sans douche….

 

y’all,  i’m a showerless siren (that’s the subject of my email to sandalwood) & i didn’t shower since tuesday & i’m home frolicking with other noshower beings…

and look how gorgeous & free we all are…!

on friday, my power went & i stayed home with my kids in spite my friend jack insisted i go stay with him; but i didn’t ’cause my kitties are my family & i thought it’s only fair to go thru stuff as a family & so we bundled up & ground our teeth & ugh….

i did shower on sunday ’cause i had to go to work on monday, & thus j accommodated my showering needs on sunday & monday; monday my power did come, but my furnace’s pilot was off, & so still no heat & no hotwater but i had space heaters so it wasn’t that bad but well, no shower !

wednesday we had a snow storm, & i stayed home, and thursday i stayed home & i told my boss “i’m not coming in as no shower” & friday i’ll be taking off as my furnace tech is coming & so….

excited about finally showering (or not)…

reflections….

shout out to god for protecting me & my kitties from really bad storm and to my kids who have been champions thru all this. since friday evening we have had no power and it was below 40f in our house (yes, we are cold & we have sniffles & we are bundled up & probably it’s warmer outside than our home) and we all piled up into our bed and i felt sorry  for myself and my kids but gathered a profound understanding and respect for nature. i had my house full of candles & it’s beautiful to look at and i had fireplace which did nothing to the cold. falling snow was positively breath taking but only if you have a warm place.

friday i was at work and tim and i were joking about the commute home as snow already started falling and sure enough in spite the fact that i left early and took train, i got home two hours later and majority of that i spent in waiting for the trains to move due to fallen trees and stuff. and also i am fucking thankful for my bmw x5 because that car is marvelous in snow…

sandalwood wanted to come back when he heard we have no power. he is traveling and is somewhere in idaho. his work (he is a vp of tech for a fortune 500 company) demands he travel. a lot.

i am thankful for his emails tho. he discusses what he is reading currently (condoleeza rice’s autobiography; apparently she gave it to him when he met her) and we are doing wall street journal cross words and i must say my understanding of american english has considerably improved as now a days i can fill in the cross word in pen !! what does that say about my intelligence ! i positively preened when i first did it and except for one i had them all filled in correctly.

i was at jack’s on sunday evening as i had to shower & do my laundry and he hurriedly invited his accountant who also goes to the same gym as apparently jon told j (jack) that he would give him a discount in fees if j invites me as well because jon has hots for me… i haven’t been to gym (where j & i workout) lately even tho it’s gonna change soon. so for j’s sake, i chatted with jon a bit but i don’t like jocks one bit; as far as i’m concern they are morons as they don’t read to save themselves and i hate people who don’t read as i like conversation and discussing things intelligently and philosophically and what do i do after sex with someone who doesn’t read ? i may have to take up smoking & i already got asthma. jon may be nice but he is into sports like playing hockey, he let that tidbit come into the conversation and i agree, i haven’t asked him about his reading habits but the way someone speaks with me is enough of an indicator. i expect people to understand me by the way i glance at them or say something without a whole preamble; i have this habit of starting a conversation with a particular person in my head and by the time i actually meet that person, my conversation is in full swing & i may just end up saying like ‘so we should do this’ or ‘we should have dinner’etc and i know, it’s really not right to expect a logical response to this from others, but well…. if you know me, you know what i’m talking about.

all the dark nights with nothing to do and i kept reflecting on piece of my life.

reflection pieces are very important to me and that’s all i do here… but i’ve spent so much time reflecting & i don’t want to do it anymore. i’m channel my eyes forward. no more lingering. no more dipping my toes back into old memory-pools. no more saying, ‘what about from this angle ?’ and then analyzing a situation until i’m down to nothing but dust and cob webs and dryer lint. 2017 was like sticking my hand into a lion’s mouth again and again and pretending that i wasn’t afraid. i did a lot of running. i know that now. but i also did a lot of growing up. also cried in a lot of beautiful places—which is such an annoying sentence.  change is never easy, and i did not—did not at all—allow myself a proper and healthy adjustment. distanced myself from world because i could not bear to see the ways; catastrophic anxieties and fears….

