THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

Circles ultimately lead you to a place where it all begins and where it all ends...they say that life is full of dajavu moments...moments when you realize that you've been there before...that you have experienced it before...that in the present there was a before and an after that was exactly the same...

Maybe life is just a finite circle that ends where it begins...but how many circles to we have along the way? Are our lives just the rings of the trunk of a tree... natural calculations that describe the journey of our lives...identical yet not so identical rings? abstract yet tangible manifestations? At the end of my life will i see these rings come full circle and finally make sense?

I arrived in Puerto Rico unconscious of the gravity of the decision.
Unaware that this vacation was not simply a convenience of time...but a very deliberate, preordained decision that fell right into the proper time line. This was no accident.

My first night back "home" if you like to call the place that holds your memories, home...and went straight to my memory box to refresh the mind and the heart of an experience that has been blurred by distance and time. The magnetic force of nostalgia draws me in with its gravitational pull and yet simultaneously repels me. Fighting off the longing to feel....reminding myself how much it hurts to feel...

But without much of a choice I open the diaries of the past and enter the realm of HIM. It's not that reading about him made me love him again and it didn't make me miss him...what saddened me was the tales of severed heart who thought she endured an abusive relationship but in fact at the end had died. He killed that girl. I felt like I could no longer identify with her. Who was she? Surely not me. It felt as if I was reading a story like any other...tragic Shakespearean love tales about lovers malady and vengeful horrors in the name of love...and I wanted so bad to understand how it all happened, how it all began and how she had blindly let it spiral out of control but I just couldn't understand. I read her stream of consciousness and all the pain that swelled in her heart...but it seemed so far away in time that it couldn't have been me....it wasn't me. Hadn't she survived at the end? Hadn't she survived the ills of heartbreak? Didn't I get over him and that awful relationship?

Some part of me died.
And I don't know if I'll ever be that girl from that tragic tale?
But who would want to be her anyway?

As I replayed the stories in my head, trying to calculate the time line of events it hit me.

My life had come full circle...

Here I was reading about the bloody murder to my heart just a year ago. And here I am in the same place where it all feel apart...at exactly the same time...

At the end of February of 2009 I took a trip to NY to see HIM for his birthday before I departed to PR...but I didn't see him...and after my vacation i again went to NY to see him on March 8 when i lost him. A cancerous fate...a pain so grave I lost my life to it...and upon reading her struggle did I realized my circle of life...A Lovers Life and Death...

but maybe...just maybe there is such thing as life after death....maybe I can be reborn.

Reincarnation....

My renaissance.

The reinvention of self.

Tell me, how did I get here?

Planner and pen in hand eager to get to the breakfast table monday morning.
After every weekend we took a poll.
I flipped to the end of my planner where a long written rubric tallied men by certain criteria.
Hoping that id have the highest points, making me ruthless and masculine, indifferent and a whore...and nothing made me happier.

In my youth I was ruthless.
I craved the scent of wounded boy.
Feeding off of their vulnerability.
I killed them all.
And those who dare to put up a fight...those stronger, more heartless than I...I would bow down to them with much earned respect. I loved them...those were the ones I'd die for....

Today though, I look into the mirror and I barely recognize myself.
Who is this imposter?
This hurt soul?
When did I come to care so much?
When did the tin woman get her heart?

It seems that today I no longer search for love...not even amidst drunken stupor do I call to HIM or him or them. I have completely shut down. The thought of a man actually repulses me, of him in the flesh sweating and panting and heaving over me...the thought of all his lies and all the hurt and everything that follows when you dare to love man. I can't anymore.

Im sure it has something to do with pure exhaustion from trying. It has to be HIM he spoiled me...I am ruined.

Will I ever allow someone in?
Or will I be a cynical lonely woman for the rest of my life?

What do you believe in when you've lost faith in love?

Where do I go from here?

"If you build it, they will come"

My field of dreams has become a desert, a barren wasteland, that no one will cross.
It burns with passion, engulfed in flames...but no one will come put the fire out.
In my field of dreams I wait in utter despair hoping that he will come.

"If you build it, they will come"

It is only when I accept the dry ash my fruitless garden has become; only when I close up the access, each orphice of my body; only when I build the dam to they flock to me.

The last few days I needed someone. Anyone. I was lonely, really there is no other way to put it. The last days I have been clinging to anyone who would have my company. But today....today I woke up without a care for the male species. He, is...they are....IRRELEVANT. And due to my lack of admiration or disdain for the male species and my pure and sincere indifference resulted in every man including HIM to flock to my woman breast for feed.

Nay.

When they come.

I no longer welcome them.

Why is it that only when you close yourself off from the world. When you dam up the emotions and block your heart. Why is that when I no longer feel...they come?

