i visit my ex mother in law who is dying. she has a few days left but she is whacked out on meds, she has really gone already, she is a shadow being, wears the death mask, her body is ravaged with this illness, her mind dispersed.
i speak to her partner who is surprised but happy to see me. i explain i lost their number and apologise for turning up. we talk a little, i feel calm inside but outwardly i feel like a nerdish hugh grant in some gothic movie,
there are nurses come to help caring all sorts of stuff, i don't see myself ever getting to this point. i don't want to die like this, i know i won't.
i stand outside and send some energetic healing over to them, it's not enough. suddenly it's not a good day for dying. what a contradiction i am sometimes. but for anything to be true it must contain it's own contradiction.
the days slips away from me. i think about all the things i have to do, i write a list and contemplate the tasks, i think about the events that lead to the moments, i skim the surface of the pool and dip under, i see the hopes and dreams aspire and unravel, i taste the bitter sweet, feel the pleasure and pain, the sensual narcotic breeze of illusion, the maya attracts our dense nature, it's so seductive, i'm just as weak when it comes to a girl with a nice smile and friendly disposition, i wander through the morning seeing people stare at me, wave and come up to stroke pansy. everyone loves pan, every one knows he is special.
i consider talking to my mother, it will be so difficult but worthwhile, i don't know what i can do to heal that wound, it's so deep and complex and possibly something i just have to accept i cannot fix but i feel obligated to attempt this. the moment passes and i'm suddenly in a past event with a witch i used to go out with, vikki, everyone thought she was nuts but she was probably the sanest girl i ever met. i'll write about her later.
i have not eaten anything since last night, i have not really done anything on my list, my head feels heavy, my heart is lighter than a dandelion, my teeth need cleaning. i write that on my list. 10 years later i still fill my heart with smoke, i still want those birds. i'm like a romantic tragedy, everything just fell apart over some thing i can't recall yet, something terrible that requires me to be safe. loyalty maybe, violence, a rage, something happened, anyway it's 10 years old and whatever it was is ancient history but there's an instinct inside me that gently asks for safety.