Monkey Drive
Lord make me an instrument of your peace. I feel overwhelmed with sadness and gratitude for all the beautiful things in this world...in my world...grateful for all I have and ashamed of my longing, fearful that I will spend the rest of my life preparing for a trip. But, what trip is that?
The one to Costa Rica that awaits my birth certificate arriving in time, the one to Italy to see my beloved gods? Or the last one, where people gather in your rooms and wonder why you kept this.I spent the weekend in my room, sifting through precious bits of paper and plastic. None of it would mean anything to anyone but me; the little cardboard Monkey Drive firecracker I found in the UK parking lot. I sat it on the dashboard of my old Honda where it rolled back and forth, reminding me to slow down by flying into the seat when I took a corner to quickly. I finally took it inside the house, convinced that it would not help my image were I to be stopped by the police.
Sometimes I think I will go mad with longing, but it passes quickly. What surprises me is that the intensity increases. It seems like it should decrease as it does in other forms of addiction. I find myself wondering if this dalliance with desire will finish me off...leave me empty and deflated, never to rise again. I have symptoms of exhaustion and I'm isolating myself so that I can organize compulsively. As if being able to make sense of my paper closet will makeup for the confusion of how something that felt so beautiful to me could be so meaningless to him.
The one to Costa Rica that awaits my birth certificate arriving in time, the one to Italy to see my beloved gods? Or the last one, where people gather in your rooms and wonder why you kept this.I spent the weekend in my room, sifting through precious bits of paper and plastic. None of it would mean anything to anyone but me; the little cardboard Monkey Drive firecracker I found in the UK parking lot. I sat it on the dashboard of my old Honda where it rolled back and forth, reminding me to slow down by flying into the seat when I took a corner to quickly. I finally took it inside the house, convinced that it would not help my image were I to be stopped by the police.
Sometimes I think I will go mad with longing, but it passes quickly. What surprises me is that the intensity increases. It seems like it should decrease as it does in other forms of addiction. I find myself wondering if this dalliance with desire will finish me off...leave me empty and deflated, never to rise again. I have symptoms of exhaustion and I'm isolating myself so that I can organize compulsively. As if being able to make sense of my paper closet will makeup for the confusion of how something that felt so beautiful to me could be so meaningless to him.
posted by Saint DesRosier at 9:29 PM
5 Comments:
Dear Saint D,
Alcoholics do not make good partners and they certainly don't mend broken hearts.
You are too beautiful and too intelligent a woman to waste the rest of your life trying to solve another person's problems.
I love and miss you, Lefty
What a gift it is, this family of bloggers. (I don't like the word "blogger." Let's call it "online journaling".) I'm always impressed, when I read the online journal of someone I know in real life, how much there is that I'm not aware of - the pieces of that person that are hidden from my daily view. There are things I post on my journal that would never come up in daily conversation. It is easier to write a thing sometimes.
Let's all keep going, okay?
Peace to you all.
Lori-Lyn, Thank you for your encouragement. I read how many posts you have and I was amazed! I can see how this could become addictive.
Saint D and Lori-Lyn are gifted writers. I am maybe too rigid and too the point. But, I do say what I mean, though don't I? Saint D, we are trying to be encouraging too down here from Central America.... Encouraging you to get your fanny down here muy pronto.
Love,
Ancho and Lefty
Thank you Lefty for the high praise... it makes my heart (and head) swell. You do say what you mean (and mean what you say) which is one of the reasons I like you so much... the other one is that you love my son and as I mentioned on your blog, and will mention again on mine, I have never seen him look more serene than he does in that photo of the two of you on the beach...I didn't comment on your comment right away because it hurts to hear the truth... even when you know it's true. Also,it might not be clear, because I posted that letter to Dick and Jane in the middle of my blog, that I have neither seen nor heard from my alcoholic lover aka "the peregrine" for 6 weeks. And just because these things matter... I told him to stop calling and as per his recommendation, call- blocked him. I myself am ready to adopt one of my other personae, "Dolphina" and swim on down to La Playa en Costa Rica... sorry again about the pig spanish. PS I love it that you call me St. D....
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