wicked

when i walked into my home this evening, i was greeted by this very beautiful fragrance of glade’s enchanted garden which perfumes my home in a most glorious way…. i walked in with a handful of cat food as usual. i was thinking as i walked into the house that i’ve taken myself out of the context recently; like my family and poetry and stripped myself out of everything. stripping myself down to bare skin and coming to a new place in my life and i can actually say, i’ve started growing into a new skin, a new myself really; i keep taking selfies of myself and i can see my eyes are definitely tired, but excited and there’s a new glow in them… my shoulders are curled-in with exhaustion, but i’m arriving at a new place. i even started introducing myself to myself, laughing and there’s a new bounce in my steps and i keep humming and dancing while waiting at the printers and copiers and in front of elevators…

all i want to do these days is the opposite of everything that i have been doing. touching-and going. climbing mountains, breathless in the rain. i’m disappearing into the folds of my blankets as soon as i come home (well after i feed my kids of course) and sometimes i go for a drive through the woods.

i’ve started becoming restless again. restless feet and restless hands. and i keep exhaling and exhaling. march is difficult you know. i’m almost afraid to remember. it’s difficult and it’s still so close. i come here to write but raking through my memories which induce pain and panic attacks, and later spending hours incapacitated, face-down on my woolly rug touching the tiny ridges of the wool of it to make sure that i’m still here, that i have a body to remember to return to.

i feel brave and then suddenly i don’t feel brave at all. i want to call sandalwood and say “let’s go for a walk” and maybe we go for a walk, and treading beneath a canopy of blank branches and endless fallen leaves, and talking about the importance of the smell of dark-green to someone who will let me forget without asking too many questions.

all i want to do is sit in my room and smell the beautiful fragrance and listen to the rain coming from above. hear the rushing noise of the cars outside of my home, the pitter patter sounds of my kids’ feet on the hardwood…  my kids fill me up with warmth. there is no warmth in the memories of what has hurt, anywhere in this little space of mine. even the old letters that have been written to me are stuffed somewhere in a box. the whole of this week i kept ouching and my back still huts and i thought it’s because i pulled my back muscle while exercising but that coupled with lungs hurting as a result of flared up asthma made my life miserable.

i am trying to understand a lot of things about home-making. today i was chatting with a colleague of mine and i was telling her that i am not domestic at all. i am looking for a man who would make me a cup of coffee in the morning and do my laundry; like jace used to. she laughed and i told her that i’m a card carrying feminist. she later emailed me a few webinars from women.

recently i came very close to telling off american boy and that he can go fuck himself. i also would have drawn a diagram of the same. but i didn’t and i swallowed my anger and grew more patient. sandalwood laughed and made fun of me and asked me when i finally tell him off, i should record it on my iphone and that he would provide me the newest version possible.

he is looking to buy an apartment in downtown philly so we can split time between city and country and i’m looking to buy an investment property but not sure if i could afford but i must. but it’s sure is fun though to go and look for houses. he is good to me you know. he keeps me stable and this scares me. i’m a wild child and i’m used to getting hurt and i don’t want to hurt him.

yesterday i was completely pissed and furious, as i was hungry and went to café and that had no decent food and it just pushed all my buttons.. my cafeteria has increasingly became unfriendly towards vegetarians and i see the same stuff day in day out and man, if i have to describe myself as a cartoon, i would be having steam coming out of my reddened ears, eyes and nose, etc. and when i came back to my office, i wrote a very nasty feedback and so, when i went downstairs to get food this afternoon, there were more vegetarian dishes ! squeaky wheel and grease and all that good stuff !

oh here’s an annoying detail of my life. i had a big argument with tom from my work re. pull ups (chin-ups) v pull downs and boy, he just doesn’t seem to understand the difference. he kept telling me that it’s the same motion and i kept explaining the science and i even sent him an article. all this came about as i was bleating to him about my inability to do pull ups and how i would like to be able to do at least one respectable pull-up. i think he was just trying to annoy me.

and here’s a funny detail. today my boss was trying to mail an infant girl dress to someone and i was helping her and she is like, you can’t have that one as you won’t fully fit into it and so i told her, “sometimes you don’t want to fully get covered by anything” and i winked at her while giving her my most wicked and naughtiest smile you could imagine. she laughed so hard at that. she has this belief that i’m very nice and i don’t curse, and the worst curse to come out of my mouth would be shucks etc etc. and gosh if only she knew. to be fair i keep warning her about me that i’m not that nice or innocent and that i’m a total bitch; but she doesn’t believe me.

all my life has been fascinating to me. maybe i should explain, all this learning i do and learning how to live safely and comfortably in a space i designed for myself. i keep picturing open windows and doors in a house with wooden floors and somewhere set in a mountain and the curtains gently swinging with the breeze.

that’s what i want to achieve this summer. i have started a memorial garden you know, for jace… i want to build again this summer and put in a water fountain or may be a koi pond. i  want to plant all kinds of colorful plants with beautiful flowers and i want to romp on the grass with my cats or have a picnic in my front yard with sandalwood and i want to read a bunch of books while listening to the birds sing. looking forward to my june monsoons and july summers.

