đêm nay tiễn em đi
sao buồn thấy tái tê
bao giờ gặp lại đây
nầy em hỡi, em ơi
em có thấy đê mê
phút giây ta gần nhau
những cảm giác nhiệm mầu
thời gian đi qua mau
cái già đã đến nơi
cái chết chờ ngoài khơi
dè dặt mà làm chi
hãy nói yêu anh đi
hãy thì thầm đã mơ
về anh lúc ban sơ.
wissai
November 22, 2022
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Peachy Situation
Peachy Situation
"It's quite a peachy situation we find ourselves in, don't you think?"
That was what Tannin told you after you made love to her for a second time within forty-five minutes. What you just did was not an earth-shattering record, but a very good accomplishment for a man of your age (63) and hers (72). Although her body did show signs of her age, her appetite for sex was like that of an eighteen-year-old. She needed no vaseline. And she came quickly and in quick succession and noisily. She made you feel good about myself. Already, she told you she loved you more than all the men who had arrived before you in her life. And she had had plenty, after two marriages and numerous liaisons. She also said that the "fault" was entirely hers. She should have trusted her instinct better and made the first move sooner. She was flattered that you did notice that she was interested in you. You had met her eight months prior on a tour bus of the western states of America. You were traveling with your on-again, off-again, strong-willed, spouse. Tannin's traveling companion was a fellow widow, Mouseata. Your spouse and Mouseata went to the same high school back when they were in Costa Rica prior to their emigrating to America. The four of us were visiting California, Nevada, Utah, Idaho, South Dakota, Wyoming, and Colorado by bus, run by a Chinese tour company. The price was quite cheap, $497 for 7 days including night motel accommodation and breakfasts.
Tannin was a widowed retired dentist. Her deceased spouse was also a dentist. She had four sons and they were all oral surgeons. Needless to say, Tannin was loaded with money and she was kind and generous with her friends. You, on the contrary, was tight with your money, a consequence of childhood poverty and a victim of financial swindles by your first wife. Tannin was friendly with your spouse but kept asking you all kinds of probing personal questions whenever she was out of the earshot of your spouse. She also let you know she was very impressed with your looks and physique, fair command of several (5) languages, general knowledge, and basic decency. Tannin didn't look bad for her age. She kept her figure well from her daily exercise in the pool and on the treadmill. She had an easy laugh and agile mind. You liked her company. She was accommodating and easy-going. Compared to your insolent spouse (your two unmarried daughters would fall to pieces if you ever divorce), Tannin was a breath of fresh air. You certainly didn't insinuate that you didn't have any money. You used to be quite wealthy myself until you I lost most of it in the stock market in 1999 and 2007. However, you still have some (mid six figures) left in 401 K accounts and $100,000 in cash. The monthly annuity payment for pension and the social security payments more than take care of your daily needs. In addition, you work part-time for a consultation company, which nets you around $2,000-2,500 a month. You are not as rich as your spouse or Tannin, but you are not poor and thus have to watch your pennies. But you do watch pennies. Habits die hard. Tannin knows about your frame of mind and accepts that.
By the time the bus trip ended and you had to get off at Las Vegas while your spouse, her friend, and Tannin moved on to Los Angeles to catch a flight back to Houston, you sensed that Tannin was pretty much taken by you and she herself was often on your mind, but you were outwardly cool and uninterested. You were a proud man. And 72 was a big number to overcome. You didn't know if she still liked sex or not and how much she liked you. You kept your feelings under wraps and hid your affection for her in camouflaged poetry and late night reveries.
Three months ago you jumped in with both feet when your spouse asked you that if you would like to join her on a South Pacific cruise. You always wanted to see for yourself Hawaii, Samoa, Fij, and the Caledonian Islands after reading so much about them in geography books. Nobody told you that Tannin would also be on the cruise until she showed up at the airport for the flight to Rome. And a "miracle" happened: Mouseata backed out at the last minute due to family obligation. So Tannin had a cabin all by herself albeit with a slight increase in rate. You took Mouseata's absence as a sign, a good omen for things to come between Tangerine and you. ". Anyway, you were lonely despite being married.Twice (twelve and six years ago) you thought you got rid of loneliness for good, but you were wrong. Since then several women played you for a fool and you went along until they discovered you were not as stupid and naive as you let on. They moved on to other targets and you moved on with your life with books, writing, and poker-playing to occupy your time when you are not called to do consultancy work with lonely and disturbed individuals. You are quite good in the consultancy business. It takes one to know one. You would venture to say a majority, if not a big majority, of people in your profession are quite unhinged themselves.
There was an instant attraction and chemistry between Tannin and you when you two first met eight months ago. She understood what you tried to say, which was not as easy as common folks assumed. And you were tremendously touched by her caring ways and her unspoken loneliness. On this cruise she spent most of her time with your spouse (okay, her name was Daevela), at meal times (you only joined them at dinner), and daily activities and nightly shows. You spent your time reading, sleeping, working out at the gym, and playing poker until the wee hours of the morning.The cruise lasted for eleven days. Things happened on the 9th night. You were playing poker as usual when somebody touched you on the shoulder. You turned around and saw Tannin smiling tenderly at you. She then asked you of how you were doing. You sighed and replied that you were a bit over $200 in the hole. She looked upset and emphatically said that you must quit now and join her for a walk on the deck. The way her eyes looked at you told you that you should not turn down her request.
