On Looongitude, and other Demons
Just a simple question; a little and simple question that didn't even have a question mark at the end of it; so simple and so easy to answer that it brought a smile to my face. That is a topic so obvious in my universe that I could've replied with one simple word. But I had received another question and wasn't sure about the answer; I was gona check it out before answering because it's been long time since I witnessed that steam boat with no more than a captain and a couple of passengers sailing down the river, a yellow flag raised on its tallest mast denoting the presence of cólera.
During the day I gave it a second thought and things somehow weren't as clear as they were in the morning. I thought I had my demons under tight control; thought my very own Pandora's Box was firmly locked and everything was crystal clear, but found out the seals had been broken. And I had to look at my demons in the face. . . ugly bastards.
Isn't the presence and the powerful reality of DISTANCE, a reason enough to consider it a long shot? (<--that's a question mark) Distance has wreacked previous relationships in my world, and separation from someone I care for has proved to be a source of lots of sadness and anxiety. So the obvious answer would be "distance": a lot of miles between B and CLT.
The other extra ooo's came from that big question mark that "Shelter" is in my life today (there's more to shelter than was originally published, but there'll be plenty of time to develop it in due time). And those two ugly demons come with lesser ones, but equally hideous, like my very own insecurities and self esteem issues, and stuff like that. I can see them all holding hands and jumping with joy, like children heading for a park in a warm and sunny Spring day.
When looked with a microscope, even little insects looks like horrible monsters; with the naked eye though and without so much fucking thinking that I'd put into it, they just look like bugs. I wish I could smash them with my shoe. Maybe the first step is always to look at your own demonds in the face, and see how fucking stupid they are.
If you are una niña muy linda who loves chocolates and who doesn't care for beer, and who no doubt is worthwhile, those are my very own demons fluttering around, some of the luggage I carry with me, and that's how long, "looong" is for me. That's what was in my mind when I said that "that's a looong shot".
During the day I gave it a second thought and things somehow weren't as clear as they were in the morning. I thought I had my demons under tight control; thought my very own Pandora's Box was firmly locked and everything was crystal clear, but found out the seals had been broken. And I had to look at my demons in the face. . . ugly bastards.
Isn't the presence and the powerful reality of DISTANCE, a reason enough to consider it a long shot? (<--that's a question mark) Distance has wreacked previous relationships in my world, and separation from someone I care for has proved to be a source of lots of sadness and anxiety. So the obvious answer would be "distance": a lot of miles between B and CLT.
The other extra ooo's came from that big question mark that "Shelter" is in my life today (there's more to shelter than was originally published, but there'll be plenty of time to develop it in due time). And those two ugly demons come with lesser ones, but equally hideous, like my very own insecurities and self esteem issues, and stuff like that. I can see them all holding hands and jumping with joy, like children heading for a park in a warm and sunny Spring day.
When looked with a microscope, even little insects looks like horrible monsters; with the naked eye though and without so much fucking thinking that I'd put into it, they just look like bugs. I wish I could smash them with my shoe. Maybe the first step is always to look at your own demonds in the face, and see how fucking stupid they are.
If you are una niña muy linda who loves chocolates and who doesn't care for beer, and who no doubt is worthwhile, those are my very own demons fluttering around, some of the luggage I carry with me, and that's how long, "looong" is for me. That's what was in my mind when I said that "that's a looong shot".
Jean-Francois was drunk at 8:12 AM
1 Comments:
Oh yeah, about El Amor... Fermina confronts the Doctor one afternoon, while she's knitting and he's reading a book; a very sutil question let him know that she knows about his adventures. Later on he confesses to her the whole affair and it sends her through the roof for two reasons: he confesses to the Catholic priest and she knows that they can't keep a secret, even if it's a confession (I also knew that); and she also gets upsets because she was expecting him to deny it all (In South America men are told to deny it all, you know, men have to be men). After four days of discussions she takes off, until the doctors shows up unexpected just to win her back. That whole part of the book is excellent.
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