comfort

Mid-day

Ran out of the office mid-day to get some air/run errands..Evanston brings the best in me in the worst way -- I loose track of time, sense of purpose, of present..I literally get lost. Maybe cause I only find myself in Evanston when I'm in love or in trouble, and I can't stand myself any other way..I went into Gap (granted, I'm the only person to have Gap-related sentiments) and suddenly acutely missed Him. For the first time since we split. It wasn't a regret of any kind, we're both happier where we are, it wasn't at all about happiness. This rugged softness and cleanliness and subtle scents of summer, linen, worn denim were all His. So I stood there for a while, alone, embracing this untimely, belated, begone memory. I didn't know why, why now, where this is taking me but I stopped on my tracks to think of him and breathe that familiar air of us together, in love, in this very Gap, ages ago. I even took a mens jean jacket and tried it on over nothing but a necklace remembering how I loved to wear his clothes. Then I hung it back up and marched right out, past the Bookman's alley, past the coffee shop..back to work.

Veronichka

detstvo

Easter

door

pose

Paris

Off with my head !!!

I'm steadily gaining on my alter ego..There's less "why".. I stopped seeking reason.. These are stacked implosions of varying magnitude, no one's hurt, no one knows.. I do. My head is gone..gone with Nick Cave's fairytale sadness and doom and wild roses..Tropic of Cancer re-read on lunch hours..I'm late everywhere..my senses jolted out of rut by this throbbing tender lust..like a low grade fever its making me ache..spring fever.

I'm in the mood for travel..

Sladkaya N

...

Квадрат окна в потолке каменного мешка лестницы, никогда не видела раньше. Сегодня я замечаю все -- все мимо чего хожу каждый день и не вижу, а сегодня вдруг увидела. Оказывается на шпиле церкви по пути на работу вместо креста -- трубадур. Оказывается то что я считала музеем -- ферма и сегодня там пасутся коровы. И наверное ежедневно, но ежедневно я их не вижу. Слева от меня живет пожилой джентльмен с тяжелым психическим расстройством -- весь его день расписан по минутам, к его левому уху привязан будильник и он ходит с ним держась за стены и ждет что же будет дальше..у него нет "сейчас", только потом. Он не может доесть завтрак потому что приходит "потом" и он должен бежать чистить зубы.. Байрон. Родом с Эквадора, слепой с 9 лет, он говорит на 8-ми языках и играет на всех инструментах. Когда Байрон не говорит по-французски с гаитянскими санитарками и не играет на гармонике, он кричит. Так истошно что хочется встать и пойти убить его этим будильником. Байрон боится тишины. Он, как прОклятый мартовский заяц, неусыпно следит за временем. А время тикает ему в левое ухо что-то страшое и Байрон кричит. Справа от меня живет очень тихий попугай. У него депрессия. Остальные обитатели, одуревшие от воплей Байрона, потихоньку колотят его и тогда Байрона надо спасать. Hапротив сидит улыбчивая бабушка и всегда желает мне смерти, не снимая улыбки, иногда подмигивая. Дружу с попугаем..
Это было вчера, вчера был разгар весны и много солнца. А сегодня тьма и пурга, но сегодня я дома..

in passing

I want to kiss your mouth every time you speak..or smile. Your full soft lips with a hint of honey and cigarettes and something so promising it makes me weak in the knees..I love the way you look for me in your sleep, the way you moan a little when your hands glide up and down my body, the warmth and wetness of little kisses planted where your lips meet my bare skin, our warmth and peace together..asleep, yet aware of each other. Its a miracle.

2 y/o, good as new

08:45 pm: on happiness
Happiness is dull. Unlike anticipation with its chances and worries and what ifs -- happiness is a consummated affair much like death..You can't top happiness. You have to fight comfort like cancer to stay alive. But you won't. Comfort's addictive. Eventually, you'll have to blow it all up to be able to feel again..pain, anger, lust, regret -- above all, for its happiness you're doomed to crave when the smoke is gone..Anticipation is the true happiness. To feel. That acute tingle of uncertainty..it won't sustain you, but what's left is but a compromise. Every day compromise to talk yourself into choices you made..Free not to make choices ?..Strong enough to be your own person ?..Lucky you. Lucky miserable lonely you..

