taking a time-out from the stress of social networks to enjoy the calm autumn melancholy, with a cup of tea and The Cure.. watching the leaves turn yellow and red and fall like rain from the sky..
reading through Usage and Abusage again, and finding it very enjoyable..
found out that I have done something strange while on my sleeping pills again; now when my Helpers call, my phone plays the Doctor Who theme song.. waking up to this startled me somewhat.
now I only have two questions; how the hell did I do it, and why?
there might be some more updates here after I have gotten control of the situation at home..
after I have eaten, and gotten tea, and been able to clean up a bit to be able to move my furniture around..
building a comfortable lair for the winter..
the birds are falling silent once again; the summer birds are all falling silent and moving away.
far, far away.. making V quite restless again.
but right now, there has to be rest, tea and The Cure.
watching the falling leaves from the other side of glass.
enjoying the calm autumn melancholy, waiting for the winter quiet…
/pao – 26 sept 2010 – 14.24
I am in less pain today.. considering the hellish amount of pain I was in yesterday, this is an improvement..
to be really, really sure to at least be semi-functional today, I ate more paindrugs, but yes, it seems to help..
the kitchen is almost orderly now, thanks to one of the Helpers; one of those who I don’t have any clue as to whether she likes me or not, but at least she does her job..
the livingroom is a bit tidier, actually thanks to me.
soon it is time for tea and for sandwiches with egg and bacon.
suddenly finding myself listening to Clam Abuse again, and actually liking it.
I find myself being slightly worried over this turn of events.
the snakes are curled up and resting.
the rats are curled up and resting.
the pao is curled up and cold.
played the recorder a bit.
now off to more tea and less cold.
/pao – 26 sept 2010 – 16.14
(“shine moon on the shores of the seas / shine on the distance between me and the last thing I see / let it be me helping / let it be me, honestly / let it be me working on being a better me…” — songs:ohia – the big game is every night)
yesterday I realised again that I had fallen into that same trap that I sometimes really look down on others for falling into.. I heard myself say that my work wouldn’t matter if other people didn’t find it useful/admired it/liked it/thought it was fun/respected it.
to be honest, it really scared me, because since when did I like others to give my thoughts, my soul and my feelings value? when did I start to do the things I like doing just for the pleasure of others?
how can it not be enough that I enjoy it? how can it not be enough to do it for my own reasons?
so I decided I should do things I want to do, because it gives me joy and pleasure to do so.
is there anything wrong in that? am I just being selfish? I don’t have an answer to that, but it is entirely beside the point..
when did my enjoyment of having an audience become a need, a necessity for actually enjoying the act itself?
I don’t know, and I really do not care.
it happened, and I caught it happening, and I don’t want to catch it happening again.
I have eaten and had tea now.
this is very good.
/pao – 26 sept 2010 – 17.29
do you miss them already, marrana? you who are so brave and strong on your own; do you already miss them? their laughter, their talking, their silly remarks? not even a day has passed, and you are curled up alone, staring into the empty space before you.. does it hurt, marrana? do you want to give up, crawl back to their warm laps and gentle hands; let them pat you and forget that you ever tried to be alone again? have you already forgotten? are you just living a lie?
now you are alone, now you are free, and you lay curled up missing the ones you left. you needed to be alone, you said. you needed the quiet, you said. and you lay curled up, staring longingly into empty space. you are not doing the things you needed to do, the things you wanted to do; instead you are missing the others.
had you forgotten the pain of being alone, marrana? why else would you be so crippled?
did you just lie to yourself, telling yourself that you could still be strong? that you could still walk alone and be happy. we connect to others, marrana, and through them and through their eyes, their reactions to us, we know ourselves. we learn what we are by the reactions we get, by separating us from that which isn’t us and thus knowing our edges, walls, boundaries.
and now, without their eyes watching you, what are you? do you know, marrana? do you still know what you are? the pain, it is yours. the burning tears, the whispering shame, the painful doubt; they are all yours. do you remember them, marrana, or had you forgotten? had you chosen to forget?
and now, without their hands stroking you, where are your boundaries? where do you stop, marrana? far too soon; you feel so small when you cannot use them and their minds to bounce things off, to run things through. to reflect yourself in.
even your lair feels too big, too barren, like a vast space you could never cross. dangerous, unfamiliar, threatening. not like the small, comfortable, enclosed space it once was.
you used to be able to reflect yourself in mirrors, dark forest lakes, puddles formed on the rain-dark asphalt.
you used to be able to watch your reflections for hours; watch every inch of you, the way the light played upon your skin, your mane… your eyes.
you told your friend of stone and sea that you hadn’t really paid attention to reflections before you met him, but it wasn’t true. you had only forgotten, because you drifted away from it many years ago now. you forgot about mirrors and dark lakes and puddles in rain-dark asphalt when you got your pack to reflect yourself in.
you never used them to reflect anything but yourself, and your pack could do that for you; and so much better! your pack could tell you that you were beautiful, that you were wild, that you looked happy and proud, and you wouldn’t even have to read the reflection. they would tell you what it meant. they would tell you the reflection you cast in their minds.
and it wasn’t very hard to feel wild or strong with them, was it? you, who knew starvation, against the well-fed city-people? you, who could still read the halo of the moon, against the city-people who couldn’t even feel the first hesitant scent of autumn weeks before the first leaves fall? and you told yourself that as long as you remembered the starvation, how to read the halo, the scents, the changes of light and sounds, you would be safe. you would be wild. you wouldn’t be like them. that was what you told yourself, marrana.
as long as you could remember how to catch and kill prey, it was alright of you to let others feed you, you thought. it wasn’t forgetting, now was it?
but it doesn’t matter if you forget or not, now does it?
go out in the forest, marrana. go ahead, go build yourself a shelter against the howling autumn wind! go ahead, marrana; go build yourself a snare to snare the wild hares! go build yourself a fire, go out and find water to quench your thirst! no? you cannot do it any more?
are you afraid yet, marrana? have you forgotten how to read the winds? the whisper of autumn?
have you forgotten how to keep your head high when you have no one else to protect but yourself?
it hurts, marrana, doesn’t it?
now, what will you do about it? will you endure the pain, or will you give up? will you go back to them, or will you endure until you have regained your purpose? your own life, to share with them on your terms, because you want to, but not out of need? will you continue to lie to yourself, telling yourself that you could really be alone, if only things were different? why not find out? can you really survive, marrana?
this pain, it used to be a part of your life. have you forgotten, marrana? you used to twist it into art, push it and form it and break it and shatter it. it didn’t used to be allowed to twist and break and shatter you. but you had forgotten that, hadn’t you? you had begun to think that loneliness was just being you, just doing what you usually do, but without others. you had forgotten, and you cannot be blamed for forgetting the pain, marrana. but you are starting to remember now, aren’t you? the cold, the pain, the fear, the doubt. you are remembering them again. you recognise them, and you remember them. so what will you do about them, marrana? will you flee again, or will you fight them?
can you stand up for yourself, marrana? can you fight them again, break them again and twist them into art? or will you let them break you, again? can you fight them without having a pack backing you up?
can you fight them without having a pack to fight for?
will you last long enough to find out, marrana? would it not be interesting enough to be worth it?
it hurts, marrana. it is obvious that it hurts. especially when you cannot burn the pain away with anger.
so what do you do now, marrana?
what do you do now, marrana?
(26 sept 2010 – 21.19)