Looking back.

Nothing terrifies me more than the feeling of being trapped by my own decisions; wondering whether I made the right choice and if it would be possible to return to the start without disturbing the carefully laid out boundaries and ruined forts that i keep around me.

I say ruined forts because recently a battle ensued between self preservation and losing control to love. It was fierce one filled with painful words, control, bitterness, manipulation and threats. It was my independence fighting to rule the one element that has never succumbed to a master. Love.

It took me many months but slowly I have let him in. Slow and arduous was the process but what I found was a gentle man wrapped in thorns. We were both wrapped in thorns i guess. Once the thorns were remove we were left with cuts and bruises that have now begun to heal.

It is at this point that my mind began to look back. Back to the last one that captured my heart. To the boy that was its chief and then its punisher. He had left shards behind never to return and amend it.. I looked back because the book had never been completed. I refused to pick it up for fear of returning to that miserable place. For a year I had waited like a widow who hoped to catch a glimpse of her lost love as he passed to the other side, hoping for one last encounter so she may properly say goodbye. I realise now that I have been holding on to a shadow, one which would soon consume the good thing I now have if I do not release it.

He was my first you see. So it was difficult to break that bond. I would invent scenarios and scripts where we would meet by chance and make small talk. I imagined his eyes and the way they would captivate me and draw me into a world of mirage and adventure. The exciting but flirting affair of boy meets girl.

I now need to stop this! one? it's a dangerous path to walk. It's an illusion, a fear that the new love I have discovered will not last. There are no symptoms to support these fears, only the accounts of failed relationships. I guess, I wanted to go back to him and finish the last chapter. So I could leave his heart broken too. So I could make him hunger for me and then suffer for his desertion. Does that make me malicious?

I am holding on to who I was, what it meant to be with him but when I analyze each chord of that tragic parade, I understand that I had been unhappy. The relationship was born out of loneliness and the fear of it. I no longer need to return and lack the desire to do so. The truth is I look back in fear. Now I look forward and I realise I have nothing to fear.

The lady is actually a Dude? or Is she?

I recently discovered to my shock and disbelief that our dear Lady of pop (in all her eccentricity) is in actually fact a Gentleman of pop. It is rumoured that Lady Gaga not only has female genitals but also a peener. I really don't understand why I made a big deal out of it. She's an hermaphrodite pure and simple. It made me reflective on how we are so afraid of different.

I couldn't care less what gender Lady Gaga is. She is an entertainer, a trend setter with a growing fan base and she's gutsy in her self portrayal. She has brought out the weird in everyone and they love her for it. So why be shocked? Why are so many people repulsed. I was more surprised than repulsed because I certainly didn't see that coming.

I realise that even now, after all the melange and vibrance of the human race, in colour, religion, culture and sexual orientation, we are still afraid of different. It conflicts with what our brain is accustomed to and it makes us question everything. Human being love stability. They want to know what something is and where it fits in. In a way this is easily explained by how the brain processes information. You have mere seconds to analyze the world around you and sort out what is a threat and what is not. In this short space of time, we put information into boxes; more adequately called stereotypes. This is a man, this is a woman. This is a police officer and his job is to protect; Thus safe. 

It is not necessarily the wisest form of information processing but if we had to process every iota of evidence we encounter daily it would cause information overload. 

As a society, we have slowly learnt to ensure those stereotypes are ephemeral and eventually subject to scrutiny, once we have time to process further information on the situation. Perhaps this has aided in changed attitudes on race, religion and sexual orientation; which has come a long way from the dark ages where it was banished to the realms of sin and condemnation. Now, we are more open to different and we are more welcoming of the strange.

Unfortunately the fear still remains, though we try to fight it. Hence why we show shock and exclaim in unbelief. I am as guilty of this as anyone. We have a long way to go as a society before we can turn away from those critical and hurtful comments. At the end of the day we are God's children, created in his own image.

So to lady Gaga, who is unashamed and unconcerned by public opinion, I am in awe. You are teaching us a lesson in acceptance. Most of you have shown us that every one of God's creatures is beautiful. Who are we to judge.

Brutus.

In the last six months, I have learnt a lot about myself. It is almost as if i've been in isolation for so long, cut off from human civilization; locked in my own consciousness and oblivious to how volatile relationships can be.

I have found myself enraged by certain behaviors and shocked by how little people care about how they affect the world around them. I don't write this to judge. God knows i am not perfect, I have my vices, I lose control of my awareness and I hurt the ones i care about. 

Those i speak of, are the ones who wish to interject into every aspect of your life and tell YOU what they think. They wish to inform you of their opinion, whether you agree or not. They believe they are justified. After all we are merely an intellectual exchange. However, it gets irritating when they attempt to refute everyone else's opinion and believes just because they've been on the planet longer or jumped continent they have a better perspective of YOUR world than you do.

I'll put up with it for now...

Then there are the moments when they whisper. The moments when they pretend a simply trip to the kitchen for a cup of tea is perfectly innocent rather than a stage set for witches round a caldron. They spit cruel words and spun spells of spite and slyness. Then walk back with painted smiles. 

