#hugotLines #Catunaosiblings #selfExplanatory
Dagitab: An Ode to Middle Aged (freakin') Love (whatever that meant)
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
A little bit of Janis ...
Painting. Books. Guitar. Rebellious. Unconventional. Old fashion love. Wild old fashion makin' love. This is us. May be the reasons why I got so drawn into her. The connection of alpha omega. She died over shooting heroine, that same year I was born
Of blowjobs and heartbreaks. There will always be that One Person. Joe. Country and Li'l City.
And differences. Distinct. Strong.
Her relentless desire for social approval. In her younger days she was an outcast. Well, usually in high school, either you fit in or you don't. Hers continued until college, from dorm halls to motel rooms. Her rockstar status changed all that. Not until she was back in her high school homecoming, in Port Arthur. Hometowns they have that funny way of sneakin on you ... like those ghost stories and bad dreams ... sometimes, they just don't go away no matter how far and fast you've run away from all of 'em.
A few times I ask myself, is this one of my many ways to impose my rebellious, stubborn nature. As I either feign social approval or I simply really do not care or I may be condescending, too. Well, you see, while I do not belong in a rock band like she did, but the limelight, oh dear, I don't want it but its there ... I've got moments that it was just there for the taking, but then, I chose to (like I still do) snuggle safely, comfortably, sweetly to my comfort group. A small place for a big girl. Like in my corporate life, one of the things I still do not learn to enjoy being part of management are those dreadful events with my co-managers, MDs, Prexies, heads of agencies --- rubbing elbows during executive meetings, cocktails and dinner receptions. In CITEM, I always will find that chance to table hop where my friends are --- all the way to the department I head, my kumares, the quiet hardworking ladies from maintenance and the funny, very helpful gentlemen from security.
She thought and felt otherwise. I know some people until this very day, people who crave and fight for attention. I find it disgusting and when i say that I know that I'm being insensitive. I don't wear their shoes, I don't carry their chains. I succumbed to their neediness, their suffocating clinginess, their shallow perspective of life's basics and essentials, I cave in and give them the dose of attention they need.Out of pity. Out of temporal joy that it gives them. I am partly responsible in creating/sustaining that illusion that at this very moment they have this overwhelming feeling of being wanted. An apex height that melts down quickly, furiously.
Her obsession to belong was a spiral of compromises and negligence that probably drove her to heroine. One night, she choked from her own vomit. Still makes me wonder what ever happened to her raspy voice.
I managed my own addiction. I was more of a rebel than a junkie. There was more angst in me than craving. For some reason, I guess my life line does not include being an addict. I even took charge of my own alcoholism. And challenged my own self in overcoming a depression. I am resilient but I know when to stop. I once said, a wise fighter is someone who knows when (and how) to quit. I will always always come to terms with myself. I draw the line. I bounce. Always, always...
Twenty-seven. Mid- twennies. Prelude to that. Been there, done that, too. It's always a phase. Just a phase we all go through. Perhaps if she was able to surpass that stage or outlive it, she'll be sober looking back at 35 or 40 years. But she didn't.
I'm still here. Writing my pages. Forty six and staring at my more or less 27 year old self.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/music/artists/janis-joplin-why-she-still-has-a-piece-of-our-heart/
Of blowjobs and heartbreaks. There will always be that One Person. Joe. Country and Li'l City.
And differences. Distinct. Strong.
Her relentless desire for social approval. In her younger days she was an outcast. Well, usually in high school, either you fit in or you don't. Hers continued until college, from dorm halls to motel rooms. Her rockstar status changed all that. Not until she was back in her high school homecoming, in Port Arthur. Hometowns they have that funny way of sneakin on you ... like those ghost stories and bad dreams ... sometimes, they just don't go away no matter how far and fast you've run away from all of 'em.
A few times I ask myself, is this one of my many ways to impose my rebellious, stubborn nature. As I either feign social approval or I simply really do not care or I may be condescending, too. Well, you see, while I do not belong in a rock band like she did, but the limelight, oh dear, I don't want it but its there ... I've got moments that it was just there for the taking, but then, I chose to (like I still do) snuggle safely, comfortably, sweetly to my comfort group. A small place for a big girl. Like in my corporate life, one of the things I still do not learn to enjoy being part of management are those dreadful events with my co-managers, MDs, Prexies, heads of agencies --- rubbing elbows during executive meetings, cocktails and dinner receptions. In CITEM, I always will find that chance to table hop where my friends are --- all the way to the department I head, my kumares, the quiet hardworking ladies from maintenance and the funny, very helpful gentlemen from security.
