (friends) smile at me knowingly, pat my back, tell me to "let it out", and assure me this is very normal after the first weekend as i am going through "purification".
I want to scream that no, i am really crying because i have bumped my brand new car! But they gang up knowingly in their circle of support. I swallow my tears, get back into my wounded car, and drive off in my grey cloud.
I don't know what is worse, to admit that all these people who have turned themselves into guru's and commercialized a traditional treasure are right, or to admit that i was sobbing over a dent in my car for twenty minutes like someone had just died...
I watched videos of lectures about knowing the self, experiencing the silence, being in the state of pure consciousness that is floating in what new physics now claims is the unified filed of all things.
Finally all the whacko stuff i believed in seems to have been scientifically proven and aligned with all religions!
As i am a new meditator (that is what they called me through out the weekend), i have been forewarned that the first stages of practicing this technique are turbulent. I was told i might experience mood swings, irritations, sadness, laughing, crying, etc etc etc...
Cockily, i was sure i wouldn't. Most of the people i know who had taken this course and started meditating are my friends from years, i knew them then, and know them now, and nothing that has been "revealed" to them was news to me. I knew i knew more than they did in their new state of awareness as i have been a dedicated reader of anything that has to do with the secret of being. Cocky, arrogant me was quite sure that the weekend would be quite the smooth sail.
So, come this evening, when i have checked out of the hotel after the retreat to head home, the menady came to collect his parking fee even though i am parked next to the ter3a outside hotel territory, and then walks off, then i back out of my parking spot (patch of sand) directly into an iron pole. Ironically the pole is short enough for me to not see it in my rear view mirror, and tall enough for it to cause a severe dent in the bumper and truck of my almost brand new car.
I step out of the car, i see the damage, the menady comes back. Now even though i have just been told for two days plus, that me, the menady, the car and that pole are all the same thing. That being mad at the menday is being mad at the source and the unified field, that me being upset over something in the relative (i.e my car in this world) is shallow and unevolved, i tell the menady that he is useless and shoo him out of my face, and then i cry for twenty minutes over having bumped my car all by myself, literally having had an accident with the pole in the street.
My fellow meditators (friends) smile at me knowingly, pat my back, tell me to "let it out", and assure me this is very normal after the first weekend as i am going through "purification".
I want to scream that no, i am really crying because i have bumped my brand new car! But they gang up knowingly in their circle of support. I swallow my tears, get back into my wounded car, and drive off in my grey cloud.
I don't know what is worse, to admit that all these people who have turned themselves into guru's and commercialized a traditional treasure are right, or to admit that i was sobbing over a dent in my car for twenty minutes like someone had just died...
Sunday, May 06, 2007
In my Sleep
In my sleep i kept on dreaming
of passionate, softened faces,
then wild places, then one day me
now i dream of days of space
that sit there waiting to be filled
by this and that, by love and want,
by mind and will, by faces still
by replacements for the garbage
in the alleys of the mind
in my sleep i keep repeating:
"I shall not be color blind"
Oh brave souls; you have no fear
you forget the pain
and keep the memories crystal clear
you tear down houses
down to the brick,
and leave your spouses
try every day, just once more
contrary to wishful thinking;
life was never born a whore
In my sleep I sweat repeating;
“I shall stay from fear no more”
I shed my skin one more time,
I wreck my brain
And somehow, someway
I stay sane
Sporadic voices, erratic objects
Presume to mould my life like clay
Oh random things, how clever you
pretend to hold my life like glue
Oh random things, I don't believe
In my sleep I pant repeating:
"All you have to do is leave"
And the soul
it soars higher
and the mind doesn't fight me
every time i desire
and my body doesn't break
when the want in the night
is the want in the wake
So many years spent so lead
with poison flowing in the red
In my sleep i sleep repeating:
"all you need is in this bed"
of passionate, softened faces,
then wild places, then one day me
now i dream of days of space
that sit there waiting to be filled
by this and that, by love and want,
by mind and will, by faces still
by replacements for the garbage
in the alleys of the mind
in my sleep i keep repeating:
"I shall not be color blind"
Oh brave souls; you have no fear
you forget the pain
and keep the memories crystal clear
you tear down houses
down to the brick,
and leave your spouses
try every day, just once more
contrary to wishful thinking;
life was never born a whore
In my sleep I sweat repeating;
“I shall stay from fear no more”
I shed my skin one more time,
I wreck my brain
And somehow, someway
I stay sane
Sporadic voices, erratic objects
Presume to mould my life like clay
Oh random things, how clever you
pretend to hold my life like glue
Oh random things, I don't believe
In my sleep I pant repeating:
"All you have to do is leave"
And the soul
it soars higher
and the mind doesn't fight me
every time i desire
and my body doesn't break
when the want in the night
is the want in the wake
So many years spent so lead
with poison flowing in the red
In my sleep i sleep repeating:
"all you need is in this bed"
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Dislikes
Over the past three months, the boyfriend (i am actually using that word now) has asked me about my dislikes more than he has asked me about anything else, or everything else all put together. I know i am an irritable person, though i may tolerate excruciating pain, little things are intolerable for me. I am about to write down a list for my benefit and his reference and to see from your feedback if it is normal to get annoyed with so many things:
1. Fibbing: when someone tells a story and exaggerates or improvises to make it more interesting, and then weeks or months later tells a totally different version of it because their memory didn't serve them well. This drives me mental, i hate fibbing.