It was a beautiful night. The full moon was in the sky. The South Pacific sea was calm. There was hardly a breeze. A lot of people were milling around on the deck, some of them were walking and talking, like Tannin and you were doing. She asked you a lot of questions, especially about the relationship with Daevela. You told her the truth, unadorned and unembellished. When you were through, she took your hand into hers and said, "my poor baby. You deserve better." You said nothing to that remark and didn't withdraw your hand. Then she huskily asked you if you liked her. You nodded your head and said, "from the very first beginning we first met." She then pulled you close to her and planted a kiss on my lips and wordlessly embraced you and then led me to the elevator and to her cabin. We were like two teenagers overcome with lust. She tremblingly inserted the cabin card into the door slot while holding tightly to your hand. You two barely got inside the cabin when you locked lips and touched each other hungrily.
Although her body showed the ravages of time, she made up for it by her sexual ardor and effusive praise of the magnificence of your body which you kept in a youthful shape by almost daily Yoga and strength exercises. She made you feel so wanted that you had no problem achieving the desired state of hardness in no time. When you were in her, she kept her legs intertwined on your back and kept saying your name overlaid with terms of endearment. Soon you were no longer affected by the age discrepancy and now saw love had transformed her into a beautiful mature woman. And when she urged you to quicken your tempo because she was on the verge of reaching the pinnacle of pleasure, you let yourself go and you called her name over and over again and finished it up by pressing your pelvic region hard against hers.
Satisfied and contented, she stroked your face and massaged the nape of your neck, in the aftermath of the unforgettable sexual encounter. You soon passed out in heavenly peace. You woke up when you found myself hard again by her skillful lingual maneuvering. The second time you two were at it was less intense and more leisurely but much stronger in terms of tenderness and peace. Both sensed that what each had for each other was more than carnal lust and physical desire. The feeling was an old-fashioned love and caring. That was when she asked you what you would do about the future because she now realized she wanted to be with you at all times for she had found peace.
You told her the divorce was out of the question. There were complications, most were posed by your daughters and your unwillingness to bring embarrassment and humiliation to Daevela. You further explained to her that you must remain in Las Vegas for at least ten more years to see how you would fare with the consultancy business and the poker avocation. You then concluded that as much as you disliked the furtiveness of the situation, it must remain so until Daevela dies. Life is never perfect and is not designed to please us. We must adapt and endure. She could always fly to Las Vegas and be with you as long as she wished and as long as we kept our relationship a secret from Daevela. Tannin said nothing and tears flooded her eyes. She then said you needed to get dressed and go back to your cabin before Daevela came looking for you.
After you kissed her and were about to leave she asked me if you really loved her. You stepped towards her and held her in my arms and looked into her eyes and said softly that she was the one you had always wanted in your life and you had thought you would never realize your dream. You had always longed for an unselfish, unpretentious, intelligent woman who understood, respected, and cared about you. You were arrogant and conceited, but you were fair-minded and loyal. You told her that she took a big risk in loving you and time would tell her if her love for you and yours for her was real and not a flash in the pan. True love always has a way to manifest itself. What has held it back are selfishness, ego, greed, power, and fear. Of these, you are only aflicted with ego which could be intimately tied with a carry-over of feelings of inferiority complex in the past, but ever since you realize you am gifted at logic, philosophy, and words, the ego is very probably soundly based and not an overcompensation from the distant past. If she could handle your ego, she had nothing to be concerned about your feelings for her. She said nothing to your speech. And once again her eyes welled up with tears. She just raised her feet and kissed you on the cheeks and gently pushed you out of the cabin and into the lonely night.
Wissai
Noviember 21, 2012
"It's quite a peachy situation we find ourselves in, don't you think?"
That was what Tannin told you after you made love to her for a second time within forty-five minutes. What you just did was not an earth-shattering record, but a very good accomplishment for a man of your age (63) and hers (72). Although her body did show signs of her age, her appetite for sex was like that of an eighteen-year-old. She needed no vaseline. And she came quickly and in quick succession and noisily. She made you feel good about myself. Already, she told you she loved you more than all the men who had arrived before you in her life. And she had had plenty, after two marriages and numerous liaisons. She also said that the "fault" was entirely hers. She should have trusted her instinct better and made the first move sooner. She was flattered that you did notice that she was interested in you. You had met her eight months prior on a tour bus of the western states of America. You were traveling with your on-again, off-again, strong-willed, spouse. Tannin's traveling companion was a fellow widow, Mouseata. Your spouse and Mouseata went to the same high school back when they were in Costa Rica prior to their emigrating to America. The four of us were visiting California, Nevada, Utah, Idaho, South Dakota, Wyoming, and Colorado by bus, run by a Chinese tour company. The price was quite cheap, $497 for 7 days including night motel accommodation and breakfasts.