I see dead people..:)

lost and lost

I got him on my mind today..filled the car with his music. As if slowly bleeding, I feel no pain, but I'm weak..He taught me how to say goodbye and for that I'm thankful, if a bit sad. I'm at the edge of a glass house looking down, lightheaded, lighthearted, light as a whisper. I say his name and I loose him, again, only now it feels ok, it feels good to let go.

lost and found

"Well the lush separation unfolds you --
and the products of wealth
push you along on the bow wave
of the spiritless undying selves.
And you press on God's waiter your last dime --
as he hands you the bill.
And you spin in the slipstream --
timeless -- unreasoning --
paddle right out of the mess."

calm..ish

I read the last post and realized it is borderline psychotic..definitely manic with delusions of grandure, I learned enough psychiatry and been round crazy people too long to know that much. BUT I FEEL GREAT !!! This is March, getting under my skin..I mixed all sorts of fun this weekend, I'm spent. I am officially a sex addict, good coffee addict, turn-your-head-off-mid-meeting daydreaming addict, pump your heart out workout addict, write it all out in an erotic blimp to drive a man mad addict. I'm hooked. I am tempted to fill this space with words and images far more graphic than its ever seen..I won't. But if I would it would look damn hot :)

Mirror mirror on the wall..I am going through withdrawl

Revelation elation,
High on anticipation
Tension, attention,
too sick to mention.
I see stormy spring,
a fling, a tall drink
And too much rain
too soon, Mansoon.

ITS SPRING !!!!!!!!

March is here..fuck the calendar, I FEEL IT ! I can't stay focused, or dressed, or asleep..I'M ALIVE. I got russian booz blues in the car that's making it worse..hope someone darts my crazy ass with a tranquilizer before I do something stupid....

Premonitions, angels, falcons, unquiet mind

SPB, dead of winter. Beware the low flying angels.. I only catch glimpses of that world, my world..Realities of all sorts hold me firmly on the ground, no escape, not any more. Lower expectations with a chance of freezing rain. I was looking at a face of a man I used to love, two snapshots, 8 years apart, and it hurt me that he has aged so. I wanted to touch his hair, almost all grey now, to kiss his eyes, like before..it wasn't love, it was pain from loosing the image of him imprinted in my head, it was somehow my loss and I quietly mourned it over a drink. Who knew loosing can be so exciting ?..And I've only lost a few preconceived notions. I want to be above my own anguish, above pettiness ravaging my soul, tiny little grudges with long and lingering shadows. I should let it go. There's always peace in random angel sightings, in the sudden humbling awareness of being in an otherwise completely oblivious world.

off

Lazy morning, crazy morning hair, cup of tea, chipped -- bad luck, I'm barely up and dwelling on man's past - a drop of tar in my perfect earl grey. Take it back, I don't want to know. Or else I'll feel like sharing and give you a monkey for your back..alas, I am too kind to men and their prescious egos. Fuck the past. I got errands to run, a good book to read..I'll go for a ride and space out and nothing will get to me today. Today, I got Me, baby.

Pause.

I QUIT !!!
Bye Bye Bombay Hilton.
Hello, morning at home with Boo.
Scandalous. I never ever quit before -- I got promoted, advanced, relocated, stuck and bored at worst..TODAY is the first day after I QUIT the shittiest job of my life, and trust you me I had some nightmare jobs-- no notice other than an e-mail, no way back, no how. I will miss the boyishly charming admin and his action hero side kick, she was fun, if a bit primal, unrefined. Black Mamba :)