2. Crassness: There are things that i find inappropriate to discuss, language or subjects that are just offensive. Even if someone is extremely close to me, crass talk is highly off putting.
3. Vulgarity: especially what is in arabic known as sharsha7a, even in the form of joking, i see no reason in the world why people would resort to that form of communication to even humorously make a point. The normal forms of vulgarity be it loud, crass or inappropriate drives me just a little less insane, i avoid potentially vulgar people like the plague. Oh, and yelling, you start yelling, i get up and leave.
4. Pressure: i hate it when people look at me expecting me to do something, i fail to believe that they don't know that i already know what they want, and i fail to understand where they come off thinking i should do it for any other reason than my wanting to. If there is any chance i will do something someone wants, it will be because he/she did not ask even though they deserve it as that gives me a chance to choose to do it out of love. Unless of course it is an outright requested favor.
5. Too much heat: unless its on the beach where i can take a dip, if i am too hot, that means i am dehydrated and dizzy and cranky, there is no way around this.
6. Invasion of personal space: I am a very touchy feely person with those i am comfortable with, if you have not been made to know i am comfortable then do not touch me, it does not go well with me, be you male or female. No leaning, hugging, kissing, i do not know you, why are you touching me?
7. Repeating the same question: if i've answered once then i've answered, asking me again is telling me you didn't believe my first answer. Even if you don't believe me, don't tell me.
8. Sarcasm and cynicism during arguments: nothing will end the conversation faster, and it wont end well.
9: Being silly: I hate those movies where its all based on someone being an idiot. I don't appreciate people who try to get attention by being silly. It's a kind of humour that does nothing for me.
10. Baby Talk: if it's not a baby, then don't talk to it like that, and definitely don't talk to me like that. When my own mother does it i take a deep breath, count to ten while she finishes and try not to scream.
11. Being made fun of: call me insecure, call me immature, i don't really care, i don't like being picked on or made fun of, and i don't think i will progress with this any more than i already have.
12. Being vague: i hardly ever ask personal questions, so if i do, don't insult my intelligence, say you wont answer, and i'll buzz off.
13. Guilt tripping: guilt is a useless, senseless emotion, when someone tries to invoke this feeling in me i feel wronged and subjected to unfairness. Call me insane, guilt tripping is by far the thing i hate most on this list.
14. Drama: if it's settled, it's settled, if it's fixable, let's fix it, if someone is upset let's talk about it. If it isn't fixable, lets accept that and live with it. Allergic to drama, anyone's but mine anyway.
Just how unreasonable and harsh am i? you can be honest, i wont take it personally, i only know about 5 of you.. so spill please.
1. Fibbing: when someone tells a story and exaggerates or improvises to make it more interesting, and then weeks or months later tells a totally different version of it because their memory didn't serve them well. This drives me mental, i hate fibbing.
2. Crassness: There are things that i find inappropriate to discuss, language or subjects that are just offensive. Even if someone is extremely close to me, crass talk is highly off putting.
3. Vulgarity: especially what is in arabic known as sharsha7a, even in the form of joking, i see no reason in the world why people would resort to that form of communication to even humorously make a point. The normal forms of vulgarity be it loud, crass or inappropriate drives me just a little less insane, i avoid potentially vulgar people like the plague. Oh, and yelling, you start yelling, i get up and leave.