Tannin was a widowed retired dentist. Her deceased spouse was also a dentist. She had four sons and they were all oral surgeons. Needless to say, Tannin was loaded with money and she was kind and generous with her friends. You, on the contrary, was tight with your money, a consequence of childhood poverty and a victim of financial swindles by your first wife. Tannin was friendly with your spouse but kept asking you all kinds of probing personal questions whenever she was out of the earshot of your spouse. She also let you know she was very impressed with your looks and physique, fair command of several (5) languages, general knowledge, and basic decency. Tannin didn't look bad for her age. She kept her figure well from her daily exercise in the pool and on the treadmill. She had an easy laugh and agile mind. You liked her company. She was accommodating and easy-going. Compared to your insolent spouse (your two unmarried daughters would fall to pieces if you ever divorce), Tannin was a breath of fresh air. You certainly didn't insinuate that you didn't have any money. You used to be quite wealthy myself until you I lost most of it in the stock market in 1999 and 2007. However, you still have some (mid six figures) left in 401 K accounts and $100,000 in cash. The monthly annuity payment for pension and the social security payments more than take care of your daily needs. In addition, you work part-time for a consultation company, which nets you around $2,000-2,500 a month. You are not as rich as your spouse or Tannin, but you are not poor and thus have to watch your pennies. But you do watch pennies. Habits die hard. Tannin knows about your frame of mind and accepts that.
By the time the bus trip ended and you had to get off at Las Vegas while your spouse, her friend, and Tannin moved on to Los Angeles to catch a flight back to Houston, you sensed that Tannin was pretty much taken by you and she herself was often on your mind, but you were outwardly cool and uninterested. You were a proud man. And 72 was a big number to overcome. You didn't know if she still liked sex or not and how much she liked you. You kept your feelings under wraps and hid your affection for her in camouflaged poetry and late night reveries.
Three months ago you jumped in with both feet when your spouse asked you that if you would like to join her on a South Pacific cruise. You always wanted to see for yourself Hawaii, Samoa, Fij, and the Caledonian Islands after reading so much about them in geography books. Nobody told you that Tannin would also be on the cruise until she showed up at the airport for the flight to Rome. And a "miracle" happened: Mouseata backed out at the last minute due to family obligation. So Tannin had a cabin all by herself albeit with a slight increase in rate. You took Mouseata's absence as a sign, a good omen for things to come between Tangerine and you. ". Anyway, you were lonely despite being married.Twice (twelve and six years ago) you thought you got rid of loneliness for good, but you were wrong. Since then several women played you for a fool and you went along until they discovered you were not as stupid and naive as you let on. They moved on to other targets and you moved on with your life with books, writing, and poker-playing to occupy your time when you are not called to do consultancy work with lonely and disturbed individuals. You are quite good in the consultancy business. It takes one to know one. You would venture to say a majority, if not a big majority, of people in your profession are quite unhinged themselves.
There was an instant attraction and chemistry between Tannin and you when you two first met eight months ago. She understood what you tried to say, which was not as easy as common folks assumed. And you were tremendously touched by her caring ways and her unspoken loneliness. On this cruise she spent most of her time with your spouse (okay, her name was Daevela), at meal times (you only joined them at dinner), and daily activities and nightly shows. You spent your time reading, sleeping, working out at the gym, and playing poker until the wee hours of the morning.The cruise lasted for eleven days. Things happened on the 9th night. You were playing poker as usual when somebody touched you on the shoulder. You turned around and saw Tannin smiling tenderly at you. She then asked you of how you were doing. You sighed and replied that you were a bit over $200 in the hole. She looked upset and emphatically said that you must quit now and join her for a walk on the deck. The way her eyes looked at you told you that you should not turn down her request.
It was a beautiful night. The full moon was in the sky. The South Pacific sea was calm. There was hardly a breeze. A lot of people were milling around on the deck, some of them were walking and talking, like Tannin and you were doing. She asked you a lot of questions, especially about the relationship with Daevela. You told her the truth, unadorned and unembellished. When you were through, she took your hand into hers and said, "my poor baby. You deserve better." You said nothing to that remark and didn't withdraw your hand. Then she huskily asked you if you liked her. You nodded your head and said, "from the very first beginning we first met." She then pulled you close to her and planted a kiss on my lips and wordlessly embraced you and then led me to the elevator and to her cabin. We were like two teenagers overcome with lust. She tremblingly inserted the cabin card into the door slot while holding tightly to your hand. You two barely got inside the cabin when you locked lips and touched each other hungrily.
Although her body showed the ravages of time, she made up for it by her sexual ardor and effusive praise of the magnificence of your body which you kept in a youthful shape by almost daily Yoga and strength exercises. She made you feel so wanted that you had no problem achieving the desired state of hardness in no time. When you were in her, she kept her legs intertwined on your back and kept saying your name overlaid with terms of endearment. Soon you were no longer affected by the age discrepancy and now saw love had transformed her into a beautiful mature woman. And when she urged you to quicken your tempo because she was on the verge of reaching the pinnacle of pleasure, you let yourself go and you called her name over and over again and finished it up by pressing your pelvic region hard against hers.
Satisfied and contented, she stroked your face and massaged the nape of your neck, in the aftermath of the unforgettable sexual encounter. You soon passed out in heavenly peace. You woke up when you found myself hard again by her skillful lingual maneuvering. The second time you two were at it was less intense and more leisurely but much stronger in terms of tenderness and peace. Both sensed that what each had for each other was more than carnal lust and physical desire. The feeling was an old-fashioned love and caring. That was when she asked you what you would do about the future because she now realized she wanted to be with you at all times for she had found peace.
