j'aime

. annoyingly righteous
. passionate
. incredibly kind
. giving (sometimes too much)
. full of fantastically loud laughter
. a nervous wreck (at times)
. confidently sexual (but picky as hell)
. compassionate yet mistrusting
. loving
. analytical (fuck)
. very forgiving (and learning to forgive myself)
. emotional and visual
. naturally affectionate
. charming but at times too quiet
. in love with charlie (the cat, of course)
. selfish
. a stormy peacemaker
. immature, yet wise
. (un)comfortably alive
. wishes love on everyone
. desires deep connections (i tend to discard anything superficial)
. flexible but spoiled
. intensely loyal
. fears rejection
. powerful
. committed (and at times indecisive)
. super laid back about most things, yet uptight and tense about others.
. very grateful
. thrifty
. worldly
. spiritual
. minimalistic
. socially independent
. trying to be more reliable
. is
. has strange body image issues
. terribly sincere
. insecure yet strong
. stupidly vain
. jealous (and don't want to be)
. optimistic
. open
. (fill in the blank)
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blue

this morning, after getting gabriel onto the bus
i decided to wait on coffee and welcome the bed a bit longer.
i've been feeling this intense internal struggle for the past few weeks
(the winters often do this to me, but this is a very different kind of conflict)
its been reflecting in my life in very odd and uncomfortable ways.
a lot of the discomfort is this knowing i am not where i belong.
of course, i accept this space as being part of the process in getting to where i'd like to be
or know to be, but this isn't home for me. not even close.

i suppose its like a vacation, and my flight home keeps getting delayed.
it's something like that, anyway.

so, i placed my head back onto my pillow and closed my eyes.
still, sleep did not pervade. rather insights began to stir and surface.

i saw all of this wonderful greenery.
i was wearing a sarong.
my feet were bare.
and the sun was so strong, yet forgiving and delicate.
there were all of these soft eyes, connected to all of these compassionate humans.
and there was this one, very elderly woman with blue eyes.
not the kind of blue you are born with, but rather the kind of blue you die with.
those muted glass encasements containing a life that welcomes its transition.
her skin was wrinkled so beautifully it looked almost shaped and casted.
she spoke of nothing, but her eyes invaded me willingly.
and in her gaze i saw a message.
i'm still trying to piece the ends of her silent proverb:

but she asked for me to let go of my thought entirely,
abandon what i've been given.
to set all of it down.
that it no longer serves me in this new form.
yet, remain open. to think less and listen more.

but more importantly, that i am currently where i'm supposed to be.
that life, for the most part, is a continuous process of getting used to things we had not expected.

a few jaime secrets.

1. i go to the movies by myself. and often.
i want to say that i prefer it that way, but i don't think that's really the case.
i think i tell myself that to alleviate the desire for companionship.
and it actually works.

2. someone recently told me that they had never been in love.
and that he was proud of this self inflicted fate.
i secretly wished i knew what that felt like.

3. the one man i love presently: i refuse to put his number into my phone.
i've known his number by heart for years, but i never make him an official contact.
god, believe me. i know how ridiculous that sounds.
but i figure, if he disappears i can somehow rationalize it by telling myself he never really existed in the first place.
of course this wouldn't work. and i know it wouldn't work. but i still won't add him. i can thank my father for that.

4. i cry a lot. i mean, i don't walk around sulking. it's not that i'm an unhappy person.
i just love the feeling of crying. that release. i think it keeps me young.
sometimes i'll stand in the shower and simply cry.
it's like a mini internal grenade.
you can hold the trigger as long as you want, but it's always there.
you can try to deny it. maybe even cover it up.

i'd rather pull its pin.

5. i always wanted a big family.
i came from a large family. i'm the only girl of 4 children.
unfortunately, i don't think it's in the cards for me.
in fact, many of my idealized visions are transforming and re solidifying into something altogether new.
and there is something very exciting about that.

(to be continued).

a beginning.

i've decided i'm going to start writing again
in hopes of making a clearer picture
of all the connections i run into daily
but, often fail at following through on their lineage.

this will help, i think.

for years now, i've felt as if i've been trudging through the desert.
sure, the desert is quite beautiful, but it can be rather lonely.
don't get me wrong:
i come upon these sweet butterflies.
they often choose my shoulders to land.
but more often then not, they are simply mirages
and as soon as the sun takes to its falling, they disappear.
thirst quenchers, i suppose.

on occasion i come across messages written in the sand.
reminding me that something awaits as soon as i reach the crossing.
so, i keep on walking.

i'm 33 now.
soon to be 34.
i have this gorgeous beam of light of a boy
who came to me here.
in fact, it's why i stay and continue the trek.
sure, an airplane may be the easiest form of travel out
but i'd miss out on all of these stones that remind me of my planet.

"visualize, jaime."
that's what sally says.
"visualize. your thoughts will form before you."

so, that is what i'll be doing in here.
in this space called blog.
i'll share with you what i see.
where i am.

you are welcome to follow.

red

you stood before me
like a gorgeous stone
waiting to be rubbed
or gently tucked away in the depths
of my jeans

it is so:
yes
i do manage to collect these sorts of things

and i asked the sky
oh so quickly
if this were our turn
for what waves seem to do
and she replied with the incoming tied

my grip no longer anchored
i sank within your sand
and felt you climb into my cave
oh so easily

it's beautiful, no? i thought
a place for you, no?

with eyes closed
you answered

it's the red ones i keep
i adorn my entrance with them
: hadn't you noticed when you arrived?

and so with each stone
i collect in your memory
i pray for our grains

that we will continue to
come
and rush

to our shore

so, here it comes.
what you've been patiently waiting on.
the returning arrival from your pocketless good-bye.



"but, where are your eyes?" i wonder.
"where have they gone?"

"they were never there, you see," was his reply.
"you real-eyes what i hide from the others."



and, it was then.
i understood.

you hold onto your lie
like the lolli-pop handed over
after your teeth have been cleaned
by the hands of another

and i'm left with your floss
that remains within my mirror
to reach within my own
only realizing you never really were
anyway

so in the betweens
i find pieces of you
that i failed to chew
and spit with a fire like
a supermarine

to continue flying as i have
before you sat in the cock pit
holding onto your stick
like it was charmed and golden

but

eyes were our stones
that kept us still
legs our locks
and lips, the secret treasure

but upon its broken seal
came fabricated bubbles
popping like bombs
landing on foreign land

whose language

created unspoken barriers

replaced by your gorgeous teeth





god
will you forgive me
for this self inflicted gaze?
god







so many mouths
so many sugar cubes
but so little honey

oh
sweet
the
decay

our decay