I would have liked to think that those behaviors belonged in school with the bitchiness and sharp tongues but clearly being a 40 year old woman with two kids and a partner does nothing for your maturity. touché! my dear!

I still seem to be putting up with it....

There are then days, when you find you no longer know who that person is. The transformation is instantaneous and without warning. My first instinct is to walk away. I would like to run cause i can't face it. I can't face the words made of knives and sly comments. To turn around and feel what Caesar felt when he said "et tu, Brutus?". It is such a crushing feeling.

I have not understood the last six month and it will continue to plague me. I will continue to question my role in those tragedies. What I had said, what I had done. I will ever question my motives and the contents of my heart and my mind. I do not wish to wash my hands of responsibility but I will not be painted as the instigator either.

At the end of the day, when I look up to the heavens, I make sure that I played my part and made my judgements in good faith and with a good heart.

Sorry seems to be the hardest word...

There are moments when it sits on my lip, waiting for its number to be called so it can perform its duty; that of healing. Once the battle is done with myself, so much time has elapsed that to speak that word would lead to my own embarrassment. I hide behind my coarse locks and the word falls out, more by accident than by intention. So simply it is, yet it holds so much power to cure ills, to bring brothers and sisters together and rebuild burnt bridges.

I tend to be the girl that holds her head up high, turns and walks away because I feel justified in my opinion; in my conviction! I wasn't wrong. I said what I believed. However, believing you are right does not make one right. It does not mean that one should not say that word. I walk away with so much pride that my shoulders sag from the pressure and my feet become heavy with guilt. By this time the event has revolved around my head countless times like a broken record; dissected and put back together. It has been reinterpreted, shelved, taken down, re-reinterpreted to an extent that I cannot even remember how the true event played out. The result remains the same. I was a perpetrator.

I say to myself: " my knees are bruised from apology!!!"; and so they have been. From a young age, I remember saying it so many times that it became a part of me. Even when he hurt me, I said sorry. Even when I was right, I said sorry. Even when I was not the protagonist, I said sorry. SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY. My knees are bruised for senseless apology! The well in my eyes have dried up!
You have to understand why I am this way. It isn't simply because I don't care or I'm a mean bitch. It is more to do with my perception of where I will stand once those words are uttered. It is the fear that once I say it then that person gains control over me. It is almost as if I have had to cede the throne of my own self respect and dignity, relinquishing the throne to one who is not worthy of it. I feel like the beggar in rags pleading for his life before the king.

I need to learn. No, I need to believe that when wrong it is okay to say sorry. It takes nothing away from you but give you the gift of humility, to admit to yourself that to err is human. It is the hardest lesson to learn. It is the hardest word I've ever and will ever speak.

Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!

A friend said to me once, we are all never truly innocent in a war. It's true. When the gloves are off, sides are taken. Things are said whether meant in all sincerity or pondered on with regret later. When I fight, I do it intensely, because my feelings burn, fusing and exploding like nova. I am a passionate person. This is why I hate conflict, I hate the battle that is waged between good people, more importantly between friends.

There always comes a time when my friends and I will disagree. I am always adamant about my convictions, believing that I did the best I could and my intention were good. However intentions have been misread in history. So much so that these misinterpretations, misconceptions or whatever misses would like to stick her nose in, turns the simplest and honest intention into acts of war! I have been in those trenches, wandering, what I am fighting for and questioning the convictions I stand by and whether it is worth the heartache that ensues.

There is the no-man's land that lies between us. Always. Whether it be friends, family, common goals and interest. It will be this that will help us put our weapons down and walk unarmed towards the white flag, leaving those convictions behind because they have no place where hearts and sisters meet. Sometimes I apologise, other times they do. Then there are the moment when neither of us offer any such words but laugh at the foolishness that got us to this remorseful moment. Then everything is back to normal. It is the way it has been, it is the way it is and I have always believed that this rights of passage will continue. Here lies the test of love.

That's why when she did it, I was stunned. We throw punches, we come out bruised but we laugh. We do not end thing, especially not after the first brawl, which is more like an initiation into the sisterhood. It was quite strange because that day. The day it all went wrong. I had been thinking of her, planning a surprise trip once I saved up. She'd be Thelma, I'd be Louise and I'd let her know that despite all her bad moments, we were making good ones right there. It never occurred to me that this would be just a pipe dream. As I see it now it's like a shredded photograph scattered around. Each piece representing a moment and it was like that day the final piece came together and instead of this premonition of good things to come, what I was given was a nightmare.

But I see her now, so very Scarlet O'hara in her demeanour. She chose her path. She chose to walk away from three years of trust, loyalty, understanding and connection. She chose to play the victim card, the grieving widow that she performed beyond expectation. I refused to role of the devil's advocate. It could have been such a laugh in hindsight I think.

As the curtains fall, I shed no tear and neither will I, because the door was closed not by me but by her. I rest assured that I was a good friend perhaps not an innocent protagonist. However If it is means nothing to her then... 'Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!'

it is hard to say those three words. I'll admit, i'm almost never there. Moral superiority you say? not quite. I am just afraid that you won't say it too.