i’m going to work on tenderness this year. tenderness towards myself; tenderness towards my environment; tenderness towards the people who actually care for me. i will allow someone to take care of me and i will allow my grief to overwhelm me. so this year i’m going to be more tender. not let my fear of failure keep me from creating— from creating nourishing, tender pieces. from exploring different mediums. i will begin to trust my hands more—use them to make, for others. to cook, for others. i want to teach myself and allow others to teach me about myself, about themselves, of new ways to translate and understand the earth. there is so much inside of me that needs to be translated, transformed, transfigured. alchemized.

i’ve got to let go of control as well but not sure if i could. can’t control what’s already happened. can’t control loss or losing or grief or longing; i can, though. breathe. i can breathe. not consume and make another limb of my trauma. i can try to understand it and be a better, kinder person because of it. there is so much softness, so much gentle light in this world. in many ways, by the end of this year, i have become angry at that softness. at tenderness. at opening and vulnerability and anything becoming and flowing. i have lost my balance this year; some large ways because of others, in many everyday ways because of myself. but that is not who i am. this is not who i’m. i’m angry sometimes and bitter; but i’m also a child with an uneven heart. i’m trying, in this year, for more tenderness towards myself.

and the world is kind and cruel and full of poetry. i trust my heart enough to hold me & keep me warm.

things i’m afraid to admit…. 1

yes, i’m still attached to you and i look for you. and it brings me a passion and it feeds my addiction and a need for your approval.  there is a strong attachment but i remove you like bullets with my hands… pain carries souls and stories and hurt is one longest memory.

and it hurts, you know. because you were my favorite part of every day. i made you my sun and moon and every star in my hazy dreamy world. but it just doesn’t matter now. isn’t that bizarre ? you put your heart and soul into someone else’s hands and then it just ends and you have to take everything back. but you can’t take everything back. but you want to. but you don’t. and you can’t. that’s the worst part, you can’t. you make them the air that you breathe and then they’re gone and you have to keep breathing whatever toxicity is left behind, and it hurts. my lungs hurt. but no one is going to save me, and that’s the worst part too. you just want someone to take the hurt away for a minute, just a second, but they can’t. you have to keep living until the pain gets dull. you don’t want to because they were the best part of this life and now they aren’t here anymore and you can hardly bear it. but you have to keep living anyways. and it hurts.

but then your compassion doubles. and you learn that you give your love to those who have proven themselves worthy of it. someone who empathizes and like you, who looks at life through a dreamy set of rose colored glasses, and you lie under the bare sky and full moon (not today as it’s raining) and you both solve love related dilemmas with poise and style and all the way you giggle in a silly manner.

for the boy with the backpack, i told you today what you wanted to hear. for a person who craves directness, you weren’t direct or truthful. it’s a shame really as you won’t know heaven till you know me. all i wanted you to do is fight for me.

we both are bad actors and we are waiting for someone to ask the questions we skillfully avoid with passion and purpose.

and my darling, i take photographs, and i’ll make a handful of u-turns and that’s just what life is all about sometimes; taking chances on strangers and not worrying about getting lost along the way. there is always a way out, but that doesn’t mean i can’t make a graceful exit.

little things

my heart is ripe like a juicy mango – full of nauseatingly sweet smell of over-ripened things – and i’m exceedingly tired and i wondered about it on the train ride to home and then it hit me. i was in the gym and instead of weights, i put the ballet workout for half hour and gosh it tired me out.

these days have been full and brimming and chaotic but deeply, deeply beautiful. i have never felt so chaotic yet so beautiful. i have been running for miles and miles and miles in my mind.  while walking to my car the other day from my trolley station i saw the budding bulbs on the ground and they made me so happy and i smiled at them and whispered “hello, i have been waiting for you”. sandalwood gave me two small daisey plants with flowers in them one is kind of deep red or maroon and the other a bright yellow (and he said because yellow reminds him of my smile).

i could index my days; love, age, my cat horus, sandalwood’s fisherman’s hat, peeling my entire dress off and down to just cami and panties, so i can pee in the woods when we went hiking after church (side note: he didn’t come into the church and so i can honestly say, this is a deal breaker and he knows it and said he will try but till he sets foot into the church, there won’t be any ding or a dong of wedding bells), and this day when a little girl held my hand on the train ride home till my stop.

