Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Stumbling out of the haze

Four years ago today I went to the mirrored room in the Zapata basement and swallowed several handfuls of a medley of OTC painkillers with swigs of coke and went to sleep hoping to not wake up. I did. Wake up.

Yesterday was beautiful. I was doing a meditative exercise of sorts, not speaking. The day before I had built up to it by being conscious of what I was saying before saying it, and trying to say only what was necessary.
Alpha and I went to Kent Ridge Park and played with a tortoise that bit our fingers. Are those the ones that swim or is it turtles?

I did wake up. I woke up and stumbled off my top bunk about 5 times in the wee hours of the morning, being quite enough to not wake Anna, so easy from habit. The puke was blue and tasted like death. At the final toilet bowl visit, the annoying girl whose name I can't remember except it begins with a D asked if I was hung over, I said I was just sick, and she said in what she thought was a sweet voice that she had been around alcoholism before so if I ever wanted to talk she was there for me. My mind's fist punched out her puckered face. My body dragged itself back to bed.

I woke up from a mini-nap in the afternoon and spoke a phrase, forgetting the exercise in my sleep haze. Then some minutes later said hi to Acchan when he came home unexpectedly. I think I was still a little groggy. Yeahs and Oopses also happened a few times throughout the day. I would have been frustrated by those slips. Not so. Would have been nice to not have had slipped up, but it also would be nice to go through an entire play without messing up a line or an entire dance performance without messing up a step. Nothing would be taken if nothing were mistaken, not so?

The greatest mistake I made was that night. Greatest in the sense of biggest, but also in the sense of best. My inner core, I think, is the same as what came out wrapped in pale brown wrinkly prune baby skin almost 23 years ago, so one might imagine I might well have turned out this version of me even if I hadn't taken that drastic step. But I can't help being so certain that it was only when I squared up to face the beast at the edge of the cliff and jumped off into its arms and fell tumbling out of the rabbit hole onto pastures greener than I would have known if I had continued stumbling in circles in the haze of the beast's black breath wafting in from the edge that I wouldn't let myself approach because I was scared of the pain that I would inflict on those I left behind that loved me, it was only then that I was able to become Me now.

I convened with the moon last night and cried. She was just past full, I think. I hadn't cried in a while, it was weighing on me. Luna pulled out the tide of my tears so I could wash my rubbish out onto the beach. I had cried twice for Chinnu, but that was different. I'm lighter now. Every year on May 4 I thought I might do something like this but perhaps I needed the distance of four years.

Day 32
Moon 1ish (I think the last post 23ish should have been 24ish)
Post-Ambikaaliilaa 16, still wrapping up

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