Sudha Chandran

Hidden beneath a hat of anonymity is the captain of this great five that play in Sudha Chandran. An electro reggae group that i was introduced to while adventuring in the Spanish capital, Madrid. It seems this city holds a good many talents, from its performers to its designers. However those whose names have not been spoken off, those undiscovered is where we will find the sound of Sudha Chandran.

The voice referred to as Johnny man is concealed under his notorious green hat, while the mic takes care of the rest. There is an air of mystery that surrounds him as his body bounces to the rhythm. One would not think that such a voice would belong to such a face; but there he stood that night at la buena dicha, enchanting the crowds who with any luck might catch a glimpse of man behind the voice.

What i didn't expect from this all Spanish cast was to hear a cocktail mix of English and Spanish, well written and delivered to express their message. "Teach! Don't Preach" (from their most popular track "Todo esta perdido - All is Lost") is echoed by the true followers of Sudha. I can see why this band has grown in popularity, touring around Madrid. For me it's not just reggae i hear but also that blend of jazz and funk that is intertwined between the chorus and the verse. It's the dash of the trombone like chocolate syrup on your sundae ice cream. They do not abuse the blues when they blend it into their reggae tempo but show tribute that would earn them a chuckle from the legends themselves.

In a time when the Spanish music scene has created a homogeneity and not much variety. This electro reggae funk band stands out and gets noticed; well once you know they are there. They have clearly experimented with blues riffs, grunge recordings and synthesizers to get them where they are now. They don't just imitate, they create. This eclectic sound has clearly gripped their audiences and got them "jumping to the rhythm".

Lady

I lost my groove and I need to get it back! That said - where to start? Uninspired and disappointed by the cache of unimpressive role models out there and I mean those who are living of course. We can only look backwards to a time where women were ‘getting their groove reinstated’ and showing that being a lady doesn’t mean being weak, pining for a man or camping out in the kitchen. It was more, it was substance and it was in your face. Ladies were worshiped and men were warned because they knew they were dealing with fire.


We have behind us our Monroe, Onassis, Hepburn, Loren and Diana and before us stand Lohan, Beckham, Campbell, Simpson, and Aniston – did I mention I was uninspired? It just seems that in place of style, substance, intelligence, captivating beauty and selflessness I find myself bombarded constantly by “women” (and I use this word lightly because we wouldn’t want to be placed in the same group as these females) who don’t realise that tantrums should stop at the age of five, a woman who resembles a jarrold’s mannequin doll than a human being and women doing desperate things to hold on to their men and I ask myself where did we go wrong?


I fear that there is no alternative because even when we fool ourselves into believing there are inspiring women, the Hollywood and ‘rock and roll’ lifestyle whisk them away for a quick remodelling and we are left with half a woman. Thus those who previously hailed the flag of ‘down-to-earthism’ quickly squeeze it back into their Louis Vuitton handbag. The Media continues to perpetuate these images of shiny size zeros blondes and brunettes with their self-loving, tantrum throwing, live fast die young Girl Scout motto that throws dignity out the window, exiles selflessness and bring in a new era of mannequin ignorant dolls that are trapped in a nightmare between Barbie and the stepford wives. Ah the god ol’ days.


We have films that promote the idea that we are nothing without our ‘man’ as the movie ‘He’s just not that into you’ tactlessly portrayed. I was sort of pleased to see that ‘the Women’ didn’t really go down that line of reasoning. Yer ok, she was a mess for the first half of the film and simply wanted to chop off his grand jewels as would any woman who just found out that her man had been dabbling in other merchandisers. But she resisted. She took the path that most women fail to grab in both hands, reinvented herself, got her own business and most importantly she got her groove back! You go girl. Now if only others would so kindly follow suit.


After all this bad news I decided to go on a hunt for some real ladies, women with more than just a cell between their ears, those making waves and breaking them. If she wasn’t the first to come to mind, well she should have been. There is a reason Michelle Obama’s secret service code name is ‘Renaissance’, may she bring the cultural revolution that we’ve all been waiting for. Here is a woman, who no doubt raises eyebrows and bring outs every woman little green friend. She is an incredible talented lawyer, first lady, mother and currently a style icon according to Vogue (because we know what they say is gold...). I mean seriously how many women can pull off bright pink flawlessly? I rest my case. She carries herself with dignity and oozes self confidence with every stride (that her shoes are just glad to be part of actions). When you see a woman who you just want to be, hands down, you know she’s doing something right. She’s ticked all my boxes, watch out Jackie O, looks like the crown is up for grabs.


My second nominee for awesomeness would have to be Ellen Page. She’s not your average type of lady I’d admit and she even calls herself a tom boy but this muse of mine thankfully has not yet been tarnished by the Lohans and Hiltons of the world as she had chosen to be tucked away safely in Halifax. Our pro-choice feminist enjoy a tad bit of basketball, snowboarding and I hear she’s more Aladdin than Sleeping beauty; High Five sister! She has never really followed the conventional rules of what a woman should be and you can see that from the roles she picks when acting. I have always been impressed by her choices which are usually never the same – from super mutant heroine to psychological thrillers to tortured teen in a basement (yes, I rose an eyebrow too). You can’t help but watch her. She has shown her dislike for such ‘stereotypical roles for teenage girls’ calling them ‘too sexist’. Someone pinch me I think I’m in love. Can she do no wrong? what’s that you say? Her middle name’s Philpotts? Well we’ll be having none of that!