i want to make vegetable stew and homemade banana bread. last night i took down a piece of fabric i pinned into my wall. i’m planning to fill my house with vases of flowers sandalwood keeps bringing me and i made food. for two ! i took photos. a signifier of my home-making. of my ability to settle. i am not a runner, but i hid before. not anymore. all i want to do is stay, to stay and to have that be okay.

all i want is this smallness, the gentle, tender thing of chopping a potatos and peppers. and preparing something, something small and savory to eat with our hands afterwards. i fantasize about the warm lighting, about the cold rain falling outside, of someone i love looking at me and knowing that he loves me too.

i feel simple and fragile and very small. maybe my dreams have always been leading me to this. to a place that resembles home. safety. where i’m myself, first and foremost, before i’m a daughter, a sibling, a lover and a friend. i’ve got no money. only a mortgage on a good house, nestled in a good neighborhood. nobody knows what i went through to get here. mostly falling, crawling and terrified. hiding a lot. picking myself up, dusting and shaking off loose scales and i’m emerging tho. and in all this i must remember to thank god over and over again; and i think my cats and i (and may be sandalwood) can build happiness and a world with roses, rainbows and glitter… a lot of glitter and, i think my kitties and i are gonna be okay ! i really really think so.

crimson

spent past few days in a soupy, mushy feeling (still mush and soupey) and moping in general because patriots lost and i felt that loss deep to the marrow of my bones. after a good cry, i decided to continue to mope around a bit. i got a nasty cold and i stayed home for the better part of this week and i stopped watching news (stupid eagles are all over our local news). i listlessly flopped on my bed, my couch and sometimes with my face buried deep into my pillows. shot down all invites for dinners but shall go out on sunday because my friend wants to do a valentine dinner with me. wondering if i could get a reservation to “love” restaurant. sandalwood stopped gloating after i threatened him that i would banish him out of my life. i still owe robbie a movie and so goes my love life… after much analysis i found out that once i remove sex from the equation i am perfectly content being single with my kitties. and my laziness is already setting in and i don’t want to go through all these motions of finding a suitable mate just to get a perfect and satisfying scratch for my sexual itch.

and then there’s this “children” question. i’m conflicting between wanting children and not wanting them and i am definitely not gonna conceive but would love to adopt but children are rather problematic and the main downside is they are not cats. also, i am thinking i don’t want any man with kids. cats and other animals yes but no kids and this would completely rule out the american boy because he has some. i don’t want to compete for his affection as i’m a complete narcissist (and also unfair) as he probably would have to compete with my cats for my affection.

the boys i go out with are young and they keep telling me they don’t want kids, but i think they should and they probably will start feeling it when their biological clocks starts ticking louder.

and oh, side note and very irrelevant note… during my mopey sessions (after superbowl was lost) and even before that time, i watched a few movies (crime and serial killers and what have you) and for whatever reason (the movie titles aren’t worth remembering) every movie played this song at least once “crimson and clover” and so come monday my brain latched on to it and i woke up humming “….. and clover” having forgotten the word “crimson” and too lazy to google and so the whole monday and tuesday i went “la la la and clover” and then i went off on a tangent and remembered a particular episode of “frasier” where frasier crane forgets the words to a song “buttons and bows” (look before you leap episode)…. after cracking myself up silly tuesday night, i finally googled and i found out the song was “crimson and clover” and am now at peace.

i conflict whenever there is a remote possibility of finding happiness. i’m self-sabotaging that way and i don’t know how to stop myself and free myself from this negativity. i’m fighting very hard for a life where i feel as free as possible. trying not to get tethered to a place or material possessions save for the ones which i’m not done being sentimental about. i’m tethered to my cats tho because they save me from not getting lost in the abyss of my life. they are my lighthouses and perfect reminders for my sanity.  there has been someone that i deeply love and living very, very far from me. it has all been too much for so long and i’m exhausted. loving someone is exhausting. worrying about people is exhausting.

in my solitude, i slowly traced words that have been on my mind, very softly and gently in my head and then let them go, dropped them into where lost words fall when you finally let them go like the way petals fall from your fist. i keep muttering to myself i don’t want to hold onto the past anymore. i don’t want my past to define me. i just want. i just want to sit barefoot in a green place and eat something fresh, hand-plucked, from a garden. not eden. i am no eve. what i want is a place fought for. a place that i deserve. and i, maybe too much to ask, want a butterfly to flutter in slow ellipses over me, and land on the shoulder of someone that i love, sitting close by. and i want to think “yes, this is it. this is all there is. this is it.”

i’ll fight, and i’ll keep fighting, always and for as long as it takes, for my right to be, for all of our rights to be. to laugh, in open space, with no blade of fear no silver of shame pressed against the napes of us. i will fight for my little kitties and for my peace and for our happiness  and for all of the happiness of my friends, my future soulmate, my former lovers and loves and future loves — but when i am done, when i’m finally done, when i put down my sword, breathe out, and say god i’m so fucking tired — please, just let me go into my softness and let me be. i don’t want to just survive, forever. i don’t want to spend my entire life proving to myself that i can endure, and for that to be the cap over my head. i want, to extend myself outward. to settle so soft that everything around me warms. to be at peace with no thoughts for future, so that no clutter no banging of pans no fire at the edge of my door can phase me anymore. i just want to be calm. may be with butterflies fluttering over my head. or landing on the palm of my hand.