oh this happened this week. i’ve asked tim, my mentor, for a reference letter for mba program and because we were busy at work he didn’t yet get to it and i’m pretty sure he wants to write me a good one and so i wasn’t expecting them to proceed with my app till they finished and curiouser and curiouser, monday i got an email asking me for an interview and i went to tim to say thank you and he was like i didn’t do it yet and but i’m happy anyway because this also means that they may be considering me for a scholarship of sorts which is based on merit and i’m floating in the clouds. and i’m doing a program that i’m so excited. and the other perk of being in school is i will have a student id and i could go to philly orchestra and opera and theater for cheap ! how great is that !

i’m blissful, in learning. in learning around these people like sandalwood and we hold each other so tender. yesterday in the tender night he moved his fingers down my spine, gently pressing the bones one by one while i laid on the floor; his hands so gentle like feathers and i forgot he was actually touching me and i kept seeing these chinese winter yellow jasmine flowers. and he told me that that when he reached the bottom of my spine, he felt this surge – this overwhelming feeling of love and protection.

in stillness, my body stops ringing and i remember i’m full of grief and longing & this has always, always been the case. but when i think of the fact that i’m loved i feel like i’m bursting… and i feel myself being reterraformed and like sometimes it’s too much… and i feel like a bottle and i’m i am sloshing with these memories of laughter & rooms where i have been held gently and being caressed carefully and was spoken with the softest voices we usually reserve for each other on a warm, quiet nights; voices which brim with love.

there are little schools of fishies swimming through my eyes all day and all night.

for someone who feels important, i’m all tangled up in the magic of things…

small reminders

for the past few days rain rolled through our little town and now cold winter air is drifting through the open window once again. i’ve been keeping my words quiet because i’m unsure of many things right now.

i’m slowly getting into the meat of things again and i’ve been accomplishing things, all the while fighting through uncertainty and unsuredness and half the battle is to quiet my brain which is screaming fearfully. i keep lecturing myself to breathe and take baby steps.

on friday i had a chat with horus’ doc regarding removing his feeding tube. he asked me to bring him in if my primary vet doesn’t do it. i already checked with my vet but she was unsure of it as she didn’t do it for a while and i was reluctant to drive a screaming and stressed out kitty over 2 hours just to get his stitches out. so i got home and watched a you tube video on how to remove a feeding tube and as i am a scientist and i thought how hard could this be as i have dissected out the brains of fruit flies. so i proceeded to remove horus’ stitches after properly sterilizing my eyebrow scissors and removed the goddamn feeding tube and cleansed the area and put a collar back around his neck so he won’t scratch it. after i removed the tube, he pouted for an hour but he came back to my bed and slept. i checked the wound site on sat morning and it’s healing nicely and i am keeping an eye on it till it’s completely healed. the biggest problem was to keep him steady while i was trying to get at the stitches as he kept moving. i wasn’t sure but i think, he pulled it out himself the moment i snipped the last stitch as he jumped off of the counter and all i saw was this tube flying in the air after him.

my friend jack keeps asking me to go running with him around 5 am on sundays and excuse me ! what’s with white people and running ? it’s well and good for you, as you have flat chest but have you seen me ? my boobs are like halves of a pineapple and there is no sports bra on this planet which would contain them tight enough so they won’t jiggle and move when i run ! even when i was thin as a rake, i had them and i used to look like a stick figure with boobs ! and not to speak of the time jack was proposing ! 5 goddamn a.m. !! is he crazy ? i ain’t getting out of my bed (even tho i am awake for all intents and purposes) at that ungodly hour, on a sunday, unless my house is on fire…. scratch that, unless i’m on fire.

at work one of my colleagues also asked me if i would consider walking from down town to amtrak station which is a few block and i laughed and said, may be ! walking isn’t bad but the humidity in my city is intense and it plays a number on my lungs.

i’ve jump started on my spring cleaning as my kids were home all the winter and quite frankly the air is getting a bit stale. and oh, this weekend an indian movie actress died at a young age (54) and i think it’s a shame. not a very big fan of her’s as she always acted similar to lucille ball you know how bimboish she acted and trying to give an impression of a complete airhead and i don’t like such people and frankly it takes my all to not slap them on their face and say “use your fucking brains”. and oh, i also read somewhere that marilyn monroe put that kind of show in spite of being very smart because that’s what men like; a complete moron who flutters their eye lashes and coyly say “oh sir, aren’t you a genius”. how ridiculous ! it’s just not them who flutter their lashes and at least they have an excuse, but once i was watching an interview with katie couric and she was fluttering her eye lashes like there is no tomorrow and i was super angry. i know men are weaker sex but i would never take advantage of that. i would rather stroke a man’s dick rather than a man’s ego to please him if he isn’t deserving. some men are intelligent and i would genuinely compliment them.