Now I know they are other women out there such as our dear own Kate Winslet, Meryl Streep and least we forget new comer Duffy. So a toast to the Winslets, Obamas and Ellens, I raise my hat to you for giving us hope that there are still avant garde females defining what it means to be a true lady.

Fear not.

When I first met fear, it was under the hands of my father, the voice of my uncle, and the loss of a friend. She needed no introduction because right then, there was a mutual understanding of who was in control. I let her stay.

She - the shadow of self doubt and deprecation - walked with me, nagging, nagging, nagging like an old lady weathered by time and made bitter by life; my very own Debbie downer with all the trimmings. The sad stories of betrayal retold like a broken record and premises that seem to make sense but lacked logic when spoken aloud. Every day she spoke them and each time I gave in despite rationality. It’s like what they say, you spend enough time with a crazy person and their insane rambling turn to rational thoughts.

I discovered in time that all she did was try to suffocate me when no one was looking. She knew they were right, she knew they would show me. Once she was done, I was left to surface again, breathing deeply and thankful that I had survived that sickly feeling. I came out of her bunker of ‘protection’ glad that she had helped me passed the storm which I have never seen; not once. It weighed on me that I could not get rid of this ‘friend of mine’ whose visit was more frequent and certainly unwanted. It got to a point where I started to believe that I needed her, that her intentions were good. After all you’ve got to be cruel to be kind right? There were my days and she – my companion.

She packed her bags one day and made it clear she was unhappy with my decision. “You’ll fail” she said, “You never were any good at it. I’ve been the one holding your hands”. She walked away trimmings and all and I packed mine for Spain. She comes back now and again – we talk over coffee, she plays the same tune and I listen but logic is never defeated because I know her now. More and more I feel the fear and when I walk on, she throws a tantrum - things get broken – I keep walking. I guess that’s when courage moved in.

As courage unpacked she smiled saying "Fear not. We’re going to have fun you and I".

Top of The Pops

So, I decided to return to the scene of the crime, where Aretha Franklin's Respect was disrespected on the dance floor of a particular Spanish club. The floor this time was thankfully empty, instead the bodies were crushed against the counter taking advantage of the not so "happy hour".

Yes, that's right, if you had been there earlier you would have been able to indulge in two pint size plastic cups of calimucho (otherwise known as bad wine and coca cola); for a generous sum of five euros. Also available as misappropriately named "minis", were two pint size cups of beer for a similar price. This misnomer was by no means a bad thing, if getting yourself perpetually 'hammered' was your goal. However this particular night, that goal was made even more difficult when they ran out of those so called 'mini' cups that would have properly secured my happy hour for hours...

As the clock struck twelve and the fairytale of cheap drinks came to an end, i prayed that the dj would not take advantage of my sober state and severly depress me as he had so effortless done before. I stood there. Flashed back to my first time in Top of the Pops. I remember being disappointed by the choice of tracks and also the Dj. It was a bipolar mix of indie music; an attempt to be bohemian but failing miserably. Highs and Lows where they didn't belong like singers who should never try acting.

After all this you can imagine that i was not jumping at the chance to return but i did so anyway. Everyone deserves a second chance right? After all it was a friend's birthday, couldn't say no now could i?
Empty it might have been but it did not remain so for long. The people streamed in, the music got good and i found my lips moving along to the kaiser chief, old school classic and dear i say material girl by our dear madonna. Ok, so he wasn't perfect, he tripped up a little bit when he decided playing a slow trotting beetle songs (which would put any warm blooded creature to sleep) would bring him stardom. He quickly redeemed himself with Jet's "Are you gonna be my girl". Keeping playing like that Dj and i just might ;)

You Got me...

My blessing, that allowed me to see the best there was in you and to know that i would give all that I could to your cause, has now become my curse. A quality so sought out in the heart of man, that of generosity, of kindness, unconditional love, understanding, empathy and the likes is to be disliked by the one who gives it so willingly. You will find as I have that to hold these traits when once it used to be a blessing is nothing but a burden. In these arms, people find a way to be selfish and steal affection where they can and leave those arms empty of appreciation. These arms still hang, waiting for you to take me in and hold me. They wait to be taken and to hear the words that i am your friend and you got me...

Instead i find that altruism is not a gift to the individual who possesses it but to those who choose to take what in most cases is offered out of love; but each time to return less and less. My generation it seems, believe the whole world should revolve around them, that includes looking out for number one. The mentality remains that if you were dumb enough to give that part of yourself, and then, to suffer the rejection that you should not complain.

What i ask is this my friend, my girl...What am i to you? A rock or your pillow?
If i were to fall to my knees, would you stand and look down at me kneeling here in your shadow or would your knees bleed like mine because you are beside me? I ask you, if you've got me or if you'd let me fall?