You told her the divorce was out of the question. There were complications, most were posed by your daughters and your unwillingness to bring embarrassment and humiliation to Daevela. You further explained to her that you must remain in Las Vegas for at least ten more years to see how you would fare with the consultancy business and the poker avocation. You then concluded that as much as you disliked the furtiveness of the situation, it must remain so until Daevela dies. Life is never perfect and is not designed to please us. We must adapt and endure. She could always fly to Las Vegas and be with you as long as she wished and as long as we kept our relationship a secret from Daevela. Tannin said nothing and tears flooded her eyes. She then said you needed to get dressed and go back to your cabin before Daevela came looking for you.
After you kissed her and were about to leave she asked me if you really loved her. You stepped towards her and held her in my arms and looked into her eyes and said softly that she was the one you had always wanted in your life and you had thought you would never realize your dream. You had always longed for an unselfish, unpretentious, intelligent woman who understood, respected, and cared about you. You were arrogant and conceited, but you were fair-minded and loyal. You told her that she took a big risk in loving you and time would tell her if her love for you and yours for her was real and not a flash in the pan. True love always has a way to manifest itself. What has held it back are selfishness, ego, greed, power, and fear. Of these, you are only aflicted with ego which could be intimately tied with a carry-over of feelings of inferiority complex in the past, but ever since you realize you am gifted at logic, philosophy, and words, the ego is very probably soundly based and not an overcompensation from the distant past. If she could handle your ego, she had nothing to be concerned about your feelings for her. She said nothing to your speech. And once again her eyes welled up with tears. She just raised her feet and kissed you on the cheeks and gently pushed you out of the cabin and into the lonely night.
Wissai
Noviember 21, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Obama won the re-election
I was happy that he won. Love was stronger than hate. Starting three weeks before the election day, the Internet was flooded with false, ugly, malicious rumors and lies disseminated by the Republicans who were desperate for a win. What bothered me greatly was there were many Vietnamese Americans who practiced suspension of disbelief and thus gleefully and gladly contributed to the dissemination of the innuendoes and lies. Their behavior was so despicable and loathsome that I was ashamed for them and for myself for being Vietnamese. In any contest, we must be honorable in our conduct. A victory without honor is not worth having.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Peace
My heart cried for peace, but my mind was stuck deep in turmoil. I've meditated on the outright lies disseminated by the Vietnamese Republicans about Obama and I felt a deep disgust at how low my compatriots have sunk. I was glad that I had an instinctive respect for truth. That noble trait is not shared by assholes like you-know-who, hence my contempt for them. Those two are real animals which love to use filthy and sarcastic language to score a point when they can't win an argument in a debate. how could they since they were poorly read and poorly educated. I regard them as ignorant assholes, unworthy of being in my company.
Cessation of suffering
Cessation of Suffering
"You think you're a deep-sea diver while in fact you're drowning. Don't pretend you care little for anything in this world whereas you're a burning churning throb of desire and yearning. Please, make your outer appearances reflect inner realities, otherwise you create nothing but suffering for yourself. Stop playing games with yourself and others. Be authentic."
That was what I told my protégé last week at the hospital when I thought I was going to croak and die of some mysterious flu-like illness. But I somehow recovered. Shit, I'm only sixty-three after all. I'm too mean to die young. I'm gonna live until the ripe old age of ninety-nine. I'm gonna be a mean, crusty old man when I finally kick the bucket. The doctor who was young enough to be my grand-son told me this morning that the worst was over and I could be released in two days.
When I told my protégé over the phone this morning that I was coming home on my own power, and not in a body bag or in a coffin, he shouted with joy. I was not sure if he really meant it. I suppose I'm gonna put him through a test soon.
I'm not sleeping much anymore or they stop putting in the IV the sleep medicine, I don't know which. I know I'm more alert. This morning I took a short walk to the cafeteria and back just to get my circulation working again. I saw the faces of people on the way to the cafeteria and back and inside the cafeteria itself. It seemed to me that everybody had a look of attrition on them. They all looked tired, worried, and preoccupied. The élan, the zest for life was missing. It was funny, to me, they looked that way. They were not as close to death as I was. And here I am feeling overjoyed and bursting with an irrepressible feeling of relief and happiness that I am going to live a few more years. For years, I have been flirting with suicide and filled with homocidal impulses. No more. No sir. No más danzar con la locura. And it seems to me this weight of suffering that I've carried on my shoulders and in my heart since late adolescence miraculously vanished into thin air. I'm feeling light-headed, giddy, buoyant, happy, and carefree. The feeling is better than sex, more intoxicating than booze and pot, and even more intense than falling in love. I suppose I'm savoring the sensation of being granted the reprieve from the definite, unalterable cessation of life, of being cut off from feeling and thinking and other senses of being alive. For the first time since childhood and early adolescence, I have regained the joys of living. To live is to experience choices whereas to die is to be forever shut off in darkness and oblivion.