She thought and felt otherwise. I know some people until this very day, people who crave and fight for attention. I find it disgusting and when i say that I know that I'm being insensitive. I don't wear their shoes, I don't carry their chains. I succumbed to their neediness, their suffocating clinginess, their shallow perspective of life's basics and essentials, I cave in and give them the dose of attention they need.Out of pity. Out of temporal joy that it gives them. I am partly responsible in creating/sustaining that illusion that at this very moment they have this overwhelming feeling of being wanted. An apex height that melts down quickly, furiously.
Her obsession to belong was a spiral of compromises and negligence that probably drove her to heroine. One night, she choked from her own vomit. Still makes me wonder what ever happened to her raspy voice.
I managed my own addiction. I was more of a rebel than a junkie. There was more angst in me than craving. For some reason, I guess my life line does not include being an addict. I even took charge of my own alcoholism. And challenged my own self in overcoming a depression. I am resilient but I know when to stop. I once said, a wise fighter is someone who knows when (and how) to quit. I will always always come to terms with myself. I draw the line. I bounce. Always, always...
Twenty-seven. Mid- twennies. Prelude to that. Been there, done that, too. It's always a phase. Just a phase we all go through. Perhaps if she was able to surpass that stage or outlive it, she'll be sober looking back at 35 or 40 years. But she didn't.
I'm still here. Writing my pages. Forty six and staring at my more or less 27 year old self.
 |
| This was my first photo of her,already internet days.. |
Beltin Ball & Chain, one of my fave performance of Janis at the Monterey Fest. Check out, Cry Baby, too.
All about Janis
http://www.countryjoe.com/autobio.htm
http://www.janisjoplin.com/index.php
.... that you and i could never, Joe and Pearl
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Surviving Friday
Outrageous dreams. Don't you get that each time.
I wasn't really thinking about that just before bedtime. But the beating and the trauma, or may be it has been embedded subconsciously ...
Friday morning, 7th of October. This was how I remember everything., may be because this was how I want things to be, hope them to be ... I keep dreaming you know.
"Somebody was sorry and trying to make up. The other one gave in easy. I was torn for awhile but in the end you knew who I went for."
But you see, lessons were taught and learned, hard and tedious as they were, the redeeming factor is that people can actually turn it around and learn from their misfortunes so they wouldn't have to go through the same ordeal again. The signs are blinking and you know it.
We can recall, sometimes in details, what we just dreamed about because, dream occurs not during deep sleep but when we are nearly waking up, REM stage. Memory of that brain activity still fresh.
Last Friday, that was the dream I woke up to. And this was how it ended ...
You were holding my hand like a clasp, exactly like you said you wanted to do with me before when we were still talking, and me still in the spiral ... and I was like a puppy kissing your big, round and brown cheeks, you know that part with your famous trademark mole which' I've always find sexy (I still do) --- that you didn't know and will never but what do you care.
It was that moment with you, and then there was this voice, fainted but firm. "Remember what he did to you."*
*i brought this with me the whole day friday. and survived it. like i always do
I wasn't really thinking about that just before bedtime. But the beating and the trauma, or may be it has been embedded subconsciously ...
Friday morning, 7th of October. This was how I remember everything., may be because this was how I want things to be, hope them to be ... I keep dreaming you know.
"Somebody was sorry and trying to make up. The other one gave in easy. I was torn for awhile but in the end you knew who I went for."
But you see, lessons were taught and learned, hard and tedious as they were, the redeeming factor is that people can actually turn it around and learn from their misfortunes so they wouldn't have to go through the same ordeal again. The signs are blinking and you know it.
We can recall, sometimes in details, what we just dreamed about because, dream occurs not during deep sleep but when we are nearly waking up, REM stage. Memory of that brain activity still fresh.
Last Friday, that was the dream I woke up to. And this was how it ended ...
You were holding my hand like a clasp, exactly like you said you wanted to do with me before when we were still talking, and me still in the spiral ... and I was like a puppy kissing your big, round and brown cheeks, you know that part with your famous trademark mole which' I've always find sexy (I still do) --- that you didn't know and will never but what do you care.
It was that moment with you, and then there was this voice, fainted but firm. "Remember what he did to you."*
*i brought this with me the whole day friday. and survived it. like i always do
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