Things fall Apart

Sitting here and watching the neon shooting stars fall from the side of a shopping centre. I remember that christmas is creeping ever closer and it is time like these that we make those long trips homewards bound. Towards our roots, towards our fathers and our mothers. To hug our brothers and sisters. To sit on barely used dining tables, specially polished and adorned for this so called reason to be with family. To laugh and drink and make merry and forget the other 364 days of the year that we will never talk and the other 364 days of the year where the phatom of silent walks beside us with it's haunting touch to remind us of where we stand; to remind us that things are still the same.

Those neon stars and music notes that reminds us of christmas movies and happy endings could barely repair those things that have fallen apart. I think of fights, i think of a broken hearted woman who struggles to hold what is left together of love. They tell you it is to last forever. They say it is worth the pain. Our dreams might take us away for a short time and perhaps when we wake, we are deceived so briefly that the nightmare was left in that other world but things still fall apart. We are all here around this table holding on the lines between us, that has frayed so much that in time it will fade and it will let us all go...far far away to a place of no return.

What ever happened to the happy endings that films are made of?

Music is Poetry

I'm not your substitute ever

Gone and closed the curtain
ready or not, here i come
this is the last time that i will say these words
come on honey, take a trip with me
slow down, lie down, remember it's just you and me

He spends his nights in california
tonight we drink to youth and holding fast the truth.
My tea's gone cold, i'm wondering why I got out of bed at all,
wrote a letter to my father
do you know where your heart is?

Something always brings me back to you
Take me now baby here as i am
you don't have to be beautiful to turn me on
it's time when i want something more, someone more like me.
hand in hand we descend to the graveyard

Hurray for the child that makes it through
see the sun kiss parts of the moon.
What am i to you, tell me darling true?
so sweet so beautiful, every daylight queen on her throne...
i don't know why i was so afraid all the time

The Other Side

I saw the side, you know,
the one you hid so carefully under the dead leaves of autumn.
The leaves that changed as the air turned cold and
your expression shifted.
Then. So suddenly they were blown away exposing
the dusty ugly truth that you were not one but two...

The light i was attracted to was actually a dull glow
a shadow of kindness departed from it's real form
wandering lost, offering itself only, not for what it would give
but... what it could receive in return.

As weather changes, so too do you and mislead
today your friend, tomorrow a bad seed
planted to grow a maze between us in which
I am constant but yet constantly confused as to why I am where you are?
Why your face so pink and dear could make my heart sink in fear.

It is half you five, half of which i receive
Each time worth less as you lose your sparkle and begin to see who you really are.

Animals

Humans go through great lengths to prove that they are no longer a primitive and uncivilized species but instead cultured, disciplined and higher intellectual beings. However it seems to me that social norms, technology, attires, our relationships present a completely different pictures from that which we are determined to paint.

We show ourselves as altruistic but deep down isn't this just another way of making ourselves feel better. We help people cause it makes us feel good that they feel good and at the end the goal is our own contentment. We have social norms that build boundaries as to what we should or shouldn't do in terms of etiquette and relating to another human being. Though this is yet another way the stronger keep the weaker weak.
Aren't these social norms merely a codification of what is instinctive for us. Darwin's so called 'the fittest survives', is no different now than it was when the neanderthal walked the earth....culturally and intellectually stunted. Poor beings...well you can take man out of the wild but you can't take the wild out of the man; i say. We are driven by basic desires. It's just we have found clever ways to get what we want! That is those who are 'fit' enough. Of course some of these instincts are 'suppressed'. They are seen as bad for the collective whereas others are praised but at the end of the day perhaps we are all just animals with fancy clothing.

Take for example the norms that governs how we interact with each other. In particular (and due to my recent exposure to young females habitants) the hunt for romance. When observing a social circle of men or women (for this purpose we will focus on the latter), it seems that if one member is attracted to, say, a particular and perhaps extremely good looking member of the opposite sex, this is seen as a declaration of ownership and a clear sign that this boy is Out. Of. Bounds.

Ok. So you are probably thinking well this is a good idea because two girls liking the same guy can only cause drama drama drama! Living with five other girls has more than reaffirmed that little bit of truth. So bonus points to the side that thinks we are not like animals. However isn't the 'forbidden fruit' rule a way for the most vocal and selfish to get what they want. Let's call it 'the dog pissing on the tree' or the cat staking out its territory. In one word...primitive!

In a way i can't help but laugh because it's in all aspect of our life. It's in the Oh my God, she's wearing the same dress as me. It's in the 'you can't date your friend's ex'. It's in the 'putting your friend down so that you might feel prettier or lovelier'. It's animal with a new branding. There are those that see the war paint and back off. These are 'the lucky few' that save themselves from potential friends drama but still classed as 'weak' for giving up what they truly desired. Shining less so as not to antagonize the tigress.

For those who do not take the humble bow - that is the occassions when a girlfriend will ditch the 'sisters before misters' pledge in favour of going for the same guy or object of pleasure or obsessions (sometimes that line is sooo blurry. sigh); allegiances is set yet fickle and battle lines are drawn in preparation for the 'cat fight'.

It might seem so crude to reduce it to those terms but when it comes down to it, we get animal on eachother when our interest are threatened. We behave irrationally. The fear prompts us to fight like creatures would do in the wild to settle 'differences'. It's just that now we have more sophisticated forms of warefare such as manipulation, demoralisation of the enemy, guerrilla warfare and darling once you are determined to destroy, the list is endless.

