and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
Molly Bloom's Soliloquy
Ulysses by James Joyce
you live through your heart's desire. i can't own the power and magic of this world, and yes it is always available. it's taken me approximately 3 years of conscious necessary thresholds to reach a deep unconsciousness that really isn't so vast and untenable—for example, i used to watch a fire burn, and glowing red coals, those riders that came out of the trees, a medicine show and dream. i sparked in and out of satori sitting on docks overlooking the ocean, a string on a maze that really was just a path; and i don't really know anyone. no one does, and that's kind of great. what a relief. i don't know anything not even my own mind. and i keep saying yes. it turns out my own true nature is tenderness. i told you about that session, briefly in an email, i think. what really just happened was the full force of the wave of anxiety and fear and memories just broke finally, and i was verbalizing the shit out of it as it was happening. it's like a fever breaking and then practical things need to happen. i need to bathe and get some clothes and some soap. and my skull happens to be gone and my brain is exposed. but s. was sitting next to me and the way it happened was gentle, nothing by proxy. just that it is real, and you can't argue with reality.
and i had a moment with s. like that. you say it so well "Knowing how to make do with a letting be: letting oneself be faced with truth, letting it shine on its own. Whether with truth or sanctity. Knowing how to allow the coming not of its shine, which comes from it alone, but the opening that allows you to discern it. Knowing how to make an opening for it, and knowing just how much this knowledge is out of our control."
i can't say it was the first, there have been so many, and this was a benediction. and there will be others, moments. a life.
turns out, i blundered onto the right path anyways,
to find the origin,
trace back to the manifestations.
when you recognize the children
and find the mother.
you will be free of sorrow
tao te ching
isn't it nice to know that no matter who's singing what song, you can hear.
i called my shrink to ask her for a refill. she asked me how i was doing on the meds. i was like, fine! you know? it's good! except i'm having a little trouble with short-term memory. like, i will take a pill and then a half a minute later seriously not remember if i did. she was intrigued. let's google that because that's a new one. i waited while she typed it in. oh here we go. "med x and med y attenuated the cognitive deficits observed in depressive rats." we giggled. "that's not you. that has nothing to do with the medicine." you're not depressive, a little sociopathic. "barking mad". we both started laughing uncontrollably. i can't believe you said that in the first session, that was uncalled for. who said that to you and who made you believe that? i knew i shouldn't have told her about how i can move the world with the very power of my mind. some things are best left to fiction. i still would like some help with the wrack lines of the sea that blow up during a storm, and signs of resourcefullness. i think that's where sex comes in, as if it needed any opening to begin with, the ecology of it's sounds and eddies. flowers that fringe the shore, colors not seen from the beach. true madness might be thinking you know how to read the wild liquid coursing through someone else's body at the first.
"i loved your story about the snapdragons" she said, when she was getting off the phone.
i never told you the story about the snapdragons.
"no, but you will."
and you know what she was talking about? peace, unlooked for. i just spellchecked this and james joyce can't spell.
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