If I'm sounding like I'm preaching, hell, so what? We're all preachers and lecturers in one way or another. The best preachers are those who only preach to themselves, and not to others, even when they appear to preach to others, they do in fact preach to themselves. To live is to confront one's loneliness and sense of insecurity and precariousness. One thing I know for sure is that I'm no longer fucked, fried, and lied to like so many slaves I see walking like zombies into offices and plants every morning to earn a living wage. At least I'm an independent hunter, free of imposed---as opposed to internally generated---rules and regulations and the daily politicking in order to survive. I hunt whenever I want to. I'm using my intelligence and imagination to find food. There are always some fools out there who think they know the game of hunting better than I do. Little do they know they are preys to real hunters like me.
Let me share with you several deeply held but barely concealed facts and secrets and truths:
1. I've been a hunter for almost 14 years now. I've been the master of my fate. I've stockpiled enough provisions to last for at least 20 years. So economic concerns no longer affect me. Health issues do, however. Thus, I've been exercising and watching my diet. I have 15 lbs to get rid of to get back to my fighting weight (161 lbs).
2. I've a very strong disdain for ignorance and laziness "fortified" with stupidity. Thus, I've held in contempt folks who harbor superstitious beliefs which have no grounds in reality and logic. Those people are emotionally weak and fearful by nature. And that warrants pity and contempt. Real humans live with strength and and without trepidation. They know they have only life to live and ironically that gives them the strength to go through life with a gusto and fearlessly whereas the stupid and cowardly folks fancy that there is an afterlife and yet conduct themselves with timidity and cravenness.
3. It's wonderful to know one's place in the universe. Lately, I have managed to talk little, keep my own counsel, go about my business with stealth and discretion. I no longer commit myself. I hedge and I listen. I am now not going strong anymore. I go gentle, play it simple, and don't convince anybody who I am and who I am not. I just have to convince myself and act the part.
Three secrets are more than enough to divulge, don't you think? Anyway, the more I live and interact with ordinary folks, let alone scums of the earth, I laugh at their lies and poses. Let me tell you something: it's hard to find a genuine, honest, unpretentious but conceited guy like myself. It seems to be most humans fucking try hard to pretend somebody they are not. They always give themselves too much fucking credit that they don't deserve, believe in the bullshit peddled by the religious and political merchants, and go to the grave thinking they are good, decent people whereas the reality is that they are stupid, vain, insecure, superstitious, and fearful of death. Compared to them, I am much, much fucking better. Sometimes, I just wish I had the temerity to blow up all of them to smithereens. Humans are largely detestable because they can't overcome the animalism inside them. If I have a patent weakness is that I am too fucking sentimental. I have a stupid notion that I am sweet and adorable and that women would fall in love with me. I have been fucked over so many times that I finally and belatedly realized that while I may be indeed nice and lovely, that does not all the cunts out there would really love me because there would be some sickos who would be out to get my blood and my wallet just to get over some past, distant, long gone hurts and slights. So now I am wise up. I am a cynic, now. And I feel strong and good about that. Of course that does not mean I don't feel lonely. You see, loneliness comes from the failure to trust anybody. I don't trust because I was hurt. The memories killed my ability to trust.
Life is a journey to be true to oneself and others.
Truth is everywhere. All it takes is an understanding heart. All our problems stem from ignorance and false pride. Ignorance is easily remedied. False pride is the child of insecurity and dishonesty.
Everybody needs to have a long, hard look at himself at least once a day, preferably in the morning right after waking up, in order to start a day anew and awash with understanding.
Most life's problems are self-inflicted and the results of failing to follow the golden rule which includes the following observation:
"What do I or my interlocutors gain from what I am going to say? If nothing, then I must keep my stupid mouth shut because if what I am going to say is only to make me feel good for hurting the feelings of others then I must be an imbecile, idiot, cretin, retard, dumb ass. Sarcasm is cheap wit and earns nothing but lasting enmity. People don't usually forgive as they pretend, no matter how much apology we offer after the damage is done. The hurt is always there. The emotional scar is always there. The ugly and painful memory is always there."
An overflowing river and an angry sea
Meandering storms of the heart will forever gently bend around obstacles that stand on their paths.
(To be continued)
Wissai
October 26, 2012
"You think you're a deep-sea diver while in fact you're drowning. Don't pretend you care little for anything in this world whereas you're a burning churning throb of desire and yearning. Please, make your outer appearances reflect inner realities, otherwise you create nothing but suffering for yourself. Stop playing games with yourself and others. Be authentic."
That was what I told my protégé last week at the hospital when I thought I was going to croak and die of some mysterious flu-like illness. But I somehow recovered. Shit, I'm only sixty-three after all. I'm too mean to die young. I'm gonna live until the ripe old age of ninety-nine. I'm gonna be a mean, crusty old man when I finally kick the bucket. The doctor who was young enough to be my grand-son told me this morning that the worst was over and I could be released in two days.
When I told my protégé over the phone this morning that I was coming home on my own power, and not in a body bag or in a coffin, he shouted with joy. I was not sure if he really meant it. I suppose I'm gonna put him through a test soon.
