“In the depth of winter I finally learned that there is in me an invincible summer…”
You receive some wonderful, improbable, hoped-for good news. How do you celebrate?
It depends on the news I guess. As it is, I’ve been waiting to hear some good news about a certain thing for over two years now. If one of these days I heard that it finally happened, I will probably don’t know how to react. Disbelief would be the first thing that would cross in my mind, followed by relief, then acceptance. Then I will pack my bags and leave. Doesn’t matter where is the destination. Anywhere but here…
Sometimes I give up…
Sometimes I just sit back, and wish I was someone else, living another life.
I just feel that I can’t take any more.
I have tried so hard to understand, to accept, to agree, and to move on from the pain,
but it’s like a great weight, pulling me back, holding me down, and engulfing me.
I sometimes wonder what the point is in trying to sort things out,
given that I have to fight tooth and nail sometimes to be heard.
It would be so easy to run away to disappear to not be seen from, or heard from again.
Deep down I know I won’t be missed.
Deep down I know that I didn’t matter.
Sometimes I think that life is getting better,
and yet there is this gaping wound that is not healing.
I don’t know how to face it,
but I know that I will be facing it alone.
I sometimes I wonder where my friends are,
and what happened to all the people I have know and loved.
I sometimes wonder why they are gone from my life,
and if it was my fault.
Sometimes I just wonder if I think to much,
if I’m caught in a cycle of self reflection,
that ultimately has trapped me into feeling self loathing,
and self doubt.
I sometimes wonder if I have ever loved at all,
or did I just pretend so that I could feel love.
Maybe I don’t have the capacity to love,
or be loved.
Sometimes I wonder if I will smile and laugh again.
If my spirit will fly free and soar,
or will I spend the rest of my days alone,
trapped in an isolated self-created prison,
to which I no longer have the key,
or the understanding to escape.
I sometimes just wonder why,
but know that road leads to madness and insanity.
Still, they are better company than loneliness.
They are much better company than fear.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s all a dream,
and if one day I will wake up and find out that I am someone else,
and that I have another life.
The truth is sometimes just too painful to bear.
I sometimes wonder what happened to the dreams I had,
and the future I once wanted,
I wonder what happened to the life I once had.
Sometimes I think I must have dropped it along the way,
or put it down somewhere and forgot about it.
Sometimes I wonder why I believe that things will get better,
when the reality is that belief is fleeting.
What I want, what I need is a moment that I can believe in,
that I can hold on to,
and worship when the darkness comes.
I sometimes just wander,
and try to loose myself in a memory,
anything to escape the dreadful certainty that my time has gone past,
and that I missed the sign pointing me the right way.
And sometimes, just sometimes I believe that tomorrow just might be a better day…
When I was young I thought that thirty is the end of your life. You cannot possibly want something more when you reached that number. You’re old, finished, done with; the only thing left to do is to wait for the inevitable. When I was young, I thought thirty is palliative. Literally.
Now that I am fast approaching the afternoon of my life, I found out (in a hard way) that you never stop feeling simply because you get older. Years don’t diminish the desire to be loved, to be wanted to feel beautiful; it doesn’t take away the urge to feel connected and the longing for intimacy. The only difference is you want quality instead of quantity. Taste improves with years of experience. Preferences change. You can compare and know what’s best; you know exactly what you want.
Funny thing is (not that I am in that situation already, but I know it will come, another one of those inevitable) beggars cannot be choosy (and so they say) the offers are a lot less than when you are in your prime. Magazines are full of articles that say women in their 40’s onwards are invisible. Must be or otherwise the titles won’t say: “How to still get noticed when you reached a certain age.” Or “How to turn back the years and get attention again.” Things like that. Very depressing. As if the only way to regain your rightful place in the hunting ground (or in any field for that matter) is to possessed a magic wand and let those accumulated years and its consequences disappear and be young again (no wonder cosmetics surgery is a booming business) which is impossible. No amount of power and money can turn back the time.