I can say from experience that living and fighting in this world has made me see things and ask these questions. I have seen allegiances fall like a house of cards in less time than it took to build them. I have seen the glittering edges of knives being polished for when backs are turned. I have seen looks not words that are knowing and speak things that the tongue dare not utter. Most of all i have lived in a world of flawed, irrational, scared, beings.

So really... how different are we?

Toxic

A friend once said to me that when times are hard, I am beautiful and unique flower who instead of receiving nutrients and clean fresh water, was being suffocated by dirt, sewage and a toxic environment. It was this unhealthy cocktail that was causing my lack of growth, my self pity and eventually my lack of self worth. At first it just seemed like a profound but very confusing analogy but as time when on, those harsh conditions and so called 'dirt' became more apparent. They had been hiding out in the cracks of my life; my contagious and unhealthy friends.

As a good friend now faces a situation similar to one which i have experienced and in some cases still experiencing now, those words have returned to bring deep reflection and finally... to make sense.

Is there such a thing as a toxic environment, where negativity is served up for breakfast and pure bitchiness served up for lunch? Perhaps there are places where cultures has breed bad manners and bad friends. People who are so consumed with their own well-being they will tread on others to make sure their needs are served above others. I would like to say no there aren't toxic people out there. They are just individuals who supposedly mean well but it backfires. However perhaps I was naive in that conclusion. There are those who want more from you than you can physically and emotional serve up and they want it on a silver plater with caviar. There are families that though parade a facade of normality, behind closed doors inhale dysfunctionality and exhale depression. They just don't talk about it. No one talks about. They let the thick fog hang; and just like second hand smoke it's everywhere and it kills.

Perhaps there are guys that are bent on being brainless and sharing that brainlessness, that ugliness; hurting whatever good people are in their path and yes.... girls too. Bitchiness is what we were born to do; some more than others.

It's incredible how people survive in these treacherous environment. They try everyday to walk past that negativity, to move past those childish methods of 'dealing'. They are the ones that give people second chances, time and time again, only to receive a slap in the face; To be hurt and to be made a fool off. At some point they start thinking that perhaps... just perhaps I am the magnet for my own demise. After all what are the chances that so many of these kind of people exist in one city, one place and that I encounter them on a daily basis. Unfortunately, these good people begin to digest the negativity and even serve some back because you know what? there just isn't anything else. Once that happens, it becomes a sad day for everyone. When you have known criticism all your life, that is all you will learn to see and all you give back. When you have learnt hurt and pain all life, that is what you will expect at every corner and sadly such psychology breeds results.

It took a long time to learn this and to be honest I am still learning. That is learning to say 'I owe you nothing and moreover you do not own me or the right to mould me'; because bad friends are like bad cholesterols, you just need a diet and good exercise plan. You need to cut out the bad stuff, bring in the new fresh salads. You need to find your own plan, your own place where you can be you and you can really learn to appreciate that good person that you are. Toxic is what toxic does, it corrupts and it erodes and it damages. You wouldn't stand in the way of second hand smoke or expose yourself to dangerous chemicals except of course if you looooooooooooveeee botox and cosmetic surgery, so why let yourself be emotionally throw, dragged and beaten to the ground.

Erykah badu once sang
'because i pick my friend like i pick my food...'

Once you count the tears and the heartache. It all becomes clear, bad friends are no friends so why keep them. I use to say it's because I need them cause I don't want to be alone BUT they need US, they need those kind and generous souls to manipulate and put down so they can feel high. At what point do we let go and just say screw you?

Tears dry on their own...

it was a private moment, silence except for the little sound that the mouth made trying its hardest the keep the scream inside. To all who passed by it was probably nothing except for the stream of tears that ran down my cheeks which i silently wiped away. these moments are when for a few minutes strength fail me and i guess also people. a time when mole hills upon mole hills eventually accumulate into that mountain that shall not be moved and through all my frustration i am forced to sob!

there will be no one there to wipe those tears and as history has it, they have always dried on their own and will continue too. People have their friends for moments like these. a hug, a kiss and a comforting word. Others have family and draw strength from that. however there are the few 'exiles from happiness' who can only feel these comforts in stories. For all they've ever known is to fight. to fight for survival, to fight for acceptance - not just from the world but from those close to them who claim status of beloved ones; to fight to be treated well, to not be vulnerable, to have a future, to have a say, to fight for happiness and all that comes with it. Though there comes a time when one can fight no more and that crucial moment the rain comes and tears break free from the cloud because at some point in our lives we need release.

we are after all humans - bones, flesh and blood. easily broken and sometimes repaired. we fall and we fall further but we get up or at least that's the theory. it seems that i've had reason to experience this discomfortunate moment when life and pain collides and it's wake misery. there is no one there to dry my tears because one must book an appointment for comfort. One must be quiet because your youth disenfranchises you from 'the take me seriously' vote. what more because those who share they love you draw up small prints and remind you of it from time to time.

what i am left with are tears, lots of it and with no one to wipe them away....

but i am resolved...

