april 30, 2019 – i would like to dedicate this post to american boy as he made me happy. i’ve not been this happy in a while and i feel invincible and life is good. how did he make me happy, you ask ? he actually made an effort to talk to me or vice versa. i had(have) this problem aka a transference of my feelings on to his act of talking to me and i would get super happy by living a lie that he is talking to me because he is totally in love with me. so now a days, it’s like a conscious act on my part to separate the layer of my idiot heart’s lies it tells itself with the facts that he is just talking like he would with anyone else; also when i want to talk to him he makes me breathless and speechless as my heart races at 1000 mph & i find that my mouth is full of bees and so when i talk to him, he can’t understand what i’m saying. oh i can talk to him when i have to talk about our company affairs and i usually have this razor’s edge while talking to him, and i also am glad that he has divine patience when dealing with me; so now that i’m kind of thinking that i’m not being fair to him because of my weakness for him, i’m ungluing my lips and talking to him and it is interesting to talk to him. i feel like i’m exploring him and his interests. so we had a couple of days of nice little chats even if they were about goddamn sports because i think it’s a safe subject. but i loved it all the same. so thank you !
while traveling to work yesterday morning, i was thinking about surrealism and rené magritte and his famous “ceci n’est pas une pipe”. and during the course of the day, i bumped into american boy, while loudly talking to myself that i would like a banana, as i just worked out in the gym and he was at that time, helping himself to another piece of cake (someone is getting married) and so he went “this is not a banana”… i thought this sounds much better “ceci n’est pas une banane”
speaking of the little party for that girl, i was sitting with my colleagues one of our coworkers was telling us that his friend is getting married and one of the wedding registry item was a chain-saw and then he went, he doesn’t even have any trees. my brain concocted so many horror stories. but hear this, when i get married again, that would be my number one request. also, american boy came and sat by me, *curiouser and curiouser* which is strange as he usually avoids me by a mile. and then he seemed to want to jump in a conversation about basket ball i am having with my friend tom, but for some reason didn’t. dear boy, i don’t bite… well, not much ! but that was yesterday, and today he made my fucking day !
goddamn it ! can i be more giddy with love ? words that whisper of hopes and wants, of caresses unvoiced but entirely bestowed, of so much love that the whole world can’t hold so it lives in dreams here, in the silent whispers of my heart that only your soul hears as a song. i would love to come into your world like the soft evening breeze, like the mist from the hilltop, like the late summer sun. i would sit and watch you for hours, love your quick movements, the curve of your lips in an absent smile, the frown on your forehead as you remembered. i would sit and watch and wait until you noticed me, till the moment that your smile lit up my entire world, till you saw and gave in and wanted me. i would stay with you forever, till your eyes were cloudy pale blue, your hair spun snow and your smile slow and loving as i held your hand. i would stay till you were a memory on the mantelpiece, a picture on the wall, your voice a whisper on the evening wind.
on friday (april 26), the train i was on lost power because of some storms… apparently our train just left that spot where the wires came down and it was such a blessing as we could have got tangled up in live wires. but god is good and we were safe. as the train lost power, we had to stay on the train and i wanted to get out of the train and get a taxi but they won’t let me go. so after 3 hours on the train, we finally got evacuated and i got home around 10 pm. situations like this make me panic as i fear that i won’t see my kids again. i was talking to a colleague of mine, who also takes the same train, if he was on that train that day. and he told me that he took an earlier one and so he missed this whole episode and he was telling me a year or two ago, similar thing happened and one lady called 911 because she wanted to go to bathroom… and i was thinking, how is that gonna help, are they going to bring porter potties or something like that ? but apparently she got fined for calling 911 unnecessarily…
also today, i received beautiful flowers from my boss not sure why, may be admin day or something, but i am immensely grateful to receive them… she is a sweet-heart in my opinion, a bit unsure about herself as a person and she tends to be hard on herself. she does these little little things for me and i’m thankful for them.
oh btw, the italian and i had a great night out on saturday night, and i kept waiting for my heart to say something, anything, like i like him. i do like him, but as a friend. i have absolutely no tingling anywhere in my body.
speaking of which, i am currently reading “the color purple” by alice walker. it’s a horrible story of a young girl and it’s truly transformative literature ! it’s such an emotional but also hopeful novel about recovering from trauma, loving yourself, loving others, finding yourself, finding family, and spirituality without being super preachy. celie, the protagonist, is a lesbian with a girlfriend and i find her first time looking at her “button” (clitoris) (in a mirror obviously) super hilarious. i kept giggling like a little girl when i was reading through the lines about masturbation and her lesbian desires.
at our work gym, where somedays i work out with my boy (in my mind we are together, ok), i now acquired another admirer who is like a baby… he keeps stealing looks at me and ok, i’m not sure if he has puppy crush on me or because of the way i move on the treadmill (i’ve some unique moves on treadmill i sort of do dance steps instead of boring walk or run). and i keep thinking, dear boy, i could be your mother ! the rate at which i attract younger men is inversely proportional to my age, where the older i get, the men i attract are younger. at this rate, by the time i’m 70, i should be dating a 18 years old or younger. also, recently i was talking to a girl at my work about this decent looking qb patriots have acquired and she went, he probably is in his twenties and i’m like, why do i care ? where is the rule which specifies that only men can date young girls and women can’t date younger men ? like please ! i’ve dated younger men but usually find them boring as they don’t have much maturity and now a days, the young people are totally boring who discuss mind numbing subjects which have no substance.
we all are fucked up, just in different places but we point out to others, for their cracked parts. because we forget, that someone else is full fleshed in parts we are starved and bruised.
during certain moments i feel as though i’m trying to make it to the other side. almost like the bridge between what i lived through and where i truly wish to be was washed away by some unforgiving tsunami, and this fierce storm keeps me from repairing the bridge so that i can make it safely back to where i used to reside. so that i can make it back to me and a place where i can finally take a deep breath and feel peace instead of panic, as i continue to do battle with this unpredictable sea of emotions while attempting with everything that i have to avoid anymore fallout.