4/22/19
80s ambience bottled up in the perfect song
Cheers to the generations that got out and had it easier and harder and it was alright, alright, alright
4/13/19
The Promised Land
Why do we stay in the cradle?
Why do we provide suffering to our little heart?
Our star did not leave us, did not leave us
Our star did not leave us, did not leave us
The pulse of veins flowing in the earth
Faint, faint pulse
Heart leading to death
And the weak life return to the planet
Is it necessary to sacrifice the soul?
Why do we stay in the cradle?
Why do we beg for mercy?
In the fatal earth?
4/10/19
J'ai vu dans l'oeil de l'animal
J'ai vu dans l'oeil de l'animal
La vie paisible qui dure
Le calme impartial
De l'imperturbable nature
La bete connait la peur
Mais aussitot, elle avance
Et sur son champ d'abondance
Broute une presence
Qui n'a pas le gout d'ailleurs
Daiky, named Soccos before on this blog, is gone.
She died, my poor puppy, in a miserable way, in sad sad circumstances.
And now all that is left of her is our memories of her, and the short time I got to share with her in her infancy.
My goodness, I lost pets along the years but I don't seem to get used to the pain. It just sublimates into something else.
And this time, the weight is almost unbearable given the additional people tangled in this mourning. My two friends, both never through such a loss, both in a different country, both in such radically different emotional spaces and with radically different emotional responses. And both in this with their first for-legged companion, the first one any of them truly had, the first one they have as a couple, the one companion for one half when the other half is in another country.
I feel the sorrow deeply for them, their sense of loss is unbearable, the darkness is mighty and I can't do anything. I just witness, I just listen, I say something when I have to. But I can't do anything.
In my mind, there is a voice that speaks of how life is, how there is never a good time to get acquainted with it, and how privileged they were up until really and not really spared or doing things the right way to avoid such hardships. That voice speaks of the utter normality of death, the normality of little tragedies in the life of the average human, the maturity one has to develop facing their own mortality and that of those they love, the necessity of such lessons, the importance of looking through the pain and not reacting to it. That voice speaks of Gom Jabbar and trials of authentic humanity and humanitarian crisis and the call for actions and the sublimation of pain into something healthy and hopeful and... and... and...
But this voice doesn't take the wheel. This voice doesn't come out in conversations.
On one hand, these friends are nowhere near ready to have such conversations, even less right now. We will not be moving away from blaming everything around us for Daiky's death anytime soon.
On the other hand, I am feeling small and in a dark pit within myself in these days and I can't for the life of me help myself, I don't know how I could be of assistance or what I can give right now. I can barely hold it together for my own self. I listen, I take in the pain, I try my best to say something, to check, to find some solace for them. But inside, I see how hollow I am and I wonder what I am giving possibly, unless it is equally hollow, with no substance, just like the food I have been having steadily these days.
And studies don't stop or get any easier, and work commitments won't give me a break for some random non time framed BS. So I just get a hold of myself as much as I can.
Daiky sweet sweet girl, my baby puppy, you were a wonderful companion for the few months we got to be together in Casablanca. You opened doors for two people within them they didn't know they had. You allowed me to witness so much beauty unravel thanks to you, to be with you in hard times, in great times. In times of growth and intelligence, in times of compassion and complicity, you were there with me sweet sweet girl. I can't stop giving water to the dead and I don't know how I can come out of this one, so please look kindly upon us and grant us strength and might over the pain, that we sublimate it into something more merciful of us.
Please Daiky.
La vie paisible qui dure
Le calme impartial
De l'imperturbable nature
La bete connait la peur
Mais aussitot, elle avance
Et sur son champ d'abondance
Broute une presence
Qui n'a pas le gout d'ailleurs
Daiky, named Soccos before on this blog, is gone.
She died, my poor puppy, in a miserable way, in sad sad circumstances.
And now all that is left of her is our memories of her, and the short time I got to share with her in her infancy.
My goodness, I lost pets along the years but I don't seem to get used to the pain. It just sublimates into something else.
And this time, the weight is almost unbearable given the additional people tangled in this mourning. My two friends, both never through such a loss, both in a different country, both in such radically different emotional spaces and with radically different emotional responses. And both in this with their first for-legged companion, the first one any of them truly had, the first one they have as a couple, the one companion for one half when the other half is in another country.