4. Pressure: i hate it when people look at me expecting me to do something, i fail to believe that they don't know that i already know what they want, and i fail to understand where they come off thinking i should do it for any other reason than my wanting to. If there is any chance i will do something someone wants, it will be because he/she did not ask even though they deserve it as that gives me a chance to choose to do it out of love. Unless of course it is an outright requested favor.
5. Too much heat: unless its on the beach where i can take a dip, if i am too hot, that means i am dehydrated and dizzy and cranky, there is no way around this.
6. Invasion of personal space: I am a very touchy feely person with those i am comfortable with, if you have not been made to know i am comfortable then do not touch me, it does not go well with me, be you male or female. No leaning, hugging, kissing, i do not know you, why are you touching me?
7. Repeating the same question: if i've answered once then i've answered, asking me again is telling me you didn't believe my first answer. Even if you don't believe me, don't tell me.
8. Sarcasm and cynicism during arguments: nothing will end the conversation faster, and it wont end well.
9: Being silly: I hate those movies where its all based on someone being an idiot. I don't appreciate people who try to get attention by being silly. It's a kind of humour that does nothing for me.
10. Baby Talk: if it's not a baby, then don't talk to it like that, and definitely don't talk to me like that. When my own mother does it i take a deep breath, count to ten while she finishes and try not to scream.
11. Being made fun of: call me insecure, call me immature, i don't really care, i don't like being picked on or made fun of, and i don't think i will progress with this any more than i already have.
12. Being vague: i hardly ever ask personal questions, so if i do, don't insult my intelligence, say you wont answer, and i'll buzz off.
13. Guilt tripping: guilt is a useless, senseless emotion, when someone tries to invoke this feeling in me i feel wronged and subjected to unfairness. Call me insane, guilt tripping is by far the thing i hate most on this list.
14. Drama: if it's settled, it's settled, if it's fixable, let's fix it, if someone is upset let's talk about it. If it isn't fixable, lets accept that and live with it. Allergic to drama, anyone's but mine anyway.
Just how unreasonable and harsh am i? you can be honest, i wont take it personally, i only know about 5 of you.. so spill please.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
The All that Is
Somewhere in the deepest beings lie the secrets of this world
At any point in every moment comes an insight through the illusion that is time
Through some mantra or another opens a door to the peace of mind you know that you can hold
but don't
In some place in your core sits the heaven that you give a life waiting for
There was the fear, then the shame when your soul refused the tame
Until the day you ran out of fictitious fantasies to foretell
My personal hell, was the slippery slope of my demons as they'd dwell
Everyday was judgment day, every day was red hot fire
till we succumbed to desire, and saw ourselves for what we are
Oh peaceful wind, may you blow through my hair as you did
Oh loving All, may you blend and merge with me just once more
Oh beautiful us, may you rise above the self and show me how
The yesterday and the tomorrow are always also happening now
At any point in every moment comes an insight through the illusion that is time
Through some mantra or another opens a door to the peace of mind you know that you can hold
but don't
In some place in your core sits the heaven that you give a life waiting for
There was the fear, then the shame when your soul refused the tame
Until the day you ran out of fictitious fantasies to foretell
My personal hell, was the slippery slope of my demons as they'd dwell
Everyday was judgment day, every day was red hot fire
till we succumbed to desire, and saw ourselves for what we are
Oh peaceful wind, may you blow through my hair as you did
Oh loving All, may you blend and merge with me just once more
Oh beautiful us, may you rise above the self and show me how
The yesterday and the tomorrow are always also happening now
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Advice Needed
If i go to one more coffee shop and discuss the same topics one more time i will buy a rope, tie it into a noose and make use of it.
Enlightened bloggers, good people, please tell me where to go and what to do in Cairo, I am up for any enriching or entertaining experience.
