Monday, September 04, 2006


First thought this mornng (b4 running off to work pressed for time after waking up late, meeting w/ super, not being able to sleep last night even after posting and stress stress stress pressing around my heart thinking of everything that lies ahead this year and in general, on all fronts): how scarred we all are. Just this word, scarred, replaying itself, till I have to take the time out from the frentic way-too-late getting-ready and write it. This is triggered by what C. told me last night on the train, regarding a friend of hers, who's in a great position professionally, financially. You never ever know what people have been through by looking. And most people have.
And thinking about myself, how I have always been implicated by grief and loss, and how that has affected all my attachments. I go home now "for" my parents, but I am not able to connect to them, and the more I love them the more I distance myself. And the more I distance myself, the more I fear that when I am finally brave enough, it will be too late. Just like I wasn't able to say goodbye to the dog, who is ungracefully dying in the yard, blind, deaf, with recurring strokes or fits, stumbling around in arthritic circules like a broken toy, pissing and pooing on herself, and we are not able to tell the vet: that's it. I wish we could do that when I was there. The three of us, say goodbye to her properly. I remember what my mum said when my cousin was sent to Lebanon (he's in Thailand now, phew), that she and her brother, whom I have always precieved as distant and cynical, went to "visit the parents", together. I never visit a graveyard, and all I feel is subdued anger and detached cynicism, and on the love front, suffice to say, as much as I dig P., it won't be easy to slip into girlfriend mode again. Aaah I can't wait to see him though [ did I say it alreadym he is the coolest most laidback accepting person I met, and though he won't acknowldge he loves me, I love him; called him last night from Madonna concert in the middle of Like a Virgin, couldn't hear a thing of course, but wanted him to hear, but turns out his mum picked up the phone, other guys I dated in the past would have made a fuss or felt embarassed, but not my supercool baby], although there's tons I need to do till I see him Wed., including all the hospital thingies and surgery tomorrow morning (very minor and without full anasthesia, but I'd like someone to be there; and thinking how my mum always does these things alone, and how people leave their parents and move to other countries, and how I hate hate hate and become hardened and resist whenever C. asks one of her probing questions about my family or friends, how's this and how's that, and how judgemental I was of my "arch enemy" B. 2 years ago, and how knowing what she has to face with her father, and now on the BF front, changes everything, and what a little-big bitch I was, completely).

Run, run like the wind...

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