well, this weekend my friend and i made plans for his visit in march and he wanted me to return with him to new zealand for a few days and it’s appealing to me. the traveler in me had to take a hiatus due to my panic attacks which i developed after i lost my child but i am hoping i would be able to travel to all these gorgeous places i have maps for and i keep marking the routes for the same.

i keep wandering off to all these faroff places with the boy i am in love with and keep telling him all these things i haven’t said. being in love with someone from this distance feels more bittersweet than i expected and i keep pressing my fingers to my heart. i think it is okay if you get quiet at the wrong times because i do that as well.  and it is okay if you get wrapped up in moment, tangled in what should have been said, if you tie knots around the word you don’t have courage to say.

i don’t know if i would be able to leave or if he would stop me. for all those faded friendships… i have a fire in my finger tips and i want to believe in this, in me and in you and the way your eyes burn when you look at me….. why won’t you believe in us ?

for still being here, and i’m not ready to give up the fight

all the stars

IMG_2658 (1)

an excerpt from our night. anubis et moi, rocking to “all the stars – kendrick lamar”

i’ve finally submitted my application y’all for an mba and i’m chatting up people so i can move ahead and use my intelligence appropriately. i’m excited to learn something new but i’m already tightly scheduled with no time left for myself but my circumstances have made me work harder so i can’t relax yet but i keep reminding myself that this is only temporary and yes, one of these days i too shall enjoy crème brûlée cheese cakes, and pastel sunsets and hopefully it will be with sandalwood or on my own as “places are so much lovelier when one is alone – du maurier”

sandalwood appeared on my doorstep with a guacamole grilled cheese sandwich and i must say, for a pretentious person, i love grilled cheese sandwich and i ate it for the first time when i came to america and julien and i were visiting one of our friends and she lived on a farm and the sandwich her mum made was yummy and it was julien’s first as well and it was a tremendous joy; but i can’t cook one even if someone put a gun to my head and oh i tried to cook it numerous times but i think i suck in a most brilliant way. but the boy scored again with his brilliant guacamole grilled cheese sandwich feat.

i’ve been spending time plotting my future (mostly financial as i’m broke) but it’s fun though. you know. to earn money and multiply it and invest etc. i dated millionaires before i got married to jace (and after julien) but they all bored me and mocked me because here i was working hard to get a degree and there they are high school drop outs but millionaires. and i actually admired them but they were boring because they wanted a trophy wife, unintelligent and without an opinion, blonde, lounging by the poolside, sipping something alcoholic and having no opinion except for the temperature of the water. and i’m not that person you know. the only way anyone can grab my attention or respect is by challenging my intelligence and they were desperate and i was like no thank you !

julien was an aristocrat but he was as humble as he was wealthy and jace worked hard for his money and i admired his intelligence.

i have so many things still up in the air and some days i just want to give up and curl up in a corner and go to sleep and not wage wars but when i see my pretty little babies faces, adrenaline bursts into my veins.

i got sick on sunday with flu thanks to one of my colleagues who was at work on friday in spite of him going through flu and coughed a lot and i knew in 48 hours i’ll come down with flu (viral incubation is 48 hrs) and so monday i informed my boss i’ll come and collect my laptop and leave and she was like stay put. i spent monday fading in and out.

and there is this girl who kept emailing me all day long with honey dripping right through my laptop screen and who i can’t stand as she is so goddamn fake (and dangerous if you don’t watch out) and once she realized that i’m on a solid ground with my boss (there was a futile attempt to make my life miserable and for a while they were successful till my boss figured out the truth as i refused to talk to her about my pain but just ground up my teeth) and so she is now all lovey dovey and i’m now gagging and wanting to throw up because i’m not fake but i’m polite and i give minimum respect they deserve as a human being in spite of my personal feelings. the most incredulous thing for me is that people underestimate me and my intelligence. and i assess a person’s intelligence by talking to someone for a couple of seconds. i’ve a good mind to photocopy my resume and rent a crop duster or a drone and make these copies rain in my office !

but all is well that ends well… and meanwhile i’m plotting my success in the company and i’ll bulldoze anyone who would stand in my way while charming the pants off of the right people.

