Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Who gave me this remedy? What is it doing in my personal case? All those questions started to vanish while I was dozing in and out following the rhythmic turbine noise…eyes closed, deep black tunnel…eyes back open, navy blue upholstery from the back of the front seat…eyes closed, warm known feeling…eyes half open, blurry features of a familiar face…eyes closed…tight …wide shut…and gone.
Revolving doors inside my brain, messing with me… phantoms appearing then shading, pushing , grabbing and confusing , the already unbalanced, vulnerable me... sweating and screaming then a sudden shake – “ Miss, are you alright? Do you need some water? We are about to land”… and so I woke up, looking around: same aircraft, same passengers but a good couple of thousand miles away.
While gathering my personal belongings to get off the plain, my pill case fell so I reached down to get it. M, T,W,T,F,S,S letters all in blue over transparent plastic flip caps… multi-colored pills making the sound of a therapeutic maraca... I giggled… while staring at W… only to notice…the space…was not …empty… little white pill …was…still…there.
They say dreams are our sub conscience way to tell you something, a window to your fears, desires or pending stuff looking for closure. If dreams are messages, our brain is one tough, mercy-less messenger.
Truth is, we can’t deny our past. As dumb as it sounds, let’s face it: the past in fact, happened. You can’t just let go. As much as you try your memories to go away, they find their way to comeback, they are free, lingering in every detail … that’s the mistake: trying to “let go”. After much consideration, I truly believe we should do the opposite - the trick is to lock them, keep them in a safe place where only you (or at least the conscient you) are the master and key keeper, the real owner.
Memories and experiences made you what you are. Good, tough, bad or worse, they can’t disappear; they can’t be changed (as much as you try). But you can control them, keep them deep inside. Sort them by category then lock them, lock them hard. Allowing them to visit…but only when you want.
…Locked in: The past
Sunday, September 4, 2011
It has been more than two months since last time I posted in my blog or read yours. TWO MONTHS!! Amazing how time flies and takes toll where you least expect it. It is hard to start after such long absence, especially difficult to decide what to write and which story is the proper one for a good comeback, knowing that, must likely and with perfect sense, I’ve lost you all.
So, instead of starting with a random pick of my weird deep stories, life lesson, travel anecdote, or funny remark (but saving them for later), I’ve decided to start by explaining, as good as I can, the reasons behind my lack of commitment to write…but it is up to you to tell, which ones, if any, are real!
What could have happened in the life of a regular Josephine for the last two months? What in my world could be so overwhelming, powerful and reasonable enough to encourage the natural born procrastinator in me?
Stay tuned for more…
PART I – LOCKED IN THE PAST
PART II – THE GIRL WHO LOOKED FOR FACES
PART III – EDWINA MELTY HANDS
PART IV – A MACARON RAIN
PART V – UNDER THERE… UNDERWEAR?