So this is my version of triathalon...my work, my artistic pursuits and then there are romantic pursuits. I'm starting to feel like Alfie...as if 24 hours aren't enough for the day of a woman like me...as if 7 days a week just doesn't quite cut it for a woman like me. If I were given 1 more day a week and 1 more hour a day would I feel better? Probably not - I'd probably just end up doing too much like I am now.
...taken from Alfie's Blog...
"saudade" is a portueguese word that is difficult to explain. so let me wikipedia it for you...
"The famous saudade of the Portuguese is a vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist, for something other than the present, a turning towards the past or towards the future; not an active discontent or poignant sadness but an indolent dreaming wistfulness."
"The famous saudade of the Portuguese is a vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist, for something other than the present, a turning towards the past or towards the future; not an active discontent or poignant sadness but an indolent dreaming wistfulness."
...on faraway places...
I can totally feel them calling. I'm looking at my travelling trunk and leather carry on bag with an angry determination. I need to touch other concrete. I need to hear the lull of foreign tongues. I need to walk out of darkness into brightly lit cities that bristle with movement. I need to hear the click of my kitten heels on pavement while I nibble on a pastry. I need to take a 16 hour flight to somewhere and just curl up in a ball in business class and drink way too much until i knock out. I need to go where no one knows me --- at least for a little while.
...on homesick...
I wanna be in San Francisco to see the lights.I wanna see scarved and jacketed throngs walking in that city pace. I miss my family. I miss real dim sum. And now Wendy went home to the Yay for a little bit. So all of my girls are home and I'm here. I miss my family too and wouldn't mind a trip to Haystack. But I'm so pressed for time. J****** asked me this morning,"you okay?" I said,"Yah, I'm good." He said,"what's up..." I told him,"WL is going home today - so that's all 3 of my girls who are home and I'm not...except Monica she's in Tokyo somewhere...." He smoothed my hair down and said,"Just call me if you need a friend...I'm here if you need someone..." I didn't say a word.
...on cakes...
I have a crazy rhythm...like god of cookery kung fu rhythm - sometimes I kind of scare myself but I like it...
...on marathon dates...
I don't even know where to start. You want the dirty details but I'll never tell... I was with him last Thursday and last Saturday...then he came over on Sunday and stayed...and he lingered through toussled sheets Monday night. Last night we watched a movie at his crib and when I fell asleep he shut everything down --- I woke up with a startle around 2am and said,"I should go home..." He shook his head and murmured,"Nnnh Nnnh..." I asked,"are you saying don't go..." He said,"Don't go...stay..." So I did.
Does quantity of time spent equivocate quality? In this case yes. How can his smile hold so constant? How can ONE person hold such determination in all aspects of everything? How can his passions be void of anger? My passions are tinged with retaliation and revenge. I said something fucked up before I left and all he did was pull me close and say,"...Do me a favor..." I said,"Hmmn?" He continued,"On this journey that we are taking, think WITH me - not FOR me." I just nodded and said okay. I let myself out into the dark morning light and 37 degree weather.
Such goodness kind of gives me sadness...
It was a long drive home alone with my thoughts.
...on the other nonstop...
They are still coming at me...from all angles...it's not really that funny anymore. But you know...it is what it is. Once I set myself free I put myself in the craziest jungle of all. The dating jungle. I suppose other women would be happy with all this attention, scrambling, winking, puffing up, calling, last minute texts of desperation and panic, cool talk and hot looks, homie versus homie to get "the sauce," plus posturing and all that to get my attention. But do you know what it's like to go through it? I hope you never do. It's like finding a needle in a haystack with butter covered hands...with no soap and water in sight for miles and miles.
I'll just continue to dream with my eyes open.
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