Enlightened bloggers, good people, please tell me where to go and what to do in Cairo, I am up for any enriching or entertaining experience.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Memories
Today whilst sitting with my best friend, i remembered that 4 months ago in her wedding, instead of throwing her bouquet to a bunch of girls she couldn't see, she ran up to me, handed it over and kissed me on the cheek then ran off.I never ever want to forget that moment, and as i have a freakishly bad memory, this is for documentation.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Scrap Book
I've often gotten the feeling that i live in a scrap book of my life; a book of initially blank unlined pages that i fill with doodling and pictures, poetry and prose, articles and blabbing, signatures here and there. It's a weird feeling, i don't know if everyone feels like this, i suspect i may be more self absorbed than most or more caught up in the intensity of my own life than most. Do most people constantly think about where they are and what they've done and where they've been? Do most people have a checklist for experiences to be had by 20, 30, 40, etc...? Do most people wonder how many lives they could live in the one life? Is everyone as weird as i am so often accused of being? Is everyone as selfish and stingy with their time? I realize that is the driving force behind my reluctance to commit to things that are too constraining, does everyone have the same reasons?
My scrap book is like a mission to me, i.e. the livelihood and activity of my life in itself is like a mission for me. After years and years of facing fears i have come to accept that my ultimate fear is that of being bored, or feeling that i could be feeling/doing more, nothing terrifies me more than the possibility that i am not experiencing what i should, be that in terms of people, places, dreams or work. It is recurrently on my mind that i have not started that book, started a writing path, lost that extra weight, been to Barcelona, bummed around Latin America, lived on an island for a few years, seen that dance show i love, bought my studio on the beach, taken love to the extremities of tests and passions. It is my ultimate fear that my scrap book not have pictures of all my dreamed of destinations, descriptions of all the people i should meet, stories of all the adventures there are for me, scribblings and doodling of a person out there in the world seeing and doing it all.
I've been feeling unsettled and unbalanced since i got back to Cairo, i think i finally know why... Cairo overwhelms me with tasks, traffic and obligations that it takes me away from my scrapbook, it takes me away from the me i cherish most, the me that puts memory next to picture and doodles on the side to compile her book of life. I have realized that i am happiest in my scrap book, two steps back from the world. Am i so very weird or does anyone relate to this?
My scrap book is like a mission to me, i.e. the livelihood and activity of my life in itself is like a mission for me. After years and years of facing fears i have come to accept that my ultimate fear is that of being bored, or feeling that i could be feeling/doing more, nothing terrifies me more than the possibility that i am not experiencing what i should, be that in terms of people, places, dreams or work. It is recurrently on my mind that i have not started that book, started a writing path, lost that extra weight, been to Barcelona, bummed around Latin America, lived on an island for a few years, seen that dance show i love, bought my studio on the beach, taken love to the extremities of tests and passions. It is my ultimate fear that my scrap book not have pictures of all my dreamed of destinations, descriptions of all the people i should meet, stories of all the adventures there are for me, scribblings and doodling of a person out there in the world seeing and doing it all.
I've been feeling unsettled and unbalanced since i got back to Cairo, i think i finally know why... Cairo overwhelms me with tasks, traffic and obligations that it takes me away from my scrapbook, it takes me away from the me i cherish most, the me that puts memory next to picture and doodles on the side to compile her book of life. I have realized that i am happiest in my scrap book, two steps back from the world. Am i so very weird or does anyone relate to this?
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Within & Beyond
He held my hand in silence, he sat with me in a dimly lit room, sat with me in the quiet nothingness and all he did was hold my hand. From time to time he moved his fingers over my palm, along the back of my hand, from time to time his hands left mine and went up my arm in the slowest of motions. We sat in that dim room for hours, maybe days, maybe even months, and all he did was hold my hand and soothe me in my own undisturbed stillness.
He didn't ask, because he knew, without my telling him he knew, he knew i was quiet because no words could tell just how doleful i was. He didn't ask because he knew, that had i had anything to say, i would've said. He didn't console because he knew that all my path was chosen, and remorse was not with us in this room. He didn't wonder, becuase he knew, that today was just a chapter in a long story that leads to here for a while.
I'd sleep and wake with my hand enrapped in his, i'd toss and turn and he would stay, i'd sleep through nights and many days and he'd never leave my side. He'd inhale my sweat and listen to my breathing and share my silence, and with all his heart wish my illness away, in the same silence.
He didn't ask, because he knew that i was resting, that i had no answers, that i had no complaints; this was one of the winters of my life, and he knew that the sun would shine sooner if my time was not prolonged by cold hands and dry skin, by opened wounds and salts rubbed deep within.
