Friday, May 21, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
rasputin haunts my dreams
I am as of this moment (who am I kidding- as of FOREVER) in love with Rasputin.
It is a love I cannot fight because every time we speak I feel it as strongly as a rose yearns for the sun. And gesundheit! That is a bad analogy that I apologise for inflicting upon you.
It’s a shame that I am caught in the “once hooked-up with” position, because, my friends, once you have sunk into that depressing alcove of a relationship there are no hands to pull you free; no vines to scramble with, no light of the Lord nor Satan to follow.
You are just stuck.
This is the sadness of it all- this is what will haunt my children every night when I tell them the fables of my youth. Fortunately for them, these stories will make them old and wise beyond their years, and what their peers experience shall be naivety; while theirs shall be knowledge enriched glee. “Hook up at your own peril,” they shall hear me cry in the nirvana characterised by the hours after the clock has struck twelve. Sleep no more; offspring of mine shall sleep no more.
Can one even tell another that they are indeed- the love of their life? That their heart beats and their nose inhales and their eyes see purely for them? So daunting a task has actually been attempted by people close to my heart- I am, you are, we are (Australian) products of those 3 tiny words that allow another into the sensitive crevices of our hearts. Or so they say. I cannot bear another minute of this charmed life – I must tell him now, or Rasputin shalt be goneth forever.
But I am scared. A little girl has suddenly appeared in the corner of my mind; she is tugging on the sleeve of the tall girl bursting with false bravado. She questions my motives, my future- our future and, looking through the kaleidoscope she has so kindly offered me, I see that it is indeed a bleak future.
No! Wait! My children, we must hold on to the dream! Long live romance and song!
some of the jargon that managed to leave my head
My name is Anna. I think I was either named after a very important tree of Catholicism, or my name is an attempt at a feminine version of Jesus. But apparently Anna is a boy’s name and my parents are blind idiots who are completely ignorant of their baby’s genitalia. So says Annabelle of Prep C at Our Ladies’ College way back in 1998 (just for anyone willing to hunt her down and make her suffer for ruining my first year of school). Not that I’m a bitter person; no way. No, I am sweet, nice Catholic vegetarian Anna with curly hair and a soft voice. People look at me and see a humble, shy, gentle person; however there is no doubt in my mind I am viewed as a weak character in the stage production that is life. It’s terrible that people see that in me; because it’s come to be what I now see, believe I am. This formerly non existent (or so I like to think) flaw in my disposition is what I try to hide; however I cannot conceal it now it has embedded itself upon me. I am a terrible liar.
My mother is called Karen. She is a half- Indonesian warrior woman who doesn’t believe in failure or the benefits of small talk, and so is seen as the quiet woman sitting next to the loud cheerful man at dinner parties. A.K.A. my father- named Damien at birth, but has come to answer to the label “Dad”. My dad is a tall man with peppered hair who only wears blue, white, grey and black. He thinks colour is arrogant; I tend to disagree but I say “whatever floats your boat”. He went and studied agriculture in the middle of nowhere and ended up unhappy as a CEO of CSIRO, which is an extremely prestigious position. I know this because my grandfather likes to remind me every time the family gets together; which fortunately, (or not) is often. Both of my parents are pessimistic, slightly snobbish people who believe in a good education and God. I’ve learnt a lot from my parents but I hope I don’t turn out like them.
I have three brothers, and whenever I tell people this it is as if I have told them I have an extra head hiding under my jumper. I have to reassure them that a) no, it is not weird being the only girl, in fact there are great benefits to this at times b) my brothers don’t torture me, spit on me, pull my hair, attack me, swear at me, try to boss me around or force me to eat cheese c) my brothers are, in fact, quite decent people. All that is mentioned above is true, should you choose to believe it.
I’ve never been able to convince myself life is real. It feels like an illusion, and nothing more. Which is crazy because of course life and all the things in it are real and we’ve been told that and that is what we have to believe because otherwise there is no reason for anything. Hypothetically, even if life were just a figment of my imagination, why isn’t it perfect? Why must my mind incorporate conflict and pain and suffering and hunger and isolation and discrimination and criticism and hurt and anger? I have too many questions, and not enough answers; nor do I have the time to ask them. Perhaps, by Shakespeare, the world is simply a stage and we are putting on a play for our deities, whoever they may be. Nothing has ever felt real. Any emotion I’ve eve had has been talked away, and with it, I think, my sense of reality. My ultimate goal, my absolute ambition of the character I play is to be content. I can’t help thinking this is unachievable but maybe contentment is also an illusion. After all, contentment is really just a state of mind, right? The human mind can be tricked into it, can it not?
