"Could you at least pretend?" He stopped in mid conversation. Some discourse about the pairing of saffron with fish or was it paella. She had lost him some 10 minutes ago. Caught between the drone of his voice and the tinkle of Richard Clayderman's Ballade pour Adeline.
"Pretend what?" She asked automatically even though she knew the answer. Dragging the rocket leaves across herplate, watching the trails of dressing left in their wake. Blossoms of brown and yellow twisting, writhing into life on the white plate. Now a face grimaced back at her.
"That you're interested in the damn conversation. Or am I such a bore?" The indignation, frustration evident in his voice. And the implicit plea in the undercurrents beneath, the faint tremor barely discernible. 'But undercurrents are the most dangerous. So easily disregarded, overlooked. Till they overwhelm, drag you under and drown you. And then it's too late. Too late for anything save to mourn.' The dispassionate part of her observed. 'But I have nothing to say.' The face on the plate now morphed into a torrid mess. Of nothing. Or what a baboon might splash on a canvas and others hail as art. The clatter of cutlery on plate.
'Could you at least look at me?'
She looked up. Into the eyes of the man she'd shared her life with. Woke up to every morning. Stubble on the chin. Tousled hair now immaculately styled. The twinkle in his eyes when he grinned. His musky scent as they lay spent in embrace.
She saw the desire, confusion and the unspoken plea now written so plaintively on his face. She struggled for words to address his fears, comfort her lover, her friend. But words failed her.
A flicker in his eyes. Like a passing shadow. Hurt, despair, anger and resignation flashing past in quick, silent progression. A silent movie on the face of the man she'd known and come to read like an open book. For his emotions unlike hers while equally intense, were open and undisguised.
Scrapping his chair back, he rose. 'I can never tell what you're thinking. I'll get the bill. See you back at x at 7..'
'Sit down!' The words unbidden, rang out like a gun shot. He stopped startled. The forcefulness of her sudden ejaculation surprised her. Painfully aware of the curious glances from a couple of diners. 'Please.' she added. Not as an afterthought but one she really meant.
He settled back in his seat. A little warily she could tell, surprised by her sudden uncharacteristic outburst. With an apprehensive look that one would give a dog you can't decide whether to pat or risk having your hand bitten off.
Leaning forward, she grasped his hands. 'I love you dear. But there are times I don't feel like talking. And I never pretend when it comes to you. Why should I? It's who I am.' He blinked, stunned by her unusual candidness no doubt she thought.
Then he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in tandem with his impish grin and it was like a burst of sunshine on an overcast day. "I Love you just the way you are." Short, simple but all at once the mood lightened. The iceberg of tension and unspoken expectations shattered. And all at once she knew they'd be making wild passionate love later.
Still smiling and holding her hand, he called for the bill. Grinning like an idiot or a kid with his hands full of candy. She mused. But my idiot. And she smiled in spite of herself.
Your love, my Dear is like a drug. Sweet, syrupy, sometimes abrupt. Dark with meaning, Light with candour. The companionable silences, comfortable counterparts to the exuberant exchanges that follow. Like butter on toast, a rose to my nose. Tell me darling whenceforth I should go. For your arms my love, are inviting me so.
I look out. At the rain.
A fine mist coalescing into a shower of silver needles.
Sharp and slanted into the wind.
Before exploding in wet demise. Silver shards on the black asphalt .
As tongues of lightning fork across the sky.
Brilliant flashes rending the black canvas of night.
Amidst the lazy drawl of thunder.
And the symbolism is not lost on me.
Of you and I.
And the dance we dance, to a tune only we hear.
But for now all I think.
Is of my bed and how good it'd be.
As it rains.
And so I shall.
Looking back on the previous posts, an inexorable truth comes to mind. As the years pass, I post less.
Not out of any conscious effort to abstain from doing so. In fact, the opposite may probably be so. A general sense of lethargy, the mind numbing impact of work and the simple dearth of desire would probably explain the silence.
I've always believed blogging should be cathartic. The freedom to say what you want, when you want within the usual confines of the law etc etc. Which we all know as far as our little red dot is concerned covers the usual taboo areas of politics, race and to a smaller extent religion. None of which interest me much.
Life's too serious and tedious with work and mundane, nagging problems like what to have for lunch or when your stupid ass bills are due to be concerned/ want to be concerned about the above. But the general lack of impetus to blog or the need to discuss, rant or muse has played a part. Not to mention the instant gratification of other social media platforms like FaceBook or Path for a quick, dumbed down version of a rant or muse. Not quite as substantive and cathartic as a leisurely, measured blog post but instant. Much like a quickie, instant release then swiftly forgotten.