I'm not sleeping much anymore or they stop putting in the IV the sleep medicine, I don't know which. I know I'm more alert. This morning I took a short walk to the cafeteria and back just to get my circulation working again. I saw the faces of people on the way to the cafeteria and back and inside the cafeteria itself. It seemed to me that everybody had a look of attrition on them. They all looked tired, worried, and preoccupied. The élan, the zest for life was missing. It was funny, to me, they looked that way. They were not as close to death as I was. And here I am feeling overjoyed and bursting with an irrepressible feeling of relief and happiness that I am going to live a few more years. For years, I have been flirting with suicide and filled with homocidal impulses. No more. No sir. No más danzar con la locura. And it seems to me this weight of suffering that I've carried on my shoulders and in my heart since late adolescence miraculously vanished into thin air. I'm feeling light-headed, giddy, buoyant, happy, and carefree. The feeling is better than sex, more intoxicating than booze and pot, and even more intense than falling in love. I suppose I'm savoring the sensation of being granted the reprieve from the definite, unalterable cessation of life, of being cut off from feeling and thinking and other senses of being alive. For the first time since childhood and early adolescence, I have regained the joys of living. To live is to experience choices whereas to die is to be forever shut off in darkness and oblivion.
If I'm sounding like I'm preaching, hell, so what? We're all preachers and lecturers in one way or another. The best preachers are those who only preach to themselves, and not to others, even when they appear to preach to others, they do in fact preach to themselves. To live is to confront one's loneliness and sense of insecurity and precariousness. One thing I know for sure is that I'm no longer fucked, fried, and lied to like so many slaves I see walking like zombies into offices and plants every morning to earn a living wage. At least I'm an independent hunter, free of imposed---as opposed to internally generated---rules and regulations and the daily politicking in order to survive. I hunt whenever I want to. I'm using my intelligence and imagination to find food. There are always some fools out there who think they know the game of hunting better than I do. Little do they know they are preys to real hunters like me.
Let me share with you several deeply held but barely concealed facts and secrets and truths:
1. I've been a hunter for almost 14 years now. I've been the master of my fate. I've stockpiled enough provisions to last for at least 20 years. So economic concerns no longer affect me. Health issues do, however. Thus, I've been exercising and watching my diet. I have 15 lbs to get rid of to get back to my fighting weight (161 lbs).
2. I've a very strong disdain for ignorance and laziness "fortified" with stupidity. Thus, I've held in contempt folks who harbor superstitious beliefs which have no grounds in reality and logic. Those people are emotionally weak and fearful by nature. And that warrants pity and contempt. Real humans live with strength and and without trepidation. They know they have only life to live and ironically that gives them the strength to go through life with a gusto and fearlessly whereas the stupid and cowardly folks fancy that there is an afterlife and yet conduct themselves with timidity and cravenness.
3. It's wonderful to know one's place in the universe. Lately, I have managed to talk little, keep my own counsel, go about my business with stealth and discretion. I no longer commit myself. I hedge and I listen. I am now not going strong anymore. I go gentle, play it simple, and don't convince anybody who I am and who I am not. I just have to convince myself and act the part.
Three secrets are more than enough to divulge, don't you think? Anyway, the more I live and interact with ordinary folks, let alone scums of the earth, I laugh at their lies and poses. Let me tell you something: it's hard to find a genuine, honest, unpretentious but conceited guy like myself. It seems to be most humans fucking try hard to pretend somebody they are not. They always give themselves too much fucking credit that they don't deserve, believe in the bullshit peddled by the religious and political merchants, and go to the grave thinking they are good, decent people whereas the reality is that they are stupid, vain, insecure, superstitious, and fearful of death. Compared to them, I am much, much fucking better. Sometimes, I just wish I had the temerity to blow up all of them to smithereens. Humans are largely detestable because they can't overcome the animalism inside them. If I have a patent weakness is that I am too fucking sentimental. I have a stupid notion that I am sweet and adorable and that women would fall in love with me. I have been fucked over so many times that I finally and belatedly realized that while I may be indeed nice and lovely, that does not all the cunts out there would really love me because there would be some sickos who would be out to get my blood and my wallet just to get over some past, distant, long gone hurts and slights. So now I am wise up. I am a cynic, now. And I feel strong and good about that. Of course that does not mean I don't feel lonely. You see, loneliness comes from the failure to trust anybody. I don't trust because I was hurt. The memories killed my ability to trust.
Life is a journey to be true to oneself and others.
Truth is everywhere. All it takes is an understanding heart. All our problems stem from ignorance and false pride. Ignorance is easily remedied. False pride is the child of insecurity and dishonesty.
Everybody needs to have a long, hard look at himself at least once a day, preferably in the morning right after waking up, in order to start a day anew and awash with understanding.
Most life's problems are self-inflicted and the results of failing to follow the golden rule which includes the following observation:
"What do I or my interlocutors gain from what I am going to say? If nothing, then I must keep my stupid mouth shut because if what I am going to say is only to make me feel good for hurting the feelings of others then I must be an imbecile, idiot, cretin, retard, dumb ass. Sarcasm is cheap wit and earns nothing but lasting enmity. People don't usually forgive as they pretend, no matter how much apology we offer after the damage is done. The hurt is always there. The emotional scar is always there. The ugly and painful memory is always there."
An overflowing river and an angry sea
Meandering storms of the heart will forever gently bend around obstacles that stand on their paths.