an update on the reasons for my existence and the joy and happiness of my life aka my kitty babies. horus has started eating on his own and halle-fucking-leuiah and i’m floating in the nebula with happiness and i’m thinking i would bring him to the vet sometime this weekend to get his feeding tube removed. skittles, my kid with ruptured third eyelid, as i predicted completely recovered and she still has a bit of healing to happen, but she is happy and her eye looks fine and i’m sure her vision is normal. the rest of my children and doing well by god’s grace.

my friend will be visiting me in march and he lives in new zealand and i’m seeing him after many moons and so i’m i thrilled to bits. i am putting together a fun day or two with him.

i’m planning to get acupuncture for my asthma and ugh.. not too thrilled about needles as i would cry shamelessly. and i’ve scheduled a full body massage (which includes massaging tits and tummy, and bum) so i could detox. i try and get this done once every six months but it has been over a year.

i’m miserable slightly as i am trying to move on and as much as i would like to forget ze american boy, it’s hard as i still see him around. but i’m getting better and i scribbled a few lines for him for his birthday.

as usual, this does not belong here, it is not poetic, it is personal and it hurts but i just need to say this before i forget.

it’s your birthday, so i bought you a cake, i would have baked you a cake, a towering one with three layers of raspberry infused chocolate mousse cake.

i met you at a very strange time in my life. i felt a little sad and nostalgic for new years where i was ready for so much and so little all at once. if life went the way i wanted, i probably would have hung out with you, laughing and may be shared a bag of chips with you; i have a love affair with bottles and i would have given you a blue bottle from an antique store.

i loved you yesterday and i loved you today. i loved you in a complicated and compromising and confusing way that made me uncomfortable and unapologetic for my actions. i loved you and i was stupid, so stupid in a confusing way, stupid in the way i’d never be able to keep my hands off of you, stupid in the way i had spilled my secrets i never knew i had, stupid in the way i’d cry every time i thought of letting you go, stupid in the way i would have been reckless and bold. but i loved you. i am sure of that, no matter how many silences, awkward half-conversations, nights when i  soaked the sheets with hot salt water tears.

i was careless and consumed, you know.

but happy birthday my darling !

 

 

either way, i’m here

months of late night emails and candid small talk. i never shared my secrets with you, just the facts and blatant observations. i keep plotting day dreams of how things could be if i had my way and but the truth is i don’t know how to transition to you.

i spend too much time talking about distance: the way two people can be separated by things both tangible and intangible, not just points on a map and miles on road markers, but also the emotional secrets you can keep from someone. there’s been this theme sparking everything i touch lately, a lingering notion that throughout my life, i’ve been spending my time picking and choosing my romantic entanglements based upon how far i can keep someone away from me. it’s been tripping over strangers. it’s been sending my feelings through black letters on white screen and stealing looks and sighing. it’s been avoiding confrontations and making excuses. it’s been holding my breath for a possibility to pull through when i’ve been nervous over the american boy since mid-may of last year.

you sat on the edge of my bed telling me how much you would love to kiss me (and fuck me) and i laughed and told you if i did that it would be for wrong reasons. you laughed as well and teased me about my absurdity.

all my big talks about wanting to get fucked (too true) but when the moment came, i remembered all my rules about premarital sex and i’m glad you are patient and understanding and more importantly, you are kind. i conflict between desires and the plain logic.

but the reality is, i miss my life with boys who accepted me for my crazy, and fucked up ways; my habit of making blowjob jokes at the most inappropriate time; didn’t mind me when i was feeling lost and alone and horrible and laughed at the way i mocked the girls who take themselves far too seriously; and who shared books with me and comforted me when i was at my lows and slowed me down when i was going a super sonic speed; i miss singing really bad songs with them and let me know when it’s raining because they know i smile when the weather is cold and let me dream a little and save me from myself.

nostalgia comes in phases, of course and billowing in when i’m not paying attention, lying quiet some days and hitting hard on others.

but i have learned to be thankful for the things that are mine to take: like text messages you send and elaborate stories you told in excited voice (sometimes leaving them on my voicemail), spontaneous visits and emails spilling things you won’t admit out loud yet. but, i am not there yet. in the last few months, i’ve found myself in several separate moments where i’ve had opportunity to share something with someone i’m in love with and i always hoped to stumble into moments to say things i was afraid of saying and always showing up at his doorstep with empty hands full of potential.