To be an arrogant mouse is far more dangerous than to be a modest mouse.
Who can you go to? Who can you tell?
I felt nothing I saw nothing he had to be there or the earth the stars the sky would dissolve vituperating my existence I felt nothing I saw nothing my supercilious soul he so undeserving of this dull burden this heavy deadweight sinking deeper and deeper into the hollows of my heart burning to the point of darkness and despair I felt nothing I saw nothing he had to be there
The earth laughs in flowers.
Unbeing dead isn’t the same as being alive.
I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach one thousand stars how not to dance.
E. E. Cummings
Kiss me and you will see how important I am.
I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.
Is there no way out of the mind?
Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life and to be at peace.
I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.
I lean to you; as numb as a fossil. Tell me I’m here.
Eternity bores me. I never wanted it.
You smile. No, it’s not fatal.
People or stars regard me sadly; I disappoint them.
Now I am silent. Hate up to my neck, thick, thick. I do not speak.
Sylvia Plath
I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.
What I’ve learnt:
- In most cases it is better to talk bullshit than to not say anything at all.
- If you don’t speak much people think you’re a boring stuck up weirdo.
- Sleep has cycles and it is easier to wake after 5 hours than it is after 6.
- It’s good to have hobbies.
- If you talk loudly people assume you’re confident.
- Personally it’s easier to reveal the surface of myself to a total stranger than it is to allow a friend to see my vulnerable core.
- People associate smiling with happiness. Not many can spot when it’s fake.
- Durian is okay.
- Tea tree oil is good for breakouts.
- Dry shampoo is amazing.
- Not everything is my fault. I’m just not that influential. It’s arrogant and self centred to think that.
- I have to live for now. Not for tomorrow. Not for yesterday.
- Writing in capitals is extremely therapeutic.
- I shouldn’t judge because I have no idea what it is that I am judging. No one can know a person’s true consciousness, which is what defines them as people.
- I have to open my heart and love everything, even the shitty stuff, and let go of certainty.
- Trusting people is hard. I’m still learning.
- It’s a free country and I’m still a teenager. I’m allowed to screw up.
- Negativity is no fun.
- Suicide is the most selfish thing a person can do. It’s not fair to anyone.
- Stuff can be expensive.
- Life is precious yet the human race A.K.A the most arrogant fucked up race, continues to squander it, destroying the Earth to alter it to our needs and purposes, while simultaneously having bitch fights amongst ourselves every five seconds.
- Balinese mush will make you sick.
- It’s so uncool to like stuff that’s not cool that it turns out to actually be cool.
- Being able to laugh at yourself is important.
- La vita e bella.
SHH YOU XAVIER FOOL
Adolf Hitler
Glanced at my hand’s pillar of devotion-
‘Twas an exceeder of the finger of direction
In declaring my homosexuality
Slammed the gas chamber door
Forever in peace amongst misjudged mankind.
The Day My Mother Answered Tough Questions
Q1 How much of the Bible is fact? Short answer: nobody knows. Long answer: In my opinion, the Bible has evolved like Chinese Whispers, with the authors and each subsequent writer interpreting significant events as they experienced them or as they remembered them, or to make a point in support of an argument they wanted to make. How important is ‘fact’ anyway? I don’t worry too much about the ‘facts’ in the Bible. There are many things wrong with the Bible, so I just take from it what works for me and leave the rest. I suppose I’m not a strict Catholic like Grandpa, but then what does that matter? I see the Bible as I would a piece of literature, carrying a bias however crude or subtle, to be enjoyed (or not) with the author’s intention (or in this case, authors’ intentions) in mind. I like the mind games that one can play with the stories and the language used too.
Q2 Why did God flood the earth, send a plague of insects etc? Short answer: to make you fear Him. Long answer: God didn’t write these things down. Scribes did. We need to ask what their motives were in the times they lived. These stories are in the Old Testament, aren’t they? The New Testament shows a much more loving God.
Q3 How much impact does God have on the world today? Enormous impact. ‘God’s’ influence permeates all of us, even as an Atheist one takes a stance in relation to God. God personifies religion, but he/she/it permeates all cultures as every single culture in the world has a deep-seated spiritual layer that underpins humanity. Humans are spiritual, and while they are spiritual and ask questions about life after death or the meaning of our existence, we will always want answers which are usually so elusive and unsatisfying that for many of us having ‘God’ around allows us to take a rest from all the questioning and lack of answers!
