Become the Cookie!

2008-10-10 15.57.32

It isn’t ‘either/or’ it is ‘and/and’.

That is something people sometimes don’t understand about me. Most do but most are not trying to marry me. The very few who want me all to themselves, for some reason, miss the point that there are people in the world I love and the choice is not ‘me or everyone else’, the choice is ‘me AND everyone else.’

I have been in long term marriages and relationships with people who defined the meaning of ‘relationship’ as ‘either/or’. I was that was once myself and imposed a vast loneliness upon myself thinking that was the right thing to do.

It isn’t.

What happens when it is either/or is the eventual growth of dependency, martyrdom and, in the end, actual dislike. People in healthy relationships have ‘others friends’ and having those friends does not mean they are cheating and much of the time those friends are the same gender and they are not gay OR lesbian.

Human beings need approbation from each other. We need good times and a circle of love to live in. We need more than one friend and even, sometimes, if we are very lucky, more than one ‘bestie.’

I am not gonna lie and say I am perfect. I play here every once in a while and those people have respect and they KNOW that the ‘love’ that we have is based on a solid understanding of reality. I don’t stalk their pages to see what girls they like and, actually, I don’t chat that much with them either and they know I don’t cam and they respect the kind of person I am and I try to give that back and if I KNOW someone is married I step back.

But the last couple of years I hardly do that anymore either. Only once in several months. I am getting older and less interested in that stuff as anything more than ‘word games for the brain.’ A friend from a long time ago taught me this term, ‘mental masturbation.’ I didn’t do it with you either kid because I just couldn’t. I ‘lost it’ and did that with someone a little more mature. Someone who understands he and I are never going to be together and has no expectations of me and treats me like a good friend still.

It’s weird because being online is kind like interactive TV. You might really have a crush on someone and, in the old days, you got to stare at a movie or a poster and the only interaction was the one you had with yourself. Now you can go online and find ‘hotties’ with cams set up that do nothing all day but ‘interact’ and the chances of the one who is in love with that girl (and guys too these days!) will get that one for a life partner are about as probable as getting to marry Leonardo DiCaprio or Angelina Jolie.

It gets a little bit ridiculous but we can’t help ourselves even if we have self control. The world might see someone who never does anything wrong and that one might be carrying around ‘Justine’ in their head and you would never know it. That brings us back to what I started. It can never be, in the real world of real people, ‘either/or’. No matter HOW MUCH you want that big cookie all to yourself SOMEONE is gonna bite it while you aren’t looking. That is life.

That big cookie is love and everyone loves that big cookie and if you are gonna love people you are gonna be sharing that big cookie with the whole world and that big cookie might have sex in it but it really has nothing at all to do with sex and everything to do with basic human needs. The thing that makes people the most loved and envied is not how much of that cookie they can eat but whether or not they have the ability to ‘become the cookie.’

Jigri Friend…Habibi

No doubt

I enjoy your company

You are weird

You are like me

But our brand of strange

I don’t think it would last long term

We would end up like blasting caps

Under the gun

You can be my friend

My friend

I don’t care

How rich you ever get

I never married a man

For that reason yet

And I think

I don’t want to marry

Ever again.

The sex

Wasn’t even awesome

Not for either of us

I’m not chopping you

It is just

We’re both too different

To enjoy it

Like different species

Of alien

It would take a long long time

To get the pattern right

We won’t ever marry.

That said

You will make an awesome friend

You are smart like crazy

You are fun to be with

You are like nobody else

You called me sweetheart

Make the word

From my adopted culture

Be my jigri friend

Habibi.

Ends

Time went on
Little children

Playing in the dirt
Bright white grins
Were left behind
Old skins shed

Innocence lost
Trying

To hold on to a dream
You once saw

A moment
In a flower
Time goes on
Leaving behind

Youth
Strength and pride
Upraised chins
Defiance
Time keeps going
Work
Children
Bodies fail and age
Memories

Heavy as rocks
Try to hold on to Life
Time stops short
Ends

Within the Dream

Squeeze the wind from the tartan bags
Pluck the raindrops from the stringed harp
Blow away last year’s leaves with sharp exhales
Upon the flute play the bodhran boom
Vibrate the skies and fill the eyes
Until they make rivers
Fill the seas and dance on feet
World wandering wonder’s beheld
Never leaving the dream of dreams

I Love You Habibi

He sat in front of the computer feeling a little bit like an asshole and angry with her because she could not understand what she did to him. They had been soul friends for five years and he had shared things with her you can’t share even with your best friends or your parents. She was weird. She was loveable and comfortable until….

…he leaned back in the chair and thought about it. He had never wanted to know what she just told him, yes he had known, somewhere in his heart that it was true but it was never said and it could be avoided like not seeing the cockroaches at your aunt’s house. You love your aunt dearly and you hate the cockroaches. That was what she was like. She gave and gave and gave what little she had. She even helped the desperate men who had no where else better to go. He hated that. But those were cockroaches. She was amazing. She made him feel like he could conquer the world. She supported every dream he had and even once was his first customer. Sometimes she was even embarrassing like the retarded kid you don’t want to be seen with but he was tough enough for that until….

