By Rei Tanotsuka, 17 September 2020
“I dream with open eyes,” he answered, looking around at the door, “and others see my dreams. That is all.” A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay.
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The persistent itch on my right elbow that has followed me for a week, allows me the pleasure of a scratch, and in that moment I am reminded of the sweetness in the peas I’m eating, and marvel at the fragrant bouquet of mandarin rind that has perfumed my tea.
I woke up this morning and admired my legs. Looking svelte after a good night’s rest, ankle and knee indentation gives the silhouette of a used gym membership…. no one else shares the beauty of this point in my youth, and the vision will become a subset in my melange of memories in recalling who I used to be one day…
A daily ritual of mnemonics to remind myself of a being who used to reside in me, juxtaposes itself to the being I am now… unlike Bruce, I know I’m gone.
I am more than Zhuangzi’s dreaming butterfly and his contemplation thereafter. I am the psychoanalyst pondering the validity of Zhuangzi’s dream and the futility of self examination – after all what is the point of reflection when the mirror itself is the illusion?
So as I sit in an Italian themed Japanese Cafe, and spit out yet another insipid “poem” in a vain attempt to jettison my melancholy, I hereby tell you that contrary to what I have just written, I am still blessed.
I am blessed to have been married, and continue to be so for a decade even though I have only had a husband for 5. I am happy that one day when my body parallels the state of my mind, he will give me a burial which will inspire envy in Mumtaz Mahal, and on my epitaph will be inscribed a message filled with a tsunami of bitter-sweet emotions that he conceals in his present stoic demeanour.
“She was a BITCH”, it would say “but she never bit me, in fact she protected me until I felt safe enough to walk alone and insisted on no leashes in a relationship traditionally marked with restraints….I trusted her with the house because she never shat on the rug or relieved herself in the TV corner, I gave her the keys to my home and to my heart because I knew she would never leave, not because she didn’t know how to, but because she did not want to.”
Hope his new pet pisses on the bed sheets….
As Catice said to Spadevil as they vied for supremacy in Sant:
“If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. If you wish to say what is, a few words will be enough.”
Thanks for the recommendation btw. I haven’t finished reading as yet but it really is interesting. The part I quoted hit me on so many levels.