Q4 Why does God endorse punishment? Historically, ‘God’ came across in the scriptures as an angry force to be feared in order to ensure that people behaved in the way ‘He’ wanted. All I can say is that humans weren’t always so civil as today but rather brutal and wild, and God needed to be portrayed as gruesome in order to herd the untamed during the course of centuries. Many people today dismiss this version of God and the interpretation of God this way as now in the 20th & 21st centuries we have the luxury of being able to sit around and think and talk and philosophise.
Q5 Does God accept and love everyone of all religions? Supposedly, yes.
Q6 Why are non-believers damned for eternity? See Q4, herding the untamed. The notion of being ‘damned’ is irrelevant in our day and age.
Q7 Is life meaningless? Ie what is heaven? Monty Python came to the conclusion that the meaning of life is ‘42’! I suppose the meaning of life is what you make of it, what your conclusions are about your specific life. Mother Teresa’s work - helping those in need – gave her her meaning, as indeed the work of volunteer medicos or students and countless others who travel to communities affected by a tsunami or earth-quake gives meaning to them. My life’s work as a parent is similar to those of all parents – to nurture, take care of, guide and love my children. The many other facets of my life including being a partner to Dad, a daughter, a friend, an educator, a business person, a writer, a renovator etc all give me meaning and a reason to get up out of bed every day. What is heaven, you ask? This was a concept I struggled with when I first thought about becoming a Catholic. I grew up questioning that place called ‘heaven’ which many of my school friends and family members believe is the place you go to when you die. ‘You can’t prove that this so-called ‘heaven’ exists after you die because you’re dead!’, I always said. No one gave me an answer that was satisfactory until a priest later suggested to me that I view heaven in the present, as a state of mind or an experience that we aspire to and experience daily, ie ‘heaven’ is the happiness we feel every day, and Its flipside ‘hell’ is the sadness, fear or suffering we feel on a regular basis. I much prefer this explanation of what heaven is.
Q8 What is consecration and why does it occur? At Mass the consecration happens the moment when the offering of bread and wine becomes the ‘body & blood of Jesus’. This sounds rather cannibalistic to me. So I just see swallowing the host as spiritual nourishment (and don’t take ‘body & blood’ literally), a way to feel nurtured like I do when I have the image of Jesus sitting beside me at Mass or anywhere else I choose. Why does the consecration occur? Because it’s the tradition for a priest to do this at Mass. I think whoever came up with the consecration believed that the audience he/she/they faced at the time were rather crude in their thinking (unlike us sophicates today!) and needed strong almost over-the-top imagery to get the point. In those times, butchering animals, blood and gore in the market-place and probably in the home, seemed to be much more prevalent in daily living. I could be pontificating here, and blaspheming terribly! My main point is that the consecration reminds me of the spiritual nourishment that I feel when I see and swallow the host during Mass.
Q9 Is Jesus going to come back? Jesus in the flesh as himself isn’t coming back, I’m sure of that. Again, I take what I want from Catholicism, and leave alone what doesn’t work for me. Looking at Jesus on the cross reminds me that whenever I go through a struggle or find something hard to endure, I will come out alive and on top again soon (like His resurrection), and invariably I do! For me in this sense, Jesus comes back just about every day. Sometimes when I sit in Mass I imagine Jesus’ presence next to me (or all of us if we’re together), and I find that image enormously comforting. When I feel alone, I imagine Jesus sitting near me, and I don’t feel so alone. Like any imaginary friend, I talk to him. As for coming back in the form of another Messiah, maybe he will come back, but not as himself in the flesh but in a reincarnation of another amazing human being. But I have no way of knowing this…
Q9 Why does a select generation get more evidence than ours? Good question. In my view the generations that take the time to write out what they think and what they think they know, APPEAR to have more evidence or appear to know more, appear to have authority on the topic or appear to be the privileged, ones. I think the Bible is due for a big shake-up and should definitely be rewritten and updated to suit our language, our understanding of the world from a scientific-based point of view, and what is relevant and important to how we live our lives today. The tone of the Bible is quite damning in many ways, as you have already picked up, and no wonder it has little impact or a negative impact on so many people to the point where they turn away.
Q10 The notion of original sin is ridiculous, yet it is a central thread of Catholicism. I agree entirely, as I find it insulting. I always go back to the story of the original sin as a mythical story not to be believed and that is not meant to be interpreted literally; not even figuratively! I dismiss it as irrelevant to my life, and view it as an interesting piece of imaginative work that is outdated as far as women’s experience is concerned.
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