I dreamt of my grandmother just a couple of days before she died. I hadn’t thought about her for a while then (she’d been fighting cancer for some time). When I learned about her passing, on a school night, I felt a bit sad but was mostly in denial. I went to school the next day, composed, still in denial perhaps, until it was lunch time. I sat with a group of friends, not having mentioned the passing of my grandmother (likely not even thinking about it at the moment), someone brought up dreams, and for the first time, I heard the interpretation that when you dream of someone, it means that they’re the ones who have been thinking of you, not the other way around.
For some reason, I was suddenly hit by a storm of emotions, barely able to fight back the tears. I guess, although probably untrue, I was saddened by the idea of me crossing my grandmother’s mind days before her passing when she hadn’t, albeit should’ve, crossed mine.
“-I envy religious people.
-Yeah but I also feel bad for them.
-We feel bad for them on an intellectual level but they feel bad for us on a spiritual one.”
“I sometimes wish that I could go back to believing. To go back to being delusional again because I think I was happier. But I can’t, I have already killed God.”
How could two contradictory desires live within one being? On the one hand, I want to experience so much in life. I want to learn how to play music, to read all great books, to travel & visit all places, to learn all languages. I want to accomplish & make a difference. But then on the other hand, I would also like for my life to end, for all life to end. There are so many unanswered questions. So much misery & heartbreak that no part of me wants to experience. I live in the fear of tommorw. I live in the fear of the continuation of today. The tedium of life is the end of it, not death. How could a person have so much life in them at one moment, and none at all another?
How could you go to heaven when everything you do as a woman is sin? Don’t breathe too loudly. Don’t laugh. Don’t walk a certain way. Don’t dress some other way. Don’t be friendly. Don’t smile at or socialize with men. Don’t raise your voice or talk back to them. Don’t make a scene. Why is it so difficult for your simple mind to understand that all that is asked of you is one facile thing? To be invisible.
The way I dealt with stress in the past was by putting my stressors in order, from the most stressful to the least, and then working on getting rid of the first on the list while completely blocking the rest out of my mind. One stressor at a time. You can’t drown that way. But lately, my stressors have been so interconnected that it’s impossible for me to deal with one without the other. They’re too many & are all of great significance. On top of that, a few major stressors of these are entirely out of my control. Ones without simple & quick solutions. Ones the cure of which lies in time. But time takes time & I’m running out of energy. I’m getting tired, slowly losing the power to tread water, to keep my head above the surface.
I write tonight, and for the first time, I write because I want to, not because I have to. I WANT to tell you. Words are having a party in my heart, or maybe in my head. I can’t exactly tell at the moment I’m sorry but it’s so loud, they’re so loud. They’re dancing, singing, drinking & jumping around. Perhaps they’ll go silent in an hour, or twenty four or maybe in a week or much more, but tonight, they’re happy. Tonight, they celebrate the beauty & wonder that is them. And assuredly unbothered, tonight, I stay up with them, to gaze & admire.
I thought when you said you wanted me, that you meant you wanted only me. I thought that I was your result, the end of your search, but I was wrong. To you, I was just a paper in a magazine. A funny girl who the sight of didn’t make you gag, one of many. You’re bored now, onto the next page.