in one year, my entire life changed because of one person’s triggering familiar features. though i’ve hinted at it before, i don’t know if i can fully explain how much that scared me. i was not expecting to rearrange all the plans i had set in stone, the concrete ideas plotted out in order.

i wasn’t ready to bump into you. since then, my world has been reeling and burning and challenging me to exceed all of my faults, to unearth the past and speak it without a shaking voice, to build towards something new, something bold.

last night i sat in the dark listening to mozart, something i always do when i miss me when i was happy. it is a small reminder of the strange and wonderful coincidences that happen to fall upon us quite frequently. we spoke for a brief time earlier about nothing in particular, and then you said you would marry me if that’s what it would take and i felt that familiar swarm of emotions well up inside of me, something that starts in the chest and makes my heart come to life, each beat moving faster than i expected until i have to count my breaths just to calm down. i could lace this up with all the poetic nonsense my mind can spin, but all i can think about is how this is big.

i am afraid of drowning in nostalgia, reawakening the haunting memories i tried to bury deep down inside my rib cage. i was afraid maybe i’d regret letting go of all the things i had lost. instead, now i sit in the dark and i don’t feel a goddamn thing. i cried in the shower because i had forgotten the way the water burned my eyes and laughed at all the jokes still being told in a world where time had seemed to stop: everything was exactly the same.

sometimes i feel like maybe i could explode.

for now tho, i need you to know that i would say yes if i thought i’m right for you. but you have to wait. i repeat this to myself when my heart feels heavy and my mind sputters with exhaustion from counting unknown days on my fingertips. i have told you some of my secrets printed on paper in my handwriting and you have apologized for being nervous when we talk and i cried once, but i don’t think you could tell and you get quiet when you are unsure about things. we are close, but never close enough. but we have time. we have so much time.

i could spend years getting to know you over and over again, and may be i could grow into you, wrapping my branches around yours.

and the answer is always yes but wait for now.

for the loves of my past

my life is a wonderful one’ i keep mumbling as if to make myself believe.

i always overthink things that shouldn’t be overly thought. time is a selfish bitch and its consistence and constance is driving me to a point of sad sad insomnia. there’s not enough time.

there’s a boy in my bed reading poems out loud to me and my ribcage hurts when i breathe, but i’m happy, you know. there are so many people to say goodbye to and i’m afraid that tomorrow i’ll be too sad to function properly.

is it just positively not a good idea at all to want to say i love you to someone via text when you’re going to see him tomorrow. i came very close though. i think so, i don’t know. what would you do if someone said i love you and goodbye in the same sentence ? because that’s what i wanted to do and it’s complicated. i don’t know, i don’t know. today was a husky and dusky colored day. i feel like my winter has been one drawn out goodbye. everything is so up there, out there, somewhere that isn’t here. but i’m ending things. collecting the remaining pieces of me and putting them in my pockets.

my life is a wonderful one. i just have to smooth over all the edges that i’ve roughed up in the past, errr, two or three months.

this is an accumulation of my mind. i’m not saying anything anymore. there are no words for how i’m supposed to be feeling. i just want to drive around with my eyes closed until there’s nowhere to go anymore.

a love letter to my boys who don’t exist anymore.

you. i love you.

you may be faded images or i may be driving with my eyes closed. blurred humans or i’m going blind or i may be sleep deprived. i loved you more than i love sweet potatoes. i’ve never said that to anyone since you.

and i’ve fond memories of you; i’ve tucked these memories of you in my every cell to keep me alive and not feel so dead; i warm up to your memories and i remember the bonfires and drinking tea from a tea cup and falling over everyone and dancing with you and smelling your cigarettes and beautiful stories and vanilla flavoured cigars and collecting fall leaves and my electric blue dress and stumbling and talking trash and laughing with you and holding your hands and tracing your spinal cord and nibbling your lower lip & singing whatever and swaying to your guitar notes and forgetting about everything.

and oh how i loved to dance with you and i loved to move in the rhythm of you.. i’d rather not say hello to you and remember you; but you keep tugging at my heart’s skin, bringing up what i’d rather have forgotten. i can’t stop scratching these scars you left turning me upside down. i’d rather be under this spell of no return, knowing that there’s no winning here; i always lost myself in you and i’d rather lose myself in you and i’m lost in you.

