22 June 2007

And I am too

Polar bears are drowning.

I slept for a bit just now and dreamt of Uzi and Thailand. The beaches in Thailand are amazing, even the air smells exotic, and the water - you wouldn't believe the water. I know, I know it is exactly like I dreamt it. It was an angusihing dream but it was a good one. See, I've always known I would one day go there. I do have to go there someday, my Tig was last happy there, my Tig was killed there. But he was killed horribly and I couldn't even bear to think I'd set foot on the ground that he walked on, the ground that nearly swallowed him. I don't know if one grief helps process another, maybe all griefs feed off each other, and Thailand is this bizarre country I was never particularly interested in, although I often wrote the King to urge him to release prisioners, but it is so tied to me in so many direct and indirect ways. I woke up and I knew I could say it now. Hear me:

I can go to Thailand now

One day I'll go honour my Tig, lay a stone on his monument, and say goodbye.
And that day I'll die a little, but it will be all right.

When I opened my eyes the pillow was wet with my tears and there was a show on the telly, polar bears are drowning bcs the ice floes can be up to 100 km apart and so they finally try to swim bcs they're hungry, so hungry, like Laika, and then they drown, they drown, polar bears are not meant to drown, they're just not, it's obscene, and I am tired of death, and tired of sadness, and tired of the life I've been living for the past 6 years, and so tired of the one I'm living now, so sorry I wasted myself, all for nothing, I feel like those polar bears, stretched, drowning, I feel like I've been drowing forever and I can't see the surface anymore, I wish I could erase this bit of the past, it really doesn't seem like much now, only loads of water with no surface and no end in sight. I don't think I'll take that exam tomorrow, it all feels pointless and heavy, too heavy. I can't do this shit anymore, I just can't, I've gone beyond all my reserves. What now.

6 furballs:

Kath said...

Sweetheart. I wish I could bring an ice floe over to you, quickly, and feed you fish and tell you things will be all right. It doesn't look like it now, but they will be. They will be.

brooksba said...

Love to you sweetie. What a powerful dream. I like what you said, "It was an anguishing dream but it was a good one." Hugs.

Diana said...

One breath at a time. One dream at a time. One blink at a time. This is how you will get through. You will hold on to the hands that reach for you and know that all those who really love you will not let you drown.

cat said...

Days like this are days to not ponder how to carry on. Just make it though that particular day luv. The next day will present it's own set of challenges. One step at a time. Looking at the whole picture sometimes is just too much.

*more big squishy internet hugs*

Udge said...

{{{ lioness }}}

I don't know what to say other than: we feel for you and would support you in any way we could. Be patient with and kind to yourself, and hug the animals until they squeak. Shabbat shalom.

CarpeDM said...

Oh, Johnny. It's such a powerful dream and quite beautiful but yes, anguishing as well. I know it seems pointless right now but we're all going to be here to help you swim and reach the next ice floe. Love you so much.