But enough of that. Let’s concentrate with what matters and that is: getting old in a relationship that saddled you with desire that never been fulfilled, expectations that never meet, longing that never been satisfied, emptiness that keeps getting bigger and bigger each day it is threatening to swallow you up. Another inevitable? The fact that no one can live like a ghost albeit your former self. The amount of nothing is nothing and sooner or later you will look for what you need elsewhere. Maybe you will never find it but it is better to try and failed than just sit there and wait for something to happen…
I bought myself a life long sentence looking for my rainbow connection…
Lately I’m beginning to rely more and more on my archives to find articles to post on my blog. I simply have no time to write new ones. Since the weather change for the better I find myself saddle with a lot of things to tackle on top of the daily routine and bits and pieces of my ordinary life.
Suddenly there is roof, gate, driveway and patio to wash; perennials to dig, move and divide, hedges and trees to trim, spent flowers and ornamental grasses to cut, the pond needs cleaning so is the gutter and the garage needs some tidying up and organizing. Not to mention the house is ready for the annual spring cleaning and of course all those chores have to be done all over again for our country house which is a bit more daunting than doing the same for our house in the suburb because not only the house in the country is three times bigger, I have a real cottage garden there too as opposed to landscaped one we have here near the city. And anyone who has a cottage garden knows how hard it is to keep and maintain one. It seems easy for it has relax abandoned atmosphere but looks can be deceiving believe you me. And of course there is the vegetables garden as well…
Another thing is (now that the weather is good) I prefer working outside than sitting on the front of the computer. As if all those things that seemed important last winter don’t hold any significance anymore now that the sun is shining. All I want to do is go outside and explore, watch the things grow and listen to the birds singing. I even resume my daily afternoon walk after work. The day is getting longer and I have more time to roam and relax. In the weekend I find myself visiting garden centres again to look for new wonderful plants to add to my collection or just to walk around and observe. It’s nice to see all those possibilities one can have if one chooses to.
There is a lot of work to be done but I’m doing it with lightheartedness and enthusiasm. Spring is truly magical, full of life, hopes, inspirations and new horizons to explore. I can hardly wait for the flowers to bloom.
I will fall in love someday.
I will find the one who can make my body sings my heart melts and my spirit soar. I will feel like a woman once again like I used to, I shall smile run shout sing and dance in the rain with so much abandon. There will be sunshine, long glorious days, passionate nights and tender evenings. There will be endless caresses tight lingering hugs sweet murmured and hot kisses. I will dream the lovers dreams wake up contented go through my chores with springs on my feet knowing someone is there for me loving knowing understanding sharing the same feelings. Together we will explore what life got to offer discovering testing proving tempting the fate supporting each other all the way learning experiencing enjoying the roller coaster ride. He will be my rock my anchor my friend my saviour someone I could trust learn depend and lean on. He will be my lover my teacher my mentor.
He will be my home…
“I have developed an acute sense of dark humour as a defense mechanism. Without it, I would be driven mad and become terminally depressed by the endless encounter with human evil and perversity.”
This morning (what morning is to me) clad in my pyjamas I went to pick bram berries at the bottom of the garden. Reaching the gate that separated my land to the next property I saw that the pile of bricks which I loosely stapled the other day next to a cyclone wire fence had tumbled down and some of them were leaning against the chain link barrier, and I thought: the goats were at it again.
Normally, there was a piece of corrugated metal roofing behind the fence to keep the animals reaching my plants. They tend to eat everything that grows higher than the barricade. That morning the metal plate was nowhere to be seen.
Approaching nearer I saw that there were two elderly gentlemen standing by the gate behind the wires, so I pivoted for so many obvious reasons; one of them is I don’t like morning people… or mornings… or people. But it was too late, they have seen me already.
The conversation went like this:
“Hey, miss… come here!” One of them commanded. I don’t care much about being treated that way but for the sake of peace I walked back and asked:
“What it is?”
“Don’t be so stupid. You did this!” He said pointing at the fallen bricks.
“You have done this on purpose. I’ve seen you do it! Yes I did!” And he begun jumping up and down excitedly.
To his partner he said: “Call the police at this very moment. I am a witness. I will give a signed statement to back up your claim.”