random, contemplative

baby chicks, Nika

happy snack

Joy

hurt. i'm programmed to reason, to seek just explanations, to play fare. knowing well - fair is the opposite of free and so i'm doomed to fail. now all is fair, and all makes sense and it hurts. just like it did few years back, when i was setting myself up for this very pain. only i welcomed it then, lived it and loved it, unlike now, when all i feel is this black void of disillusion. now the outcome of all this hurt is sleeping peacefully next door. weird chemistry of escapes and anticipations, hopes, dreams, domestic disasters, beautiful minds and long talks, words, letters, messages, signs..love, by all means. it died. i knew it, knew exactly when it happenned, knew why, but i went on, afraid to say it outloud. i should've screamed, kicked, ran for my life.i didn't, and he didn't. and when it was no more, a child was born. born into this deafening emptyness between two strangers, into life filled with resentment and guilt. so much for love.. hurts.

connections

If this was a view out my window, I'd spend my mornings on chanting and quiet contemplation..Now its just a grey-white merky blizzard through the blinds and a quicky getting me out of bed.


And here's the real coffee to go with the view, just like my dad made it, turkish, in a tiny cup, thick and foamy, and oh so strong..

And a friend to talk about Dostoyevsky and puke and everything in between..

random flashback, beautiful, miss it

the perfect moment
I thought many times in the past
that the moment was the one
I would choose
if I had to choose only one
but I just had the perfect moment
where I felt like a piece
of a jigsaw puzzle
all twisted with legs going
one way
and arms and head another
yet everything fit
and the other pieces
locked into me
I was part of a perfect moment
where everything felt right
and good
for that moment
warm and snugly
but with my mind at peace
my heart filled with love
and my soul full of joy
for that moment I was more than one
I was more
perfect
for a moment
posted by carson at 10:10 PM on Dec 5, 2007

abandoned treasure

I wonder what happened to this bloggger..when I first stumbled on this blog I had goosebumps reading..its been dead for over 2 years. I'll keep it here, I feel very protective of it somehow. And the funny thing is I'm afraid I killed it -- I left a comment, a NICE one !..and there was nothing since. Damn..

http://nearlyunbearable.blogspot.com/

jump

R.I.P.

post-trip-tum

I did have a vacation after all, cursed cruise or not -- I went to Mexico. My dad sais Mexico is one of the "energy centers" of the world and after having gone 5 times, I believe it. The sun, the sea, the ruins -- the works. I LOVE Mexico. And this time I expanded my "vacation to-do list" with zip-lining, rappeling, and snorkeling in caves. There's nothing quite like jumping off a cliff and zipping through the jungle to get ready for a new and demanding job. I think I'm ready :) One thing I was NOT ready for is bumping into one of my ex-husbands, and not the one I stayed friends with, oh no..But we pretended not to see each other for 5 days and no one got hurt. Just burnt. I'm talking extra-crispy-hurts-to-blink kinda burnt..NEVER happened to me before, but here I am, all dark and disturbed, and with a bad cold too..but the rest of me healed rather nicely :))) Oh, well, there's always something. Among things I'll remember from this trip (that are not X-rated) and will write about in detail later -- the caves, the whole underground river world hidden beneath the touristy beaches, the cemetery of Xcharet -- I haven't seen anything like it, and Madlen :)

This is it

Not that I've been a huge fan past my teens..BUT, as I happened to go to a matinee WHILE THE POWERLESS CRUISE SHIP I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ON WAS SLOWLY SINKING NEAR PUERTO RICO..I was stunned by the makings of all this, by the scale and perfection of what would have been, undeniably, the best show in the history of pop. He was AMAZING. So awkward and grotesque everywhere else and so natural on stage, super-natural, rather. When he danced -- he was beautiful, powerfull, in complete control of that body, so fragile, vulnerable, and so impossibly expressive..his hands alone were unbelievable. There's no fucking way one can create an image of such magnitude and at the end of the day just go home and be something else, something LESS. That's what ultimately killed him, I think. There's not enough Propofol to contain, calm THAT sort of energy. Perfection equals death in a sense. And he was a perfect act. I just can't imaging him "aging gracefully", can't imagine him aging at all. Weird, misplaced, grotesque, UNREAL -- yes, but not old. This cartoonish world he created sustained him till there was no room to grow. He died ridiculed by many but surpassed by none..

city, rain, reflections

The simple things..