He sat, he held, he stayed, he didn't talk, he just was, and that is all he needed to be.
And when after the longest time i got well, he smiled, he let go of my hand, and talked to me like i had never been anything but sunny, anything but sweet, anything but healthy, and he let me go again to be.
He made me, he saved me, he tortured and slayed me, and as i submit, again he saves me.
And as always just lets me be.
He didn't ask, because he knew, without my telling him he knew, he knew i was quiet because no words could tell just how doleful i was. He didn't ask because he knew, that had i had anything to say, i would've said. He didn't console because he knew that all my path was chosen, and remorse was not with us in this room. He didn't wonder, becuase he knew, that today was just a chapter in a long story that leads to here for a while.
I'd sleep and wake with my hand enrapped in his, i'd toss and turn and he would stay, i'd sleep through nights and many days and he'd never leave my side. He'd inhale my sweat and listen to my breathing and share my silence, and with all his heart wish my illness away, in the same silence.
He didn't ask, because he knew that i was resting, that i had no answers, that i had no complaints; this was one of the winters of my life, and he knew that the sun would shine sooner if my time was not prolonged by cold hands and dry skin, by opened wounds and salts rubbed deep within.
He sat, he held, he stayed, he didn't talk, he just was, and that is all he needed to be.
And when after the longest time i got well, he smiled, he let go of my hand, and talked to me like i had never been anything but sunny, anything but sweet, anything but healthy, and he let me go again to be.
He made me, he saved me, he tortured and slayed me, and as i submit, again he saves me.
And as always just lets me be.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Personality Type
| You Are An INFP |
The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist. |
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Snap!
Something happened in the wee hours of the night, or this morning, not sure. A click, a sliding of gears into a fitting position, something snapped, and i can't put my fingers on it. At some point this weekend i understood that being in Egypt is a burden all on its own, a constant effort, forever a work in progress. I heard this snapping, and this time with curiosity i went to the source of it, i watched the gears churning till they reached their moment of rest, i watched as time took its toll, and realized that i had reached the place i am best at; passivity. What is so very good about this place is that it reeks of objectivity and is ideal for decision making, there are no forces swaying you anywhere and any choice you make from here is wholly and completely yours.
Can i refuse to be anyone but me, and refuse to be the me that i have always been?
Can i choose and pick and fix?
Can i channel water and seal off reservoirs of energy that leak into oblivion?
Can i mobilize my space so that no time is wasted away from those i love?
Today i can, tomorrow i will, because i have reached the mother of all objectivity; passivity.
Can i refuse to be anyone but me, and refuse to be the me that i have always been?
Can i choose and pick and fix?
Can i channel water and seal off reservoirs of energy that leak into oblivion?
Can i mobilize my space so that no time is wasted away from those i love?
Today i can, tomorrow i will, because i have reached the mother of all objectivity; passivity.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Sometimes...
Sometimes, when at a crossroad, i sit quietly and try to listen to the winds, try to listen for the universe to tell me what to do, and i can't read the signs
Sometimes, i see someone so poor, so hard working, so brave in the face of misfortune, and my heart aches as if their pain was my own
Sometimes, i feel the weight of my parents burdens, and with all my might i wish to go back in time and to help them out when it mattered
Sometimes, i look back, and wonder what i could have done to make it better for that someone who leaned on me and fell because i didn't know better
Sometimes, while with loved ones, i dream away into their future and fear for them so much, that i don't want to leave them at the end of the night and go home
Sometimes, i feel so many things at the same time, that i get close to tears hoping for a God out there to just send me peace, and tell me which of my feelings are worth feeling
Sometimes, i am caught off guard, and my heart melts unexpectedly, and i feel myself cursing the battles between the different parts of me i was handed with this life
Sometimes i dream, that all is simple, that all is as it should be, and that my path becomes easier and my self more solid
Sometimes i smile, like the world is mine, like my soul is free, like i could want nothing better than today
All these things that happen sometimes happened to me today.
