La Meditation
Have you been patient with me friends? I must apologise. I have been absent for the past few months. What do you do when you have been inundated with emotional wreckage? You hide under the bower of thorns and scrape the flesh off with poison.
What happened? Life happened. Disappointment and ardour - all lost in the harbour of my own storm. What wreckage cast onto my shore? The body of my lover - loved - beloved. How ephemeral are relationships? How ephemeral.
I lay bare now under the hot sun, recuperating and sucking in all that I call life. I let my skin burn because I deserve it. I let the charred flesh peel the guilt that I have housed in my soul. Let the bastard burn!
I realised two things about myself in these two months. Perhaps the realisation was always there but now it has blossomed with ivy. The first is that my libido does not connect with Logos. That there is something about a tongue, a kiss, and a touch that drives my body into frenzy. And when that happens, all senses are compressed in space and time to that one moment of affectivity. It matters not if my lover is beast or foe, ghost or flesh; all that matters is the moment of affectivity. This surprised me, to say the least. I never knew I had it in me. I never knew that something, someone, could overwrite the strength of my mind. That I could be fooled and be made a fool by a pathetic thing like a genital. So strange - how humiliating. :)
And I realised another dangerous part of myself that I have hidden for so many years. That I am needless; that there is little in me that cries out for assistance. My independence has, for so many years, been a bane to my relationship with men. My bastion of self is impenetrable and I have sustained these towers and moat with the sinew and flesh of my soul. Who do I need but another that has need of my needlessness? No. This happened and I was drowned in the arms of desperation and depression.
I cannot be suffocated and I cannot be wanted as he would want me. I cannot give as he would ask me to give for I am a selfish being. Selfish indeed when it comes to the space of my mind to roam, the space of my legs to run, the space of my eyes to witness, and the space of my heart to shelter others. Again, no, I'm not a whore. I cannot be non-monogamous. It is too confusing and time consuming. But I am selfish nevertheless. I do not know how to give as my lovers wish to take. Friends may take as much as they may hold for they will always leave. But lovers, lovers, lovers, lovers - partners? - they take and do not leave. I have no time to recuperate. They take too much and stay too long.
I don't know. I'm confused. I hurt others by being myself. Perhaps I have yet to find that person in which I would sacrifice for. But that sounds utterly ridiculous and illogical. Wherefore is the care for the self as Michel Foucault has asked us to beware? Perhaps he never loved. Perhaps I never will.
What happened? Life happened. Disappointment and ardour - all lost in the harbour of my own storm. What wreckage cast onto my shore? The body of my lover - loved - beloved. How ephemeral are relationships? How ephemeral.
I lay bare now under the hot sun, recuperating and sucking in all that I call life. I let my skin burn because I deserve it. I let the charred flesh peel the guilt that I have housed in my soul. Let the bastard burn!
I realised two things about myself in these two months. Perhaps the realisation was always there but now it has blossomed with ivy. The first is that my libido does not connect with Logos. That there is something about a tongue, a kiss, and a touch that drives my body into frenzy. And when that happens, all senses are compressed in space and time to that one moment of affectivity. It matters not if my lover is beast or foe, ghost or flesh; all that matters is the moment of affectivity. This surprised me, to say the least. I never knew I had it in me. I never knew that something, someone, could overwrite the strength of my mind. That I could be fooled and be made a fool by a pathetic thing like a genital. So strange - how humiliating. :)
And I realised another dangerous part of myself that I have hidden for so many years. That I am needless; that there is little in me that cries out for assistance. My independence has, for so many years, been a bane to my relationship with men. My bastion of self is impenetrable and I have sustained these towers and moat with the sinew and flesh of my soul. Who do I need but another that has need of my needlessness? No. This happened and I was drowned in the arms of desperation and depression.
I cannot be suffocated and I cannot be wanted as he would want me. I cannot give as he would ask me to give for I am a selfish being. Selfish indeed when it comes to the space of my mind to roam, the space of my legs to run, the space of my eyes to witness, and the space of my heart to shelter others. Again, no, I'm not a whore. I cannot be non-monogamous. It is too confusing and time consuming. But I am selfish nevertheless. I do not know how to give as my lovers wish to take. Friends may take as much as they may hold for they will always leave. But lovers, lovers, lovers, lovers - partners? - they take and do not leave. I have no time to recuperate. They take too much and stay too long.
I don't know. I'm confused. I hurt others by being myself. Perhaps I have yet to find that person in which I would sacrifice for. But that sounds utterly ridiculous and illogical. Wherefore is the care for the self as Michel Foucault has asked us to beware? Perhaps he never loved. Perhaps I never will.
posted by Insouciantfemme at 2:08 am
5 Comments:
We have been patient Insouci, and we will be patient again, your writing is worth the waiting
I think both of you had different priorities. Im a very independent person myself but I wasnt when I fell in love with my current lover. We live together now and she realized that distance is a necessity in everydayness with her. Gladly, she adjusts, and similarly I adjust and try to be closer.
-Hugo
It doesnt always work out but at least we are trying. Till we fall out of love and unto another.
Love comes in many forms but it is all the same thing.
Love is to give without profitting.
Start by giving small articles to someone unknown or a friend who really need them. Take a small step at a time.
No one says it's gonna be easy. But keep trying though. Because really the last thing we wanna do is to love and be loved.
hello dear friends! And hello Hugo! :)
Thank you for your patience and thank you for your sagacious advice. I do feel better now. You know how it is when you're cathartic. It get's the crap out of the system.
Hugo, thank you for the personal narrative. It gives me hope. It really does.
Ginger darling, you're always sweet. I shall take love without profiting - if I take love. :)
And my wonderful arti, you're always knocking on my door when I am not around and send me gifts so beautiful. And when I return, I have so much to give again because you give unconditionally.
My love to you all. Thank you. :)
IF
And I thought I have issues........ -_-"""""" coffee lol
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