Enjoy the Silence

We've been out and about for a while now...going from city to city without much of a rest. We arrived in the County Cork last night. This is Sara's favorite place to unwind. For the first time, there are no strangers, no mysterious errands - nothing but peace and quiet. Nothing and no one but me and her. It's nice to be alone with her. I could stay here forever. It's so beautiful, she's so beautiful.

Sara has been avoiding my camera all this time, but I managed a snap in the wee morning hours.

Of course she moved as I snapped it, my blurry friend

In Captivity

being silly here, but I'm actually scared of being locked up

Last night was rough. I had one of the worst nightmares that I can remember. I dreamt that I was back in the flat my parents got me in Paris and that there was this woman... She looked like me, but she wasn't me and she was possessed. I haven't seen the Exorcist since that time Jon-Michael rented it and insisted that we watch it with all of the lights off. I had nightmares about that movie for months, but this was different. I woke up before anything really happened, but I was still scared. I was sweating and crying. I think I might have screamed because Sara was awake next to me. She held me close and kissed my head as she told me that it was going to be okay. When I closed my eyes and breathed her in, I actually believed it. I felt silly when I told her about my dream, but she said that it made sense. Apparently, dreaming about demonic possession is a good thing. Who knew? Sara said that it means I have unresolved issues. Will I ever escape this captivity? Somehow, Linda Blair is not so scary anymore.

Walking in London

We arrived in London yesterday. Sara has a friend here, she has friends everywhere. He let us stay in a spare bedroom at his flat. I slept next to her - we've been sharing the same bed for the last few weeks.  I've watched her sleep these many nights and I want to reach out and touch her. I can't really explain it, it's not like I'm a lesbian or anything. This woman, she's just so magnificent. I don't think she feels the same way about me - I don't know what I would do if she did. We stayed up late, as we do, talking of her travels. It's an interesting life she leads. She never stays in the same place for more than a few days and she never knows where she'll be in a week's time. She says that she doesn't make plans, they make her. She follows her nose to the next city and opens herself up to whatever or whoever comes. She smiled at me when she said that. I wonder how many people have been like me, swept up in the tornado that is this woman. Mesmerized by her existence and captivated by her presence. She's so   amazing, I just want to live in her light.

I left early today to explore the city. Sara insisted that I go out and explore on my own for a while. A big part of me is scared that she won't be there when I return, but she promised that she wouldn't leave me behind. London is beautiful - I spent the entire morning walking through the streets. It's strange that so much of that stuff we learned in history class happened here. The city's age is reflected from side streets and buildings, but all of the cars and shops make me feel like I'm in a time warp. 

I returned to the flat to see if Sara was up for lunch. She loves to sleep in, rising whenever she feels like it. Hers is a life of complete freedom. If she doesn't want to do something, she doesn't do it...plain and simple. I heard voices when I walked in - one of them was hers. The other belonged to an Englishman and it wasn't the friend we were staying with. I was quiet as I crept down the hallway to the bedroom. The door was only slightly ajar and I peeked in through the crack to see her bent over with her hands on the desk as he took her from behind. She looked bored as he had his way with her. It didn't last long and he was zipping up within minutes. She leaned back against the desk and held out her hand to him. He handed over a wad of cash and she told him to show himself out. He came out of the room and I dove into a closet. After he left, I stayed in the closet. I didn't know what to do. 

There was a knock on the door and I heard Sara's voice. She told me to come out, but I really just wanted to pretend that I hadn't seen any of it. She opened the door and poked her head inside. She didn't apologize for what she had done. She wasn't even ashamed. she knelt down in front of me and kissed my hand. The feel of her lips on my flesh was intoxicating. She started to explain, but I couldn't hear her. Our eyes met and she said something in French then she kissed me. I forgot all about the Englishman. That was business, but when she took me into her bed...that was something else.

When in Rome...

I woke with the most divine view of the world this morning. 

Buongiorno, Roma!