(To be continued)
Wissai
October 26, 2012
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Photo and Consequences
Photo and consequencesThe early fall of my 63rd year of existence on this planet stamped forever in the stream of my consciousness. I was vain about my body. Since I had been bragging about my "magnificent" physique all summer long to a group of new friends, I thought I might as well back up my bragging with a photo of me in a brief. To me, it was like a photo of any male on the beach or around the swimming pool. Lo and behold, a woman who a few weeks prior had proudly sent a photo of hers in a bikini lying on the beach somewhere on the planet, posted a complaint in an insolent, haughty, cavalier, and quite stupid language about my bad taste and indecency , and demanded an instant cessation of my posting such photos in the future! This came from a woman who once blithely disclosed that her password to a certain email account of hers was a vulgarism! After her complaint, I promptly sent an one-word apology to the group and a request to have my name removed from the subscription list. So it looked like I didn't understand women at all. I thought I did, but apparently I did not. Not really. Not at all. Then I began reflecting on my psyche and that of other people including the one upon whom I conferred various pet names. And I arrived at the following verities/observations:1. The romantic world is a stage where the players are actors and dancers par excellence. 2. The more inferior the players, the more ruses they employ to cover up their intrinsic worth or, rather, lack thereof. 3. Trust is a rare commodity. I was played for a fool by Chinko Mixto.4. I was naive and trusting, perhaps too much so, of being accepted for my idiosyncrasies.5. Midget was stupid in thinking I was in need of her. All she had was ego, and not an ounce of love inside. She was insolent, just like Chinko Mixto. Anyway, I took a risk and flunked it, so to speak. But I had to do that to find out whom I was dealing with. I had to push the envelope. I was fearless, and they were fearful of coming across as condoning or, heavens forbid, liking lasciviousness so they had to appear as prude and coy (Quelle fausse pudeur!) Now I decided to go off the map. Now I become invisible. And quiet, too. Like a church mouse. Reader, please don't write back and tell me that I just wrote two sentence fragments. I know what I'm doing, I think. I just met a Southern belle at the poker table and I was blown away by her charms and manners and grace. It was a delightful experience. She was in town for a printers conference. She was a marketing executive of a printing company. She was a mixture of naïveté and worldly sophistication. Her Southern accent was a delight. She was proud of her true age (28 but could easily passed for 19) and showed me her driver's ID to prove her being truthful. She had an unusual last name and she called my attention to that and laughed merrily about that. She had a winsome personality and didn't seem to care if she lost a hand. She was a sharp contrast to the woman in the preceding paragraphs. Her personality won me over and made my day. In addition, I recouped all what I had lost the day before in poker and that helped my mood, too. This encounter cleansed me of the poison I ingested recently and reminded me that I must surround myself with pleasant, nice people. That in turn would make me feel good about life and humans. So with this much improved mood, I walked out of the poker room and into the bright sunshine of the fall. The lovely music of the Oldies helped also. I was struck as to why humans came to invent music. I recently read a book about the how, but not the why. Could it be music was a way to amplify and transcend ordinary human discourse, and to appeal to the raw simple emotions? Except for some complex classical pieces of music whose understanding requires a refined sensibility, most pieces of music elicit instantaneous reaction. One either likes it or not after no more than a minute. And it's hard not to like or even to love a musician whose music brings so much peace and joy to the listeners. Unfortunately for me, the therapeutic effects of listening to music didn't last. By the time I got near my condo, I got riled up again by the unpleasant memories associated with the photo. I felt then I had to discharge my frustrations and annoyance. So I turned the car around and got to the gym.I murdered the exercise machines that evening. I worked on them with a vengeance. I wanted to sublimate and transcend my anger, my rage. I wanted that by next time, if and when I give in to the impulse of vanity and have a picture of my body taken again, women would pant and salivate and faint with desire instead of lodging a complaint using feeble excuses ("She doth protest too much!"). I wanted clearly delineated definitions on my body. I wanted to possess a well-sculpted body just to feed my vanity. After an hour of intense workout, my 63-year-old body was screaming for mercy. I relented and headed for the whirlpool to soothe my body of the aches and pains and muscle burns. That was where I met her. She was a Hispanic of incomparable beauty and sexiness. She made my knees weak, my heart flutter, and my mouth water. Believe it or not, I am a bashful, shy, timid kind of guy. But that evening I couldn't help myself. All my timidity evaporated into thin air. She was like a powerful magnet and my eyes were two hapless little balls of iron. They turned to her. They hungrily took in her beauty and sex appeal. I started talking to her in my halting, broken Spanish. Luckily for me, she didn't talk much English so she had to put up with my poor command of the language of Cortez and Cervantes. She didn't know French otherwise I would express myself in that language of love because meeting her was like meeting life and encountering love and sex for the very first time. She opened the eyes of my heart and unlocked the door of my desire. She had everything in looks a man dreams about a woman. Sparkling teeth, long eyelashes to go with beautiful almond eyes, sheeny black hair, young (mid 20s), all curves and filled to the brim with vitality. The more I talked, my Spanish got better. Words came back from long- gone university days. She even noticed that and complimented me on it. I was in