For once id like to be open and let my emotions flood out, bathe them in my hopes and fears and all my love without drowning them.

AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE

Have you ever found the perfect guy but couldn't like him even if your life depended on it?

"I really should like him." You keep telling yourself.
"he's such a nice guy." You justify it.
"Hell do so much for me" you convince yourself.

But the heart cannot doth do, what the mind doth tells it to"

In other words...quit trying to arrange a marriage out of convenience, out of functionality and sheer desperation.

Love is random. Sporadic. And when you least expect it. Your mind will go numb and the heart will take over. That's love. All rationale out the window....

Vanilla sky

"Open your eyes"
"Open your eyes"

I dream so often, I have trouble deciphering dreams from reality.
My dreams are extensions of reality, engineered to be more gratifying.
But even amongst vanilla skies and sunsets and bliss, the subconscious has a way of resurfacing the nightmares of your reality.
In my dreams...
I die.
My heart dies.
And even when I wake, I can't bring it back to life...

I wish that I could exist in a fabricated world where my dreams are reality and id never have to awaken to the nightmares of true existence.

In my world I can fly without consequences.
I reincarnate into a bird, soaring above reach, free...intangeable. Abstract. Im a bird. And I cry melancholic raindrops that drown the people below. A storm of sorrow. A tsunami of emotion. An earthquake of revenge. A fire of rage. I am natural chaos.

And I just want to be tamed.

But I keep flying away.

Wake up.

"Open your eyes"
"Open your eyes"

Lying in bed lying

Usually when I lie in bed I lie to myself.
Mostly in a trance trying to convince myself that things are going to be okay.
But they usually never are.
But every night this is my ritual, because lying is the only way to avoid a nervous breakdown.
I want to breakdown, to fall to a place where ill never be found again.
But every morning im found.

My mind becomes the lost and found bin, where vintage treasures and memorabilia and trash is stored hoping that one day the mosaic of leftover, the collage of waste might mean something more. That among the ambiguity and doubts there are answers. Finite answers. But I've only found questions.

New Year: WHEN DID UGLY BECOME THE NEW SEXY?

He's ugly.
yes, yes, he is just ugly.
I mean, he's not a monster or anything....but he has not one attractive feature on his face.
I mean...
He probably could pass for some kind of animal...
Yes he had to be a monkey in his former life....yes....evolution failed him, stopped a stage too short and Darwin totally fucked him over.

Then why do you want him so bad?

Because his primitive looks makes me hot. This caveman rubbed his stick together and ignited a fire!

Is it sick that the fact that he is so unattractive is what draws me to him?

Ugly is the new sexy. I am now sure of this. And what better way to bring in the new year with a sexy contradiction?
***
I've been thinking about my caveman all day and the thought of his ugly ass makes me so excited I can barely contain myself.

I think what makes him so irresistible is that it is no surprise that he is unattractive, I'm sure he knows this, but he is so confident and charismatic and fun. This inner sex appeal seeps through his pores and intoxicates you. I can't stop thinking about him.

And why does this all matter?

Ugly being the new sexy makes me wonder what this means for the new year?

Last night for one moment, just ONE very BRIEF moment, I thought about HIM. The fact that HIM and HER met on that very same day a year ago and that they were probably celebrating their one year anniversary and that maybe as I brought in the new year with family and friends and my love for alcohol and fashion...he was spending it completely submersed in his love for HER. for only a second the thought saddened me. I caught myself glaring out to the disco lights and the mass of people enjoying themselves on the dance floor. It all seemed so insignificant.

I thought how if maybe I would have picked up that phone call at 12am Jan 1 2009 he would probably still be mine. The responsibility and alcohol weighed heavily on my eyelids, tears pooling and wanting so badly to make their way to the surface but I wouldn't bring the new year in such dramatic despair. Imagine, waterworks in the middle of a club? That is just too manic, even for me.

So instead i took another cup of Henney to the face and plastered a pseudo-grin to my face and before I realized, it was real...and there was laughter and joy. Not even Bachata could trigger nostalgia anymore. Sometimes....sometimes...alcohol numbs the pain...and when it doesn't, it makes you hysterical.

Lucky, no hysteria.

This is my year and I can't allow HIM and nostalgia and the thoughts of what were and what are and what could of been but never really would have been hinder my life. It is impossible to erase...but try...

TRY.

So I grabbed my caveman and danced the night away and before I realized what was going on there was a chemistry I hadn't felt in a really long time. For the first time I was STARLIGHT without HIM. and now I am certain that I was STARLIGHT because of ME, not because of HIM.

so this year I am going to be STARLIGHT AND STARDUST and glitter the world with my talents.

"DON'T CALL ME EVY. YOU'VE NEVER SEEN ONE LIKE THIS BEFORE"