I feel the sorrow deeply for them, their sense of loss is unbearable, the darkness is mighty and I can't do anything. I just witness, I just listen, I say something when I have to. But I can't do anything.
In my mind, there is a voice that speaks of how life is, how there is never a good time to get acquainted with it, and how privileged they were up until really and not really spared or doing things the right way to avoid such hardships. That voice speaks of the utter normality of death, the normality of little tragedies in the life of the average human, the maturity one has to develop facing their own mortality and that of those they love, the necessity of such lessons, the importance of looking through the pain and not reacting to it. That voice speaks of Gom Jabbar and trials of authentic humanity and humanitarian crisis and the call for actions and the sublimation of pain into something healthy and hopeful and... and... and...
But this voice doesn't take the wheel. This voice doesn't come out in conversations.
On one hand, these friends are nowhere near ready to have such conversations, even less right now. We will not be moving away from blaming everything around us for Daiky's death anytime soon.
On the other hand, I am feeling small and in a dark pit within myself in these days and I can't for the life of me help myself, I don't know how I could be of assistance or what I can give right now. I can barely hold it together for my own self. I listen, I take in the pain, I try my best to say something, to check, to find some solace for them. But inside, I see how hollow I am and I wonder what I am giving possibly, unless it is equally hollow, with no substance, just like the food I have been having steadily these days.
And studies don't stop or get any easier, and work commitments won't give me a break for some random non time framed BS. So I just get a hold of myself as much as I can.
Daiky sweet sweet girl, my baby puppy, you were a wonderful companion for the few months we got to be together in Casablanca. You opened doors for two people within them they didn't know they had. You allowed me to witness so much beauty unravel thanks to you, to be with you in hard times, in great times. In times of growth and intelligence, in times of compassion and complicity, you were there with me sweet sweet girl. I can't stop giving water to the dead and I don't know how I can come out of this one, so please look kindly upon us and grant us strength and might over the pain, that we sublimate it into something more merciful of us.
Please Daiky.
4/6/19
Back to Therapy
You know what they say of therapy? You ain't done when you decide you done.
So, I had to get back to the therapist office, after two years of not needing the stuff. My old therapist has graduated, and this one will as well at some point. I like her enough. I went there for A but we are on Y and the roots of (X)^n using eigenvalues, it's getting messier and I have the feeling we are not about to understand what exactly is happening right now right now.
But I choose to trust that therapist and do it her way, follow her path. I have nothing better to suggest anyway. It's not like I can access my moods or my understanding of myself anymore. I can't even access to my peaceful places anymore so, yes, let's follow the therapist's way.
There are days I have to fight myself horribly to get out of bed.
I am methodically destroying every bit of healthy thing I have been building the past three months.
I am actively avoiding anything that was a relief.
So my therapist said "You lead an austere and strict life, we need to change that". I didn't think that was a problem.
She has some suggestions, one of them seems to work.
I used to meditate so easily, effortlessly and it brought me the kick to start the day, the renewed energy to keep up after lunch, and the peace to get to work during the evening or to go to sleep. I used to meditate three times easily and to sleep soundly like I didn't have work and bills and PhD on my mind. Now, not anymore, I can't, I just can't. So Therapist suggests that I try something less than meditation but converging towards it, like walking and naming everything I see in my walk.
I pet sit for a colleague so I take the doggo for walks and try that, but it doesn't help.
On the other hand, I used to meditate at to the library on the third floor. I tried going back there and ended up browsing the portfolio of artists instead of trying to meditate, which turned out luckily to be more absorbing of an activity.
My mind hurts, not my head, my mind, and it feels like the sharpness and edge I gave that thing is turning against me. And now I am just coping man, just coping.
On the bright side, Vito and Sonny brought me a precious companionship I missed so so much
4/2/19
A Dawn Dance Dog Party
Petsitting + dog = dancing with dogs playlist and party at dawn.
Wake up at 5h00am
Take dog out for poop/pee
Shiver both of you and get done as soon as possible
Go back to the apartment and find coffee has already warmed up
Feed dog and cat
Eat oatmeal, drink coffee
Then, dance dance dance
or at least try, even if the heart is little less into it than the usual