a trance. I waxed poetic about her beauty and sexuality. I disclosed that I "specialized" in writing love poetry. She demanded proof so I recited a poem I just wrote a few days before:Mon coeur a un secretLe secret, c'est toiJ'ai un désir Un jour je te baiseraAvec un tendre plaisirJ'ai un espoirMa nuit n'est plus noirEt je ne sera pas solitaireMais dis-moiComment je te fais Connaître mon grand amour Pour toiUne chose plus importante:Je souhaite que tu chantes Pour moi la chanson "Tristesse" de ChopinJe suis ton copainTon amour toujours Of course, I translated into Spanish for her benefit. After I was finished, she clapped her hands and exclaimed "How romantic! How beautiful!" I beamed broadly and my heart soared. The poem clinched it for me. She left her car in the 24 Hours Fitness Club parking lot and rode with me in my Beemer back to my condo. I did have a lucky day. I met a nice Southern belle, recouped the money I lost the night before, and now this Hispanic young woman within my reach. She had on a black top and tight jeans over shapely legs of which I had gazed longingly earlier. They didn't stay on her for long after we got inside the condo. We enjoyed ourselves like we were teenagers and this was the first time we tasted carnal pleasures. We went on for several hours, exploring each other. We went beyond where we each had been before. My sex and my mouth both hurt from being on her everywhere. Later, I took out some weed and offered her some. We smoked, drank beer, and talked until the wee hours of the morning. Then we passed out in each other's arms.When I woke up, she was gone! Alarmed, I jumped out of bed, my heart was racing and I was breathing hard. I was relieved when I located my wallet and found none of the money and the credit cards missing. I took a quick look of the condo and found everything seemed to be in order. I was then relaxed enough to realize that I needed to pee. Her note was on the bathroom counter, with a glass placed on top of it as if she was afraid a hurricane would come through and blow away her loving departing words:"Mi querido Roberto:Siento que no permanezca alrededor para decir adiós. Yo no tuve el coraje de ver dolor en su rostro. Tuve un muy buen momento anoche. Mi mejor. Deseaba que yo había conocido antes. Me ha gustado mucho y sabía que me adoraba. Pero me voy a casarme el mes próximo. Ya no puedo verte, pero siempre estarás en mi corazón. Espero que no se siente muy mal por lo que hice. Estoy segura de que encontrará una guapa mujer pronto porque estas muy agradable, educado y divertido estar alrededor.Te quiero,Sandra(My dear RobertoSorry that I didn't stay around to say goodby. I didn't have the courage to see pain on your face. I had a very good time last night. My best ever. I wished that I had met you sooner. I liked you a lot and I knew you adored me. But I am getting married next month. I can't see you anymore, but you will be forever in my heart. I hope you don't feel very bad about what I did. I am sure you will find a nice woman soon because you are very nice, educated, and fun to be around.I love you,Sandra.")I was stunned by her note. I read it again and again. I understood her situation and accepted her decision. Still, her departure left a void in my heart. The void is not filled up yet. But the latest encounter is giving me hope. Hope is what sustains and drives me. It makes me get up in the morning. It helps me write love poetry to whoever that catches my fancy. I have boundless dreams and fantasies. By the way, nowadays when I think of the Hispanic woman, I don't associate her with the name Sandra as that name was the one of a really insolent and stupid bitch who got on my nerves for a long time until she was run over by a proverbial bus last week. I didn't shed a tear over her demise as near the end of her life, she was cranky and impossible to talk to.To me, the Hispanic woman was always a Mariposa who flew out of my reach but left an indelible beautiful memory. Didn't I tell you that besides hopes and dreams, I also live for memories?Wissai/NKBa'September 15, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Photos of children monks in training
Some may view the photos as examples of brutal indoctrination and brainwashing of children, but the reality is that parents of these children voluntarily send their kids to the monasteries so they could benefit from the general education as well as the Buddhist conception of reality. The pictures represent the training under the Theravada branch of Buddhism, the alleged earliest and purest form of Buddhism. The Buddhist mendicant monks (the novices as well, as seen by the pictures of the children) make their daily rounds of soliciting for alms (they are supported by the community) and eat one meal a day before noon whatever deposited in their begging bowls. They don't work in the ordinary meaning of the world so they can have time to study Buddhism. In return, the community learn about Buddhism and benefit from their scholarly, social and political (when the nations in crisis. In the past Buddhist monks led demonstrations against the military junta in Myanmar) leadership.
True knowledge is at once simple and mysterious. And so am I. I remind myself time and again that most, if not all, common folks fail to realize that I am both a shining mirror and an iceberg. Even my mistakes and sufferings have the markings of bathos, pathos, and some grandeur as I do have the sensibilities of a poet/philosopher. Your journey has the markings of a late start. Read "Confessions of a Philosopher" by Bryan Magee.
Last night I had two horrible dreams: the first involved my killing of my mother; the second one was about a fight to death with a guy I hated.
True knowledge is at once simple and mysterious. And so am I. I remind myself time and again that most, if not all, common folks fail to realize that I am both a shining mirror and an iceberg. Even my mistakes and sufferings have the markings of bathos, pathos, and some grandeur as I do have the sensibilities of a poet/philosopher. Your journey has the markings of a late start. Read "Confessions of a Philosopher" by Bryan Magee.
Last night I had two horrible dreams: the first involved my killing of my mother; the second one was about a fight to death with a guy I hated.
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