A week ago, I stood in the catacombs to avoid lunch with my mother. It was the best decision I've ever made. I never expected to find freedom in this underground boneyard amongst the ghosts. That's when I saw her. She was beautiful, but she was so much more than that. She was magnificent. I wanted to take her picture, but all I could do was stand there, gawking like a schoolgirl, as she traced the empty eye sockets of a skull in the wall of the catacombs. She must have felt my heavy gaze because she turned to me and spoke just above a whisper, "This is what we become."

Like an idiot, I just stood there and nodded. She smiled and extended her hand to introduce herself. Here name was Sara and every part of me was pleased to make her acquaintance. She asked me to have a cup of coffee with her and I couldn't resist. She told me of her travels. She is a lovely French woman who walks the world like a gypsy. She's been everywhere, even my home town. She calls me a cowgirl and tells me that the only person I can please is myself then she jokes, "unless that person is in your bed, of course." I have not been in her bed, but the thought kind of crossed my mind.

As our cups empty, I ask her if she plans to stay in Paris long. She said that she was actually on her way out. My disappointment was obvious and she tells me to meet her at the train station in two hours…I knew right away that I wouldn't be just seeing her off. I hoped that was the case. She tells me to grab only what I need and I asked her where we were going. She just said, "Away." 

Can you believe this stuff is in the middle of the city??

And now we are in Rome, doing as the Romans do. The city is beautiful and wondrous to me, but Sara's been here before. She took me around to the touristy places then she showed me the Rome that she knows. I write to you now from an internet cafe. I managed to hijack this computer to let you all know that I'm okay. I'm more okay than I've been in a very long time. No more time to chat, guys...we're off to squeeze down tiny streets to find our accommodations for the evening.

Ciao... xo

Walking With the Ghosts

Waking up in Paris should be dreamy and romantic. What girl doesn't want to wake up here? Not this one. It's not any better than sitting in my apartment back home. I though it would be different here, but it's the same. Christmas was uneventful, as usual. John Michael said that he would come out, but he was a no show. I was excited for about ten seconds, but I knew that he wasn't coming. I wish he would have. I really miss him. New Year's was fun, though. I dropped by my parents' for dinner then ended up partying with tourists under the Eiffel Tower. 

"I hope you find what you're looking for."  That was the last thing my brother said to me when he dropped me off at the airport for my trip.  I suddenly hoped the same thing, but how do I find what I'm looking for if I don't know what it is?

Sometimes, I just drift through the streets of Paris like a ghost. I want to be inspired and to find that thing that Jon Michael hoped for me, but it's just not here. I like going down to the catacombs beneath the streets. It's peaceful there, me and the other ghosts. When I first came to Paris a couple of weeks ago, my mother took me around to the touristy places and we ended up there. She rattled on about the history, but I was mesmerized by the thousands of skulls that stared back at me. I didn't hear a word of what she was saying, all I could do was wonder who loved these lost souls. Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe, but then I think of this place and I wonder, who could love this lost soul?

I was supposed to meet my mother for lunch today, but I think I will walk with the ghosts of the catacombs instead.

Walking With the Ghosts: these lost souls

bon appétit!

Visited my parents today.  Eating lunch with mom and dad was a flashback to childhood.      

bon appétit: lunch with the rents

Mom sipped her “ice” tea and Dad went on and on about how things are so much different than they were then.  I listened to them, sure.  But it has been a long time since we last sat at a table together.  So I drifted....  I remembered playing with my dolls and building towns in the dirt outside.  I remembered decorating the grove of trees with mardi gras beads and claiming it as my own as they worked around the house.  Mom always put a jar of sun tea out on Sundays when it was sunny.  Dad worked on the backyard garden and his boat/canoe.  Hmmm, those were some easy like Sunday mornings.

Hello, France!

Another place... feels like another time here.
I am different, slightly lighter and a bit more at ease...  It’s a feeling I want to last but somehow fear that it won’t.  Being away from all that has been familiar to me is not frightening at all.  It seems to be what I need.  I don’t know how I would have gone on pacing within the walls of that apartment talking to Re-run as if she were still there.  


