There’s this and there’s that. My whole being just sinks, and tries naturally to go the right way. Then there’s time. We’re running out of time. Some spray the right disinfectant on their hands for the wrong kind of flu. I remember, really, me telling R, that its either we let it go or vent it out. I haven’t been venting out. How do you vent out something when its something that’s time dependent. I always think about pkdick’s articles, when i think about it. I have time issues. Like kurt vonnegaut’s slaughterhouse 5, i have always been unstuck in time. Moving back and forth in a thought. It’s just getting worse and worse because, my self is the greatest enemy.
Even after days of self-control i still fail, and fall back on teenage emo cliches, always mixing my thoughts with R and Jobs. Why? Because they are important. Worse, is that my thoughts of R, are the wrong ones, which i spend most of my time fighting off. I understand this balance between personal life and work has. I have no work, but personal life is fucked up (in my mind actually), therefore i must do good for work. I must keep reminding that it comes with time.
I have been selfish, during mass and church, prayers for myself always turn to my own prayers for R. That’s why God has forsaken me, because i have forsaken myself again. I must say this, because i keep making the same mistakes again and again. I must fight for myself. I already have faith in God his love for R. I ask for more because bad people ask me to keep asking for more.
Last night, i was really vented the wrong way. I walked down pavements talking to myself, arms flailing, re-living every single thing that R said about me when she was angry; That i am selfish, that i am a spoilt brat, that i am a good for nothing, that i have no job, that i am indulgent, that i dont see the good, that i am selfish, that i am spoilt. That is not the R, i know, but i believed last night that those curses and hexes were on to me. All chalk dust, and printed porcelain china. She has all the reason to be angry. Marked my steps into, bus stops, 7 elevens. I was walking then running, then walking then pacing. I ended my pagan pilgrimage to all the bad people regretful, cigarettes tasting like rusted metal, my legs worn. I was conscious about my sub conscious, about that part of me that needs to go away.
I masturbated, clear headed with the dawn, stomach queasy. twice. no visual reference, just pure physical need and spiritual abuse. Crawling with my hands. Wide open. I was empty. It nullified all the letters of the alphabet. I felt animal for a moment, a very short moment. Enough for me to say with that same satisfaction before everything happened like a schoolboy, “yeah.”. Then, i started breathing deeply, slowly, the breathing became constant. Then i was aware i was falling asleep.
I dreamt of a great business deal. That i went shoplifting and tried to hide. I also dreamt that i found a room that i rented, to put things that i felt was useless in my room. I found old issues of Rolling stone, 8 days, plastic clear folders of primary school english essays, pictures of my parents with me as a baby, cedar seconday school badge, etc. etc. All in worn brown boxes. I took them, and put them in the back of car, and was driven off by michael.
I used to love to sleep, a long time ago, i suppressed my need to sleep alot because i liked to look at R while she naps. So i thought i’d rather look at her instead of sleeping beside her, anyway, she needs the rest more. I don’t take naps anymore, but i tried today, drifting into somewhere else, even though i could feel the nausea. Then when i awoke, i gasped for air, my fingers prying some imaginary coffin top. I hated waking up. The green, the brown, my body and my tongue at the back of my teeth; I am who i am still. Then i felt the breathing.
Arms moving up and down, i vomited near a bus stop. In the shower i laid on the floor, gasping not for air, but release. I remember saying to myself last night many times, “there’s no time, there’s no time, and you have time to do this?”. Where are you, in this body of mine, i cannot find you. Minus all the things that you’ve bought and idolized and made a castle of, where are you. Just like when i was young, i made my own castle with bolsters and pillows, and just felt safe, like in some womb.
I asked D once, “Can u remember a time where i did something for my life”, he said “no”.
D once told me, “You’ve missed the boat, deal with it.”
All these thoughts were replaying, under the freedom of lightness, they were what they were. Curses, hexes, wishes and dreams. All moving around me like a pinwheel animation. Flickering in black and white. I tried to feel angry, i couldnt. I feel no anger, because of the guilt. So many, what if’s, what could, that run its course with every thought. I wish i could make a director’s cut of my life up till now, and make some dosh out of it. It was all my decisions. It was all in my head.
Sometimes i wonder if anyone, actually was proud of me, other than my parents, and told other people. I met an old friend of mine, who’s working wtih the NHB. In my conversation she was wondering how i knew about the arts scene. I told her about R, and I wish that i can proud of myself, as i am always proud of R, then, now, and im sure, in the future.
If thou Must Love
Me by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love’s sake only. Do not say
“I love her for her smile her look her way
Of speaking gently, for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of ease on such a day”
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee, and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheek dry,
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love’s sake, that evermore
Thou may’st love on, through love’s eternity.
june 7 2008