"Родительские поучения могут и не спасти от гибели вашу пуританскую совесть; но если вы выпрямитесь на стуле, не касаясь спинки, и сорок раз повторите слова «призмы, пилигримы», сатана отыдет от вас.."

Its Tuesday night and a rainy one, an endless late November downpour I so welcome, finally free to just be... My mind wonders as my feet get wet. I juggle Nika, Nika's rag doll, an umbrella and a stuffed purse as I get us in the door. Finally. I'm in a dimly lit church, all the way in the back. The choir practice picks up.. Five little angels by the altar, mine -- the littlest. Their voices echo high above me in this vast space and instantly I'm at peace, calmed by the subtle scent of cedar and wax and honey.. The church is airy and by most standards austear. Lone crucifix in a burst of light against a plane brick wall -- sharp contrast of black and flesh, reminiscent of a painting I once saw. The rest is all wood and stone and clay, monochromatic and heavy-textured -- yet somehow so light, ethereal, almost translucent..like a vision of a tall ship, with its creaky floors and flickering lights, as it floats in a storm to a tune of Tchaikovsky. I smile and wave to Nika and pull out an old lost-and-found fave -- O'Henry's short stories. And for the rest of the hour I melt..Blessed is a perfect moment when you happen to be in a right place at the right time with the right book. Amen.

Carribean Cruise !!!

prev post -- ok, I'm over it :)
VACATION COMING !!!
Plan A:
get up at dawn to see the sun rising over the Carribean, jogg, have lite breakfast, swim laps, snorkle, hike upheel on Cayman Islands, read, get plenty of sleep..
Plan B:
get drunk, get tied to bed, pass out, sleep till noon, have sex again, pig out at lunch, lay face down on the beach for an hour, dip a toe in the water, go back for a Mai Tai..get braids, get dark, get drunk, sex and sleep till noon..
Plan B it is :)

love me to death

Perspective. Put things in perspective, letting go of what can't be changed. Others can't be changed. Enabled, disabled, temporarily insane, but people don't change because of something you do or don't, so..so WHY DOES PARANOID PETTY EGO-MANIACAL SHIT LIKE THAT KEEPS GETTING TO ME ???? Served with love and guilt, this slow poison of negativity and cynisism, this suffocating pressing demand..Run,Lola,run. Nothing's ever good enough. In the last two weeks I have pushed myself to the max and made a career jump unreal for this economy..Excited and exhausted I booked a mini vacation to get a breather before this new job gets the best of me..ALL ruined and for such unexplicable nonsense..literally, some delusional gripes aimed at whatever's left of my spirit. No more jitters, thrills, hopes -- I'm drained, resentful, and terribly hurt. And it just repeats itself, my whole life's this crisis hotline, no adult, kind, mature shoulders for me to cry on, instead, this sick and twisted role reversal, illusions of content, buying time in between all sorts of catastrophies, and no blunder's too small to wage a war if God forbid I happen to be at peace at the moment. I'm not allowed blunders, or dignity, or peace. I obviously exist for the mere purpose of perpetuating this enourmous Victim complex, striken by love, and fear, and grief and utter hopelessness of the whole situation..Fuck, I need a drink.

Blue Lagoon..Cyprus

DREAM

da budet svet

pic by silver sound

Boo is 4 today !!!

no time

3 excruciatingly long meetings (one led by me)and a fire, how's that for a work day ?..no planned work done, nerves frayed, frustrated. BTW its very hard to rescue someone who clearly doesn't want to be moved. The guy I got out cursed me all the way through, kicked me in the groin and peed on the w/c..There we were, running through the smoke-filled hallway dropping f-bombs, both of us..But all were save, there was more smoke than fire..I got NO time. I wanna be bored for a change...