Sometimes, i see someone so poor, so hard working, so brave in the face of misfortune, and my heart aches as if their pain was my own
Sometimes, i feel the weight of my parents burdens, and with all my might i wish to go back in time and to help them out when it mattered
Sometimes, i look back, and wonder what i could have done to make it better for that someone who leaned on me and fell because i didn't know better
Sometimes, while with loved ones, i dream away into their future and fear for them so much, that i don't want to leave them at the end of the night and go home
Sometimes, i feel so many things at the same time, that i get close to tears hoping for a God out there to just send me peace, and tell me which of my feelings are worth feeling
Sometimes, i am caught off guard, and my heart melts unexpectedly, and i feel myself cursing the battles between the different parts of me i was handed with this life
Sometimes i dream, that all is simple, that all is as it should be, and that my path becomes easier and my self more solid
Sometimes i smile, like the world is mine, like my soul is free, like i could want nothing better than today
All these things that happen sometimes happened to me today.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Love
When i was a kid, i thought i would fall in love and marry by my early twenties. I thought love was simple, i thought it just happened, i thought you met someone, felt the rush, the talk flowed, the hands reached out, the mind, body and soul would merge and we would just be good to each other.
Needless to say, this has not at all been the case. By my early twenties i had managed to prove to myself time and time again that it was at the very least, not so simple. Every time i was with someone i cared about, i discovered a new form of love. Every relationship i had, presented emotions that were so very easily misconceived as love; sympathy, dependency, obsession, addiction, fear, boredom, desire, lust, intimidation, infatuation, delusions, etc etc etc etc etc! After a while i became so very conscious of how i felt that today i say i have only been in love once, and in retrospect i secretly sometimes wonder if even that was love. In retrospect to my most recent relationship, i wonder if someone can be in love sometimes and other times not in a relationship with the same person. I have decidedly chosen to use the word love instead of being in love, it is alot less politically complicated and people don't hold you to it.
What i have learnt through five actual relationship that lasted for quite some time, what i have learnt from being with these very diverse men, what i have learnt despite myself, is that love alone is not enough. Some people are born knowing this, or when are told this they listen. I am not someone who listens. I need to experience everything and discover it myself, it is absolutely hopeless to talk to me about love or men. I think i know better, i think i always know better, and oh how ironic it feels when everyone turns out to be right.
I have recently broken up with T, a man i loved, i loved him more than i liked to admit, and if i am absolutely honest there are times when i was in love with him, but it was despite myself, i was never completely happy about loving him.
I met him at a time when i was aware enough and mature enough to see his faults. I embarked on the relationship consciously, i did not suddenly find myself entangled as i often did. I chose to be with someone who was detached and not committed, i chose it because i wanted to learn how to handle it, i wanted to toughen up and of course i liked him alot. After 18 months of being with him (on and off) i know exactly why i left him as well. I left him because love alone, is not enough. I would always be the one building, i would always be the one waiting for him to take another baby step, i would always be making things better for him, i would always be maintaining and guiding him, i would always be his source of energy, and he would always give less back in every way. It is not his fault, this is who he is; selfish and self absorbed, a little boy who was wounded and learned to take it out on the world, i cannot choose him and then complain, i cannot expect him to change for me, i chose him, i signed up for it, and finally when it was time to let go, i chose to leave him. No ill feelings, no resentment or anger, we loved each other the best we could, but love is just, not enough. It doesn't build trust, it doesn't build homes, it doesn't strengthen ethics, love alone does not give you the hope of a good tomorrow that makes today beautiful. It needs water and sun and air to grow or it remains stagnant, and the other factors that rule us get to be too powerful for love to numb them.
I have recently met the man i am currently dating, i had already decided to leave T but i lacked the guts, i lacked the belief that there was better out there, i lacked the energy to leave someone i had no tragic urgent reason to. This person came out of nowhere and made the execution much easier, not because he was there - that much is obvious - but because he reminded me that there is more out there, and that love alone, is not enough.
It can be perceived that i left a man i loved, for the chance to be with a man i felt i could one day love more. T loved me, but this man showed me that he could love me better, make me happier, make my life healthier, help me be a better person and exchange energy with me by giving as much as he takes, if not a little more.
The past few weeks have not been easy, leaving someone you love is not easy, leaving them with someone else already in your life burdens you with enormous amounts of guilt even if you know in your heart that you are leaving because they didn't make you stay. The past few weeks have shown me that leaving intimacy is hard, and embarking on new intimacy is even harder.
So why leave a comfort zone? Who leaves a man she loves for a man she could love?
Someone who understands that love alone is not enough.
