Well hello stranger. It's been a long time hasn't it? I almost feel like I've been gone for ages and years, not months have flown by without the time for thinking, reflecting, simply understanding what is happening instead of being borne along the tide.
On hindsight, perhaps this constant riding the wave is much preferable to having time to stop and think, to do things not related to work such as looking on facebook and knowing what is happening in other people's lives, well a particular person's life that I just can't not poke my nose into. Curiosity killed the cat. Play with fire and you get burned. Yes always the wise words, always the advice but we just don't learn do we? We keep playing with fire, we keep opening up those Pandora's boxes in our lives. There is something to be said of the Freudian notion of the death drive. At least she's from Cambridge, at least she's totally different. Well, at least I'd like to believe she's totally different. Let's just leave it as different, not better. Move on, yes I hear you shouting, Poppy. I hear you, I really do. I hear the Sandman too. All your words whirling in my head and believe you me I am trying to wrestle with these demons inside. I can hear you shouting through the thick mist but I can't untangle the stranglehold of these ghosts. Even though you might think I don't hear you and choose to wallow - I do not wallow and will not wallow. I simply choose not to participate... - but the truth is that I do. I do hear you. You must know that. You creep in and out of my consciousness and you read my mind. You live in my mind. You me we three are one.
With time everything fades
yes indeed that was something i said
for change is the only ever-unchanging thing
now doesn't that too have a familiar ring?
Yet the shadows of the past continue to haunt me
rising from the shallow graves of memory
now and again - returning to plague me.
...
Well there it's obviously going to take some more time. Another couple of years perhaps?
The problem with having one's emotional state so far divorced from the other states of mind, for instance that which concerns itself with career building and sense of self worth from what one achieves in the arena of work, is that when you stop focusing on the career building and all that, you collapse into a chasm as your emotional state is akin to an inner city slum compared to the skyscraper of a career you are busy building. Yet what can one do? I can't rid the slum and grime all in one day. It's been accummulated for years that I can't even keep track of its inhabitants anymore and I do not wish to postpone my skyscraper building just because of the existence of the slum.
I'm rationalising again. Or am I making excuses? I don't know. All I do know is that work is in my power and looking at the photograph of them two, hand in hand, smiling, makes me recall a poem I wrote back on 18 Feb 2002 ... does everything come full circle? How many circles are there? How many times will we find ourselves opening our hearts and reaching out only to be dropped from sky high to rock bottom? Is it worth it? Why should I trust anyone with my life? I've picked up the pieces, cut my hands with the broken shards and with this incomplete puzzle of myself I now venture to build a life again, why should I risk it all again? A constant low is a choice of moderation. At least I know I chose to be at a constant low. The constant state is what I crave. I crave stability, security, to feel safe. People are inconsistent. I do not trust anyone. Sometimes not even myself.
And that is when my very sense of self is questioned and rendered unstable ... the state which I fear the most perhaps, and I hate it when I compare other people to you, to what you were to me, what you are or what I perceive you to be ... I look at the photo and question do I really want to stay in the UK for another year? Risk a meeting, all our mutual friends ... oh go and stay with your Cambridge possy and leave me be.
no words to say but just a smile
hangs upon my lips for a while
but neither blind nor deaf am i
and it was killing me just to stand by
to watch in silence, to pretend, to lie
that my heart and soul were not begging to die.
for every move you took
every word you spoke
and every little loving look
assaulted my senses and made me choke.
i was swept off my feet that's true
and nothing's left but me, the fool
it was all a dream that has now fallen through
for i am no longer loved by you.
so go ahead and treat me rough
for fortune never seems to have enough
and even though i'm not that tough
one gets accustomed to life as chaff.
...
and today, I cry again for you.
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