…he looked at the words on the screen in an odd mix of shock and knowledge. Somehow he had known it was coming and somehow he had wished it never was coming and…the words were there…accusatory…proof that what he believed was right and he had done wrong and yet…

Those words.

Suddenly he could not stand her anymore. Those words suddenly made her a joke. He hated that. He hated himself and he hated her for that too. What did he do to deserve this? This loss was as devastating as the death of a best friend. Now she was as uncomfortable as she had been comfortable all those years but, many times, he had known…

…there was the day he sent her the James Blunt song as an underhanded threat to tell her that she would be better off dead than to imply…but there were those words on the screen. Not only the words but the flood of the human heart. The fact that he was her hero. The best one. That huge amounts of her poetry were about him. That he was holy.

He hated that. He never wanted to be anyones hero. He just wanted to be….

He got up out of the computer chair and hit a wall. He felt like killing something. He felt like she had killed something special. You see he knew all about her too. He knew the reality that she would ever find true love was slim. He knew she was a lonely old lady stuck in childhood forever because she never was able to become a mother or grandmother and that all her life knowledge was the same a devdas would have and that…

He went back to the desk and looked at the words on the computer. He wished he could be a real asshole but his mother didn’t raise him that way. He wanted to kill her for being so lost. He knew some of his best friends had shared things with her from mutual lonliness…

…he winced.

The woman he had shared all these things with over the years, as if she was a jigri friend, and she blew it up with those words and he knew he was going to hurt her and there was no way to avoid it. He wanted to lay all the blame on her but he knew he could not it was his as well. That beautiful, amazing souled old jadu with the face he could barely look at…he could stare at her soul all day in facination but her face….

…butter face….

He laughed bitterly as he realized he was shallow, as shallow as the many who made a public joke of her. They did not know how much she loved them all but she said ‘I love you’ to everyone nearly…she loved everyone the way a mongoloid kid loves everyone…even the ones laughing at her and stabbing her in the back. She had no idea the flack he took for being so close to her and there were those words….

…he stared at the screen, numb, because he knew those words did not mean the same for him as they did everyone else. It would have even been better if she meant them with lust because then he could burn her to the ground with impunity…but those words were not lust they were real and he knew they were real: as real as Life itself is real.

He did not know if he wanted to scream or cry or beat someone up or…but there was nothing he could do she was a soul trapped in a box who had become as real as…and he had to leave the house with a straight face and feel nothing and act like nothing…he had already customized his posts so that she would not see, and be hurt, by the fact that she was not as important anymore as girls and life became more real to him than the witch-lady-in-the-box that had given him and taught him so very much. Deep inside he hated himself for what he was going to do and he hated her for making him do it….but those words….they were like a bomb that blew up his mental universe…he knew she would never be able to follow him into Life and he knew that many, like him, had done the same to her before and broken her heart over and over and over…and he was going to join their ranks.

He looked at the words again…

“I love you Habibi.”

And he said goodbye forever.

It Came: The Day I Couldn’t Pray Especially For You

It feels strange. This is a strange day.

It started on the day of the New Year when I became very ill. All alone I spent the night wondering if “This was it?” It wasn’t, Allhamdulillah, but I was not able to do much of anything, including eat, until early this morning when things seemed to settle a little bit. I realized I had not prayed especially for you. Indeed I had not been able to pray for anyone and all I had been able to do was beg for myself.

Today I went to your photo to pray for you to make up for all the prayers I had missed and put the cursor on your head and saw how many people were still a part of your world and barely a part of mine. They are not a part of my world the way you had been. I tried to pray for you…

…and couldn’t.

It became apparent that most all those, who had once been the closest to me, had moved on. Not just to real life but also AWAY from me.

I was fully prepared to be devastated and I wasn’t.

This was also weird.

I am thinking and I am thinking I am not angry at the traitor who tried to show me you can own people. That one owns no one. No one owns anyone it is impossible to put more than a body in a box. I was not sad that another seemed to care nothing at all that I was missing. It feels very strange. I thought that, once upon a time, that you would have missed me but I feel it very clearly that you don’t…

…and I am not hurt by that.

Not many recall the teachers who cried and prayed for their most special students only to find they would be gone forever one day. Life is not like a Buddhist Monastery. ┬áLife is more like a storm that moves across the badlands, quickly, dropping it’s payload of water, wind and electricity until it’s deep and threatening beauty is gone and you are standing there, in awe of what just passed KNOWING it will never pass the same way again.

The timing is strange.

Why this brush with forever on the New Year only to find you are a delightful and distant memory?

I will not have to woory, I think, about the time coming when my life might change again and maybe have something more it itself to present to me then the gifts in the box? People might be sad I am missing but surely they will also be happy I have better than a binary universe to inhabit. I know you would be happy for that Habibi.

Cinnamon, Devil and Habibi…

My Mind, my Heart, and my Soul…

Today I am smiling again. Love does not have to hurt because it is gone in the storm. The sun always comes out again and there will be other lovely storms. Still this storm was most…

…memorable.Did you ever imagine