Needless to say, this has not at all been the case. By my early twenties i had managed to prove to myself time and time again that it was at the very least, not so simple. Every time i was with someone i cared about, i discovered a new form of love. Every relationship i had, presented emotions that were so very easily misconceived as love; sympathy, dependency, obsession, addiction, fear, boredom, desire, lust, intimidation, infatuation, delusions, etc etc etc etc etc! After a while i became so very conscious of how i felt that today i say i have only been in love once, and in retrospect i secretly sometimes wonder if even that was love. In retrospect to my most recent relationship, i wonder if someone can be in love sometimes and other times not in a relationship with the same person. I have decidedly chosen to use the word love instead of being in love, it is alot less politically complicated and people don't hold you to it.
What i have learnt through five actual relationship that lasted for quite some time, what i have learnt from being with these very diverse men, what i have learnt despite myself, is that love alone is not enough. Some people are born knowing this, or when are told this they listen. I am not someone who listens. I need to experience everything and discover it myself, it is absolutely hopeless to talk to me about love or men. I think i know better, i think i always know better, and oh how ironic it feels when everyone turns out to be right.
I have recently broken up with T, a man i loved, i loved him more than i liked to admit, and if i am absolutely honest there are times when i was in love with him, but it was despite myself, i was never completely happy about loving him.
I met him at a time when i was aware enough and mature enough to see his faults. I embarked on the relationship consciously, i did not suddenly find myself entangled as i often did. I chose to be with someone who was detached and not committed, i chose it because i wanted to learn how to handle it, i wanted to toughen up and of course i liked him alot. After 18 months of being with him (on and off) i know exactly why i left him as well. I left him because love alone, is not enough. I would always be the one building, i would always be the one waiting for him to take another baby step, i would always be making things better for him, i would always be maintaining and guiding him, i would always be his source of energy, and he would always give less back in every way. It is not his fault, this is who he is; selfish and self absorbed, a little boy who was wounded and learned to take it out on the world, i cannot choose him and then complain, i cannot expect him to change for me, i chose him, i signed up for it, and finally when it was time to let go, i chose to leave him. No ill feelings, no resentment or anger, we loved each other the best we could, but love is just, not enough. It doesn't build trust, it doesn't build homes, it doesn't strengthen ethics, love alone does not give you the hope of a good tomorrow that makes today beautiful. It needs water and sun and air to grow or it remains stagnant, and the other factors that rule us get to be too powerful for love to numb them.
I have recently met the man i am currently dating, i had already decided to leave T but i lacked the guts, i lacked the belief that there was better out there, i lacked the energy to leave someone i had no tragic urgent reason to. This person came out of nowhere and made the execution much easier, not because he was there - that much is obvious - but because he reminded me that there is more out there, and that love alone, is not enough.
It can be perceived that i left a man i loved, for the chance to be with a man i felt i could one day love more. T loved me, but this man showed me that he could love me better, make me happier, make my life healthier, help me be a better person and exchange energy with me by giving as much as he takes, if not a little more.
The past few weeks have not been easy, leaving someone you love is not easy, leaving them with someone else already in your life burdens you with enormous amounts of guilt even if you know in your heart that you are leaving because they didn't make you stay. The past few weeks have shown me that leaving intimacy is hard, and embarking on new intimacy is even harder.
So why leave a comfort zone? Who leaves a man she loves for a man she could love?
Someone who understands that love alone is not enough.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tagged
Tagged by Alluring to tell you five things you don't know about me, not an easy task considering all i've spilled out on this blog... let's give it a go...
I tag Herlock, Zoss, Carmen, Sand-e, Kaf (try to participate), and Faisal
- I joined in a Kentucky Fried Chicken basketball tournament with my school team, unfortunately we won and my picture was up on one of the KFC branches for months and months as the KFC tournament champions.
- I sang "Cuban Pete" from The Mask with two friends of mine on live radio through the phone, with no music and only shakers and tabla. This was fifteen years ago.
- I once sat down a 35 year old man and scolded him for 2 hours while he looked at the floor, for making out with my best friend, who was fifteen, as was I.
- I have not followed the news since Bush got re-ellected. I will commence my following of the news when he is replaced.
- I am funnier and tougher than you would ever ever guess reading this blog.
I tag Herlock, Zoss, Carmen, Sand-e, Kaf (try to participate), and Faisal
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