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...

pastoral'

Liss

Место встречи изменить нельзя

Удивительно как жизнь всегда возвращает меня к одним и тем же точкам отсчета. Ничего эпохального, наоборот, незначительные казалось бы дежавю, где-то вне времени, в эпизодах. Бури, шторма, концы концов..и полная статичность декораций. Такой вот стоп-кадр в спа, куда меня заносит пару раз с разницей в пару лет. Тот же душ, капли на каменном потолке, тусклый свет, я так же как и в первый и в пятый раз, прислонившись к прохладной мокрой стене, вожу пальцем по запотевшему стеклу. Все то же. Я другая. Как-то давно расплакалась там навзрыд от усталости, в другой раз вдруг позвонил Он и у меня бешено колотилось сердце..отчаяние, радость, покой, один момент с разницей в годы. Спа, душ. Дубль три.. Мне всегда казалось что стены тех мест куда я возвращаюсь по прошествии времени хранят меня, и возвращают мне же как случайно найденный старый снимок. Все эти потерянные (найденные ?..) образы вечно застают меня врасплох и время останавливается, ненадолго..Одна и та же студия в которой я поселялась дважды с разницей в 5 лет, чудом оказавшаяся свободной как и я сама..Песенка из детства спетая моим ребенком. Чудом же уцелевший дом во дворе где меня уже 30 лет нет, и где я есть везде, чудом живая любовь, да так что до сих пор болит. Концертный зал, попадая в который я непременно сталкиваюсь с кем-то из прошлых или будущих жизней..Именно жизней, они переходят одна в другую и обратно, фрагментарно, без титров, с множеством маленьких смертей в тех местах где рвется пленка. Случайный момент, повторившись еще и еще, вдруг покажет все как есть..и лишит меня сна, пока привычный мой сумбурный непокой не погонит меня дальше, от себя такой к себе другой, и только стены моих домов давно знают что я тут совершенно непричем.

stuck

Indulge a few fantasies and there goes the balance..An inch here, an inch there and boom, life will never be the same again. Delusions mingle with despair and you're now clinging to memories and vague hopes of either miraculous recovery or a quick and painless oblivion. And with so much at stake this time, I really am afraid. There's very little me in this life of mine right now. But this isn't even the bad part..It's not self-indulgence I crave, its peace and comfort of being myself in my space on my time, with my child or alone, and just an end to this crippling anxiety that's destroying me. There's no middle ground. All I wanted was to feel loved, and loved I am..so why does it feel like a cancer growth ?..And where is that comfort that goes with lower expectations ?..How can you be so overwhelmingly, flat out deviantly hooked on sex with a man yet despise his habits, his lifestyle, his attitude..Where is this habitual submissiveness stemming from ?..Why do I need a beast dominating me to feel like a girl ?..And I crave his affection and nothing less of love will do, monster or not, I will make him feel like a king cause that's what I do. This can't be good for me..or safe..or sane..

a bit of sun in a stone well

ruminating, obsessions

I'm yet to fully enjoy my new place but I do love the windows, more so at night..I love to just sit there in the dark for a few minutes with the curtains blowing, shadows dancing on the ceiling, dusty shimmer of trinkets and books lit by moonlight. I could sit here all night. Something in these walls and these barely there summer nights..that long lost anticipation of a new day. I feel so cornered by life that any such moment of stillness and quiet contemplation is bliss. My perception is off..I need to space out to really see, but the daily grind just won't take me there.