I was flabbergasted (which happens rarely) and I said to the guy: “Why should I or anybody do such nonsense?”
Before the madman could give an answer, his companion sent him to the other side of the property without really saying anything except inclining his head to that direction.
Then the good guy started straightening the bricks, putting them one by one through the hole in the cyclone wires to my side of the fence, telling me stories about keeping goats may seem romantic but it is a lot of work because the damn animals are very hard to contain. He told me he found two of his chickens between my compost heaps and greenhouse the other day. He didn’t realize they could go over so he put them away he said. I think that is his way of apologizing for what happened and acknowledging his part of the problem.
His psychotic friend came back and helped him erect a new fence to keep away his romantic herd from feasting on my plants without further comments. I said goodbye to them and wish them a wonderful day ahead. Half way through my garden, the flood gate of heaven had opened and let mighty torrents of rain fell over our little corner of paradise. Buckets after buckets spilling over as if there is no tomorrow. I sought refuge in my gazebos.
From a distance, I heard outburst of colourful words, followed by string of profanities, more swearing from both gentlemen then howl of pain; seemed one of them had dropped something on someone or somebody fell on something.
I smiled. Sometimes Karma doesn’t get stuck in the traffic and comes sooner than expected.
I have to fall in love. Even it’s only for fun (what else it could be?) pretending one is falling for somebody and harvest only the benefits and advantages of being one__ meaning enjoying the cloak and dagger aspect of an early stage romance before the familiarity sets in and corrupt the mystery oh yeah__ with all its goofy rituals, then jump out of the boat before it reaches the boring soil of that oh so familiar terrain of an established relationship not to mention the dead end/cul-de-sac of marriage.
But where to find an specimen that will do all the necessary song and dance without further complicating the matter by taking everything seriously like really falling for you. One who understands no string attach means exactly that. One who will not ask questions and doesn’t expect anything and will let you off the hook without so much drama when it is time for the curtain to close and the play is over and have the decency to keep his mouth shut and will not view the episode as another feather to stick in his cap.
It used to be a lot easier once upon a time. I don’t know that one can possibly cultivate more conscience when one gets older. And the burden of morals and self-righteousness could become heavier as the time goes by. That attention from younger examples can give one creeps because it reminds one of children, particularly ones own.
And the things about someone you once find amusing (even slightly attractive) before will make you think not twice but all the time if that certain individual is really fit and right for the part you had in mind.
Makes you doubt if you would not hate yourself afterwards when you think that you fooled around with somebody who slurps his soup, has a bit of earwax left even after he showered, wears safari coloured shirt with iron creases on the short sleeves they stand upright like butterfly wings. Things like that can give one serious nightmares.
Sometimes, I think falling in love like sex is so much ‘ado about nothing. Especially when it’s over and you’re the one who have to clean up the mess. In most cases, women always do. But the feeling of embarking into a new adventure is quite addictive. And I’m talking out of experience. I can honestly say: had been there done that more than twice over and back. The only thing that didn’t happen is breaking my heart over someone or something. Scarred, dented, a little damaged but broken, no. I’m too sober for that. Besides, I’m guarding it with iron walls surrounded with barbed wires. My ex has another explanation of course. He said it never happened because I never hang around past the cloak and dagger stage of a romance. That I usually on my way to another shore before the relationship even have a chance to define itself. How can he say that when I was married to him for over 20 years?
Anyway, the newness of a fresh start of something yet undefined has a taste of adventure in it. And adventure is something everybody craves.
It is a natural energy booster. Works wonders in ones self-confidence and self-worth and lends strength to face life challenges with renewed vigour. No wonder those who are suffering from midlife crisis often embarked on new adventures. Only often times, it manifest into totally disastrous outcomes we are all so familiar with.
And what if the novelty is over? It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all-so to speak? I don’t know…
But I want to experience that exhilarating sensation again. That addictive intoxicating invigorating electrifying stimulating inspiring feeling of something new and different about to unfold. I want to feel young, desirable wanted beautiful sexy and all that jazz again. But without the usual consequences.
Is that too much to hope/ask for?