Seeing as i hadn't written anything in a while i figured i'd put down a poem i wrote a while ago. It seems quite relevant to the events of the past months where my resolve has come and gone. we've all been on that rock one way or another....

To seek validation in the reflection of a man inlove
because for me the water seems to deep to cross alone.
I could wade in it but my mind says I cannot swim
So I skip from stone to stone, hoping the next one will hold me safe.
Will it be secure, the foundation, the rock?
But. It is just a stone, it brings no promise and it says nothing.
From afar it seems steady and I am drawn to it.
The others warn me but I am resolved and I stay for the belief is that this rock will hold me firm.

Time passes, it says nothing.
I cry and it responds not.
I sense the others who have passed this place.
Within is something of me that I do not dare to speak of;
The one that arrives to make me a fiend.

Still I am resolved. I stay for the belief that this rock will hold me firm.
I become the other, a creature unknown to me but a part of me.
I continue to say ‘I cannot leave, I am held captive’
‘Captive?’ a voice questions ‘but where are your chains?’
Silence. I am unravelled.

I am resolved because I have no where to go.
I am resolved because I know not what lies ahead.
I know not where to go because the faces are all the same.

‘If I fall will I drown?’ I ask the voice.
She is already gone and with her departure leaves all certainty.
‘What if’ lingers and tortures me and I let it because pain is not my enemy.
We met long ago, it was hostile and it was cold but the wall fell down
It understood me and I understood it
Or at least it’s purpose.

I was resolved but that night a fish swam by, gracious and glittery. It’s colour so magnificent, each stroke with purpose and certainty.
I reached out to touch it and it watched me. Waiting.
Surely a creature could not come from a bad place.
I reach in to touch it and the warmth engulfs me.
I don’t know how or when but that moment came
Sharp and clear like the light that shatters the night.
I fell but I fell freely.
I did not drown
Now I swim and the rock not longer hold me

Love of my life...

I have made many mistakes in my life as everyone has at some point. Some mistakes made in decision on the path to walk and others in the realm of relationships.

As i listen to Erykah Badu's 'love of my life', the words really ring in my ears. They open my eyes to see that truely i have settled for second best. I have let fear, tiredness and jealous drive me into the arms of partners that have taken advantage of my desperation. In this revelation i am saddened.

why is it, that we are so troubled by loneliness that we search for a place where we can hide from it. why is it, that it scares us so much that we run to the first shelter that seems stable but easily vaporized by the coming storm [cute visual effect]. We do not wear the hat of the adventurer and go on a quest to really discover who we are so that we know WHAT we want. It is the fear that makes us jump into something so flimsy, temporal and weak that it only serves one purpose and one purpose alone; to keep at bay - loneliness. Perhaps it is an irrational fear. Even when surrounded by friends i am still craving that warmth, that declaration of love and attention. I am still craving to be looked at as if i just fell from heaven; that somewhere someone can look at me and not see ordinary but something more, the next stage.

As i listen to the song i realise that i have not seen myself as i should. As a knight, a princess, an adventurer, a warrior, a human, an entertainer and most important of all born and bred a woman! it is the revelation that should allow me to welcome loneliness as a form of self discovery rather than to push it away and attempt to discover myself in the arms of another.

'love of my life, you are my friend
love of my life, who i can depend...'

Theodore rossovelt once said that we have nothing to fear but fear itself and that is the truth! However i acknowledge that it is one thing to say it and quite another to believe it and live it. A fool has a no fear or believes he hasn't. It isn't exactly the fear which is dangerous but what we let the fear do to us. It is the fear that causes limitation, causes desperation and many more -tions that plagues us humans. Pandora certaintly dealt us a bad deal but it is knowing that we can feel the fear and move beyond that gives me hope.

Hope that i will be all that i can be
Hope that i will find the love of my life
Hope that i can and will become stronger in my resolve.
because i am tired of second best because of the fear that i cannot get the best. I am tired of broken hearts of men that are not worth the time of the day and finally i am simply tired but as an adventurer i must keep going because out there is the love of my life, out there is my friend and he is waiting....i hope hehehe

Loving somebody, don´t make them love you....

He arrrived late as is the spanish custom. Don´t panic. He was courteous, no apology was uttered; simply a polite smile or i guess it could be mistaken for nervousness.
Had he not brought the wine, I would have been inclined to believe that he wasn´t interested but there it was. full, white and ready to be corked! It was just a meal between two people who were testing the water, well at least on my side of the shore. The cameras were rolling on the first play. The lights were set, there was no rehearsal simply ACTION; in which case i proceeded to play my part.

We talked about many things, as you do. He seemed to be making an effort for which i was grateful as other encounters had not gone so smoothly. I tried to keep the conversation alive and interesting but with silence came doubt, perhaps not yet on my front as i am the queen of wishful thinking. Then again after three glasses of white wine could you really start digging into the hidden meaning of a person´s behaviour? touchee!
I cannot pinpoint the exact moment when the evening did a U-turn and crashed into the nearest object it could find like one of those bad Schwarzenegger films. It was a sudden change and it was strange; unexpected. The truth has a way of ruining a good night but i don´t regret for a moment that i initiated it. I don´t regret saying what i felt, who i was and what i believed. I don´t regret admitting things i am willing to do and others that would provoke a retort of "over my dead body!". I guess one can say that it is the process we all go through in identifying who you can live with and who can expect to see the back of your hair in their face.