It was home for a while and my heart will always hold a piece of it.  But for now I will relish my time away and take in as much as I can.

Hello France!!!!

Hello France!: Moulin Rouge

... And Now Back To Our Usual Programming

(Let’s actually hope for de-programming).  I’d say, “welcome back” but I no longer claim to know where you are coming from or where I am welcoming us back to.  I have done my best to cleanse myself... and to liberate my companion.  I have accepted where I am currently and because I have accepted it,  have decided to hop this huge island for another.

... And Now Back To Our Usual Programming: blue

Europe has been calling my name and I finally picked up.  I fly out on the 11th (2 days from now).  I’m subleasing my apartment to some friends.  Jennifer(one of the gals at work) is going to use my car while I’m away and my position at the kennel will remain until I return.  I have not been there, although my parents moved there almost 4 years ago.  I am anticipating new scenery and welcoming the adventures I am about to embark on.  There is a small “flat” in Paris that mom has reserved for me.  I was hesitant to take her up on her offer at first.  But, part of growing up is letting go of old ways and being open to new ones. 

The Want Defeats The Purpose

It’s been about a month without her.  Thoughts of her nearly trick me in fleeting moments... trick me into thinking she is still here with me.  But nobody is here.. nobody but me and my reflection and a flood of unexplainable dreams.  The girls at work don’t even seem to want me around on account of my sad presence....  This maddening solitude has made a few points to me.  The trend of only surrounding yourself with “good” energy is fine in theory.  But is it good energy to be selfish when those who are selfish are at war with themselves in the first place?  I am beginning to understand more of where my little brother is coming from.  Being “good” is not based on whether or not you follow some old guidelines or new progressive thought wave...  the want to be recognized as “good” defeats the very idea of it.  Unfortunately, it seems to take tragedy to open our eyes(for some of us).  The ones, like my brother, who are naturally tuned in are coming at it from the opposite side of this existance.  They are rare gems who we all feel justified in pushing out because they do not fit the criteria of the times.  It’s nonsense.  I know this now as I sit here with my heart in my hands in need of a little love with no one but my reflections to give it to me.  Nobody answers the phone now...  they just want to go out and have fun.  I suppose I, of all people, cannot fault them for that.  I have outgrown my surroundings or have suddenly realized that I never “fit” in.  I have to form a retreat for myself.  For no religious or political reasons, I will be exiting the accessible realm for a while.  Quiet time is to be taken out.  I have to find a center somehow before I can go on functioning.  I leave you for a short commercial free break with something I read out of yet another book given to me sometime ago.

Imagine a man or a group of people who, alone or together in a quiet place where no radio, no background music can be heard, simply sit for an hour or a half hour in silence.  They do not speak.  They do not pray aloud.  They do not have books or papers in their hands.  They are not reading or writing.  They are not busy with anything.  They simply enter into themselves, not in order to think in an analytical way, not in order to examine, organize, plan, but simply to BE.  They want to get themselves together in silence.  They want to synthesize, to integrate themselves, to rediscover themselves in a unity of thought, will, understanding, and love that goes beyond words, beyond analysis, even beyond conscious thought.
~T. Merton, Love and Living

Loneliness

I mourn for her.  I feel more alone than I have ever felt before.  I turn in every direction looking for comfort that’s not to be found.  I keep turning...... in circles.  I have become a classic record kept after warping just for the sake of being kept.  I stay in a sleeve ornate with lovely artwork.  The record stays there because it cannot get beyond a certain point and is doomed to repeat itself.  The repetition of it is descriptive of how I feel now.  I pace the floor without destination looking for my sweet Spirit keeper, for anything, for my SPIRIT.  Did I have one at all?  Is it something I have lost along the way.... or it is something I have yet to truly find?  I miss Re-Run.  I miss my baby brother.  I miss kayla.  I miss myself.  All I can do is take showers and cry.  Just opening the door to get outside of my rented space is a task.  Television turns me inside out with uncontrollable emotion.  Loneliness is a concept that lays on a dissecting table before me.

Loneliness: lonely, alone