Which in some ways mirrors the current state of affairs in my personal life. We all want to settle down, to find that special someone to share your life with. But things can never be rushed and if you know that guy you're seeing now or you previously had the hots for is uncommitted or simply incompatible, be merciful. Remove that tumor of doubt, he's never going to commit. You'll never be compatible. Save yourself and him the time and trouble of a failed courtship or the inevitable emotional roller coaster ride that accompanies such courtships.
Carnal creatures as we are, our gut instincts honed over milennia of assessing suitable mates (be it purely for physical release or something more substantial) are often perversely right on the basest most primal levels of attraction.
I've been partying hard. More so than I have for quite while. Done a few bat shit crazy ass stuff. Made quite a few new yet steadfast friends. Kindred souls with a knack for fun in the company of like minded individuals without the inclination or need to judge. Sometimes, I'm tired of engaging intellectual conversations or clever ripostes. Sometimes, I just want to be a dumb bitch, laugh at stupid things and have a good time. At the end of the day, it's the company and the friends and principles you stand by that count.
Settling down is still the goal but like all good things it can't be forced or rushed. I'm tired of guys who can't commit, give excuses for their failings. Whackos who chase with a single minded vengeance then go berserk when you tell them that getting to know each other better may be a better idea than attempting to get into your pants (which to be fair is still an enjoyable idea sometimes). Exes who message that they miss you and have as much EQ and empathy as a sociopath.
Is it that hard to find a decent guy? For now, I'm happy with friends and stuff I enjoy. Won't say no to the occasional hot fuck though ;)
Leave ya with Lights by Ellie Goulding. 33 weeks and still No. 2 on the charts. Don't forget to turn the lights off when you're done. ;)
"Lights"
I had a way then losing it all on my own
I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown
And I'm not sleeping now the dark is too hard to beat
And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone
'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone
Home
Noises, I play within my head
Touch my own skin and hope that I'm still breathing
And I think back to when my brother and my sister slept
In an unlocked place the only time I feel safe
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone
'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone
'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Funny how rearranging a couple of words in a single sentence can convey a meaning so different from its original form. Some times the difference is striking, often it is subtle but upon further analysis no less different. Perhaps sometimes even more, given the subtle but profound nuances that convey shades of meanings not initially revealed at first glance.
Take the phrase 'Nothing with you is forever' and juxtapose that with 'Nothing is forever with you.' At first glance, the former may appear more pleasing to the eye. More grammatically correct. But the two are different, convey different meanings. Subtle changes most clearly seen from the difference in emphasis and the implicit nuances arising from such a swap.
And you realise that the latter is of no less merit than the former. For what is conveyed is different and neither sentence is a perfect replacement for the other.
But not all words and their meanings or combined nuances change in the reshuffled sentence. Most do not. Some in fact are limited by the very nature of the word. After all, how many meanings/inflections can one impute to a word like 'not'? The word 'Nothing' and its meaning remains constant in both sentences.
Nothing with you is forever. That, to my mind at least, emphasises the words 'with you'. Nothing remaining nothing, the nuances and impression conveyed is that 'nothing (I do/feel/think about) with you is forever'. Everything is temporal, transient. Like a passing breeze.
The emotions evoked are one of mild wistfulness, resignation and grudging acceptance of the seeming demise of a futile dream. A negative connotation, realistic, even pragmatic to an extent but sad nonetheless.
Then look at Nothing is forever with you. The emphasis this time to my mind appears to be on 'is forever'. Not to say the term 'with you' is unimportant or secondary. The emphasis is on the terms 'is forever' and the words with you follow after.
Just like the flesh is formless without the bones but fleshes it out and makes it whole, so too does the emphasis set the skeleton for the phrase with 'with you' fully defining the phrase thereafter.
'Nothing is forever' with you. And the nuances conveyed, the impression given is that nothing, the things we do, you say, we think, I feel, we express when with you is forever, constant, unchanging, fixed in stasis. It evolves, grows, changes with time, commitment and our actions. Where and how they will develop is anyone's guess but ours to decide.
We could talk of more permutations. Of how a single comma could paint the phrase a toxic taint of cynicism. (Nothing, is forever with you) Or from further rearrangements, construct an aloof observation (With you, nothing is forever).
But that was never the aim of this soliloquy.
And what's certain is:
Nothing is forever with you. Forever is nothing without you.
In absence the sun doesn't shine. Peals of gold that divulge the paradigm Of senses garbled blind Riotous shrieks of colour That mock the divine
Out of dark does light divide. Fields which unfold before hungry eyes Down the myriad hued tiers of paradise The sun in yellow does arise In essence, your love, my divine.