ps: in case you are wondering about my valentines’ day… some unknown sent me flowers and they were waiting for me on my door step. i’m thinking it’s the anonymous guy/girl/it who texts me and yesterday i asked him/her/it for his/her/its name and no reply but i got a valentine text today again… robbie made weekend plans for dinner; sandalwood is in my bed reading me romantic poems in the hopes of getting into my pants and oh he gave me a rose dipped in gold; i’m planning to collect a bouquet; my ballet teacher came back from russia and ordered me to get myself stretched and so this evening, i got stretched thoroughly for 90 mins and i’m exhausted. i’m going to bed !

:/

today was rather a sleepy day… i was still feeling the after effects of my cold and yesterday it rained all day and so the blahness continued to this monday which is already a big blah…

so i think i have a secret admirer…. the person i mentioned before and who texts me bible verses etc anonymously and today he (or she) actually wrote a very lengthy and a very sweet text without actually saying that i’m pretty important to him & what a precious thing i’m to him (or her?) oh well…

and today only i was talking to this coop girl at my work with who i giggle that i don’t get stalked anymore … true story, not to brag but i had so many stalkers and admirers and this with me just being a tom boy…. anyway i don’t understand why this person doesn’t come out and ask me out or let me know who he or she is…

coming back to the point, my heart twinged a little when i saw ze american boy today. i get pulled to him as a magnet pulls iron but gosh i really don’t know what to do ? each day when i see him, i remind myself to breathe and i teach my heart to unlove him. i recently considered to quit the job but then i changed my mind as i have a family to feed.

sandalwood is becoming somewhat important to me and i’m conflicted. i like him and i think he would be good for me. i haven’t decided yet.

to a certain degree, the things i write here have become impersonal or more like journal entries. i don’t name people so you, the reader, won’t bond with these characters… i have exchanged them to their characteristics and to the ideas of them. names and human characteristics have been exchanged for the space between people, for how i personally am moved by skin, by language, by touch — by everything that falls around love, that isn’t directly the object of my affections. i like it this way because then while sharing my experiences i still have that uncrossable bridge between me and you… with my friends i talk explicitly, or as a matter of factly; as after all, i am a scientist. i down play the workings of my heart with everyone. but you, the blog readers are ok as you are anonymous.. to the comfort of the anonymous i’ll write of everything that moves me but won’t go into details about things that are dangerous to put into words. that’s how i’ve always been, tho. i keep myself closed and i distance myself with other human beings. call it defense mechanism or just being arrogant; apart from the boys who don’t exist anymore, there will never be another person who will hold me up against the light and see every facet of me, every color and every hue that i can become. when these boys died, they emptied me of my essence.

i often think of us as “the little prince” (le petit prince) and that there are so many little island worlds we all belong to respectively. we hold so many planets in us and we won’t let any other human beings to land on it or let alone visit. and that’s so lonely a feeling.

what i would like is to find one human who can soothe the ache of wanting to discuss every molecule of my life. i want to be able to touch someone’s arm or shoulder or knee and understand the fear that consumed them in their childhood, the happiness of their freedom, the way they fell headfirst into love for the first time. i love stories.. and i want to know how each of us accumulate all these worlds, all these stories i wanted to live and have lived and the dreams…. all the dreams, i had carefully weaved…

i think what i desire the most is understanding, that falls deeper than words into a space between two humans that can’t be touched by language. sandalwood talked about this the other day how someone he knew talked about how we communicate with each other…. i am not much for communicating my heart matters…what i do is i rip out my heart and use it as a pen and scribble myself out into words…and currently that’s what I’m doing.. instead of holding the american boy in my arms and listening to his heart, i write about my love for him but also i’m painfully aware of his relationship status… for fuck sake he is almost married !

how can i explain to someone the sound of an ocean beneath a moonlight beam… you need my heart for that. i suppose i’m yearning; nay i’m coveting… there are certain people who are so in tune with the subtle nuances of my being. there are certain people who i can tell are hurting just by how they hold their hands on their lap or press their lips. but still, there’s always something missing. i may just be looking for something completely selfish. i may just be looking for the basic and primal human relationship.

it’s just loneliness, i think.

i’m just lonely, i think.

actually i am lonely for him.

but the thing is this ! still, still and still i’m hopeful.