Ofcourse doubt had not ceased to knock on my door. It´s rat-a-tat-tat was even more noticeable that before. However after the second bottle i could barely hear all that racket stored away in the back of my mind, threatening to ruin a potential companion. I went forth to declare my affection like a triumphant knight who had just returned from battle to claim his bride, only to have my steed halted at the all too familiar tall dark gates.

"Mission -to-Ground Control
That is a negative, I repeat... that is a negative sighting.... on mutual affection"
"Roger that! Return to base..."

at this point, may i add the sound effects of a plane crashing.....
Normally i´d be crushed and sulk for days, continuing the chase in the hope that he´d change his mind. I can happily say that i let this one go; not because i didn´t want him but because i was mature enough to understand that not every emotion will be returned with the same strength in which you sent it. It´s normal. A part of the human process. It places on fault at the foot of the parties involved. It´s just not suppose to happen. What surprised me though was the manner in which i displayed this maturity. I guess it must have surprised him too. Your stereotypical youth, gives you melodrama, tears, over-the-top poetry of heart break and organs being ripped out. They aren´t exactly known for their....maturity. Dare i mention level headedness.

"it´s okay. no problem" i said, in an attempt to reassure him that the evening had not turned sour. I can tell you this didn´t work. I guess mature men are really just boys trying on a new suit to see if it fits but never really assume the role. The few that do....well, they aren´t exactly single are they?
He blotted out something about it being uncomfortble and decided to cut the evening short. His goodbye was half felt and half cold. It could have been a casablanca movie if we were dressed for the part. God knows josephine baker playing in the background certaintly brought this scene to life; with a kiss on both cheeks (spanish style) he was out the door and left me with the bloody dishes. I am glad he didn´t recite "here´s looking at you, kid" or something like that because i might have been tempted to slap him. One thing i can tell you though is that at the end of this act, there was no applause. If anything, there was some relief within. I didn´t try to move on to the next heartbreak or ponder on my failure but simply pulled the curtains on that scene, went to bed. It was only a memory - remanents of the red wine. Thank God for chicken soup.

The one thing i have learnt over the years is that when you care about someone, they will not always return it. It isn´t guaranteed. Yes i know, people say well duh but how many people react in response to that mentality. We know it but we still yearn and hope that they´ll change their mind. When what we really should do is practice some acceptance and baggage reduction. I am reminded of a song by Erykah Badu that says

"bag lady, you gon´hurt your back
dragging all them bags like that
i guess nobody ever told you, all you must hold on to
is you is you, is you
one day all them bags, gon get in your way
so pack light..."

I do intend to pack light. As for the the 'boy'? bah..i didn´t really like his hair.

The Voice of the Women...

well my friend reminded me that i hadn't posted in a while. It is not because nothing has happened around here or that i have nothing to say but simply because sometimes you have so many things swimming around in your head; you have to wait to them to settle like dust before you know where they fall and how they fit together. In which case, there is something to write about.

right now...all i have are quotes from some of the best actresses the human race ever produced. I'd like to live by them. some you might know from films and others well....they are just so darn good.

Bette Davis

I went away from home to be on my own. I don't want to be like my mother, a 'yes' woman for some man. I want to be a person of my own." --as Helen Bauer in EX-LADY (1933).

I'd like ta kiss ya, but I just washed my hair."--as Madge in CABIN IN THE COTTON (1932)

"If you could read my mind, you'd shrivel where you stand." --as Joyce Arden in IT'S LOVE I'M AFTER (1937).

Doctor, will you do something for me? When you get inside my head, see if you can find any sense in it." --as Judith Traherne in DARK VICTORY (1939).

You sound like a book, and a very cheap one." --as Maggie in THE GREAT LIE (1941).

Katherine Hepburn

The one thing sharper than a serpent's tooth is a sister's ingratitude." --as Agnes in A DELICATE BALANCE (1973).

Will you take your cheery personality and get out of here." --as Ethel Thayer in ON GOLDEN POND (1981).

Audrey Hepburn

"If people loved each other more, they'd shoot each other less." --as Ariane Chavasse in LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON.

Look, I know it's asking you to stretch your imagination but, don't you think you could pretend just for a moment that I'm a woman?" --as Regina Lampert in CHARADE (1963).

Rita Hayworth

The first time in my life I ever really wanted a man to kiss me, and he had something else to do!" --as Maria Acuna in YOU WERE NEVER LOVELIER (1942).

Greta Garbo

Gif me a visky, ginger ale on the side. And don't be stingy, baby." --as Anna Christie in ANNA CHRISTIE (1930).


Ava Gardner

"Do me a favor. Don't complicate my life right now." --as Ellie Holbrook in SEVEN DAYS IN MAY (1964).

Marilyn Monroe

"I can be smart when it's important, but most men don't like it. Except Gus. He's always been interested in my brain." --as Lorelei Lee in GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES (1953).