just back from a Madonna concert in the Ajax Amsterdam Arena (100 Euro [cheapest] ticket!), which was awsome. The most touching part, Madonna on the cross with a crown of thorns around her head (which Xtians were picketing against outside), and numbers running above here, running until they reached 12,000,000 - the number of children orphaned by AIDS in Africa, and she sang "Live to Tell", one of my favorite Madonna songs (the other is "Secret"... theme anyone?).
I got home and there were some amazing emails. One from my new mentor at poz.com - I finally decided to reach out. Usually I have men write me from a singles ad I placed there once, but it's not the same. I mean, I am not looking for a partner right now, I am looking for support, for that spring board that will hopefully enable me to give support and focuse me. The HIV is just an excuse... I needed focusing badly anyways, just the HIV won't allow me to ignore that anymore.
Went with my good friend C. and throughout the long train ride caught up on her and others' lives, not in the gossipy way, more in a everyone-is-a-universe kind of way.
Tomorrow ( today actually): work, socializing, gym (must...) still no fags I hope (not even counting days this time just going without but telling myself I can smoke whenever I want to; and I didn't even write here what made me quit, this time. The last time, when I quit for 4 years, it was watching Requiem for a Dream. This time it was meeting a wonderful Jewish Orthodox woman on a rooftop in J'lem one night, at some event I attended, who is finally recently divorced from a husband who wouldn't release her for years and years, a total headcase, has a much larger than average number of children as well as jobs - I am not writing anymore details so as not to expose her or myself here - but still maintains such a calm, accepting optimism, that I just said F it, I can kick this nasty little habit especially that I only smoke(d) socially and between 1-5 a day, some days not at all). Waiting for the drugs to hit me, reading Zadie Smith's On Beauty on the train, once again inspired to write, also by all of C.'s stories.
Work - gotta find time for it, and it's the last thing on my mind. What with hospital appointments Tuesday (biopsy) and Wedensday (HIV; social worker) and P. coming here on that day.... mmmm.... And lashed out and got bashed on the Ynet HIV forum, was cynical and crude, but I don't give a toss, I am tired of replying to wierd-ass questions from AIDSophobics, I mean of the kind that think that if a drop of water fell on them from above it could be blood spraying out of a poz. And I am not making this scenario up.