HOME!
I got a clean bill of health. I apparently have a VERY healthy heart. Better than it has a right to be with my weight! WOOT! My lungs are STRONG! ::flexes lungs for a better view::
Apparently, my little breathing issues were brought on by stress and anxiety and it just presented in an odd way. I've had panic attacks and anxiety attacks before and NONE of them acted like this. I mean... not really. Yes, the tightness in the chest and feeling like I can't breathe were similar but my mind wasn't racing... wasn't flying all over the place trying to control the "event" and causing the panic to worsen...
However, I HAVE had a lot of stress over the last year. The last two weeks have upped the ante stress-wise. My surgery, my nephew's surgery, Unca B's surgery, struggling with whether or not I should return to the lake for the school year and continue my weight loss efforts there. Should I keep Adrian in that environment and community another year and let him become more invested in it before, ultimately, ripping him out of it and bringing him back to Houston where he'll have to start over in the 4th grade. I will have to learn to manage my eating here. I will have to learn to make it work in THIS environment... but is now the time? Just lots of... stuff... going on in my head. I supposed it IS entirely possible it was panic and stress.
Regardless, I AM HOME! I do have to say, if any of you are in the Houston area and have to go to the hospital... Houston North West Hospital just offa FM 1960 is great. It's clean and modern. The staff if knowledgeable and personable. Very friendly and caring. They encourage questions and give detailed answers. They WILL take the time to make you comfortable in all ways. My family and I were very impressed. :)
Friday, July 25, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Humble Pie
I was admitted to the hospital today. I've been having pressure on the left side of my chest and feeling like I'm unable to get my breath for 2 days. Husband took me to the ER this morning after that sensation woke me out of a deep sleep and then my left arm started feeling tired and weak. We feared blood clots had made their way to my lungs but a chest CT showed no clotting. Thank God. Now I'm being worked up for cardiac issues but everything thus far has come back negative for problems. Tomorrow I have the 2nd part of my cardiac stress test and we should know more then.
My friends and family have really lifted me up throughout all of this and I am so, SO grateful to have you all in my life.
I want to thank each and every one of you for the kind words, thoughts, and prayers you've been sending my way during this whole Pain/Surgical drama. The support of my friends and family has been wonderful and has made a HUGE difference in my outlook and mindset.
You have managed to keep a smile on my face and laughter in my heart when I've been hurting more than I can describe and scared out of my mind. You bring me Peace. You are the greatest gift I've ever been given. Thank you so much.
You have managed to keep a smile on my face and laughter in my heart when I've been hurting more than I can describe and scared out of my mind. You bring me Peace. You are the greatest gift I've ever been given. Thank you so much.
Guest Post-A-Palooza Day 8 - The Final Chapter
KDFrawg is a writer from Kansas and the proprietor or Plurkiverse.com
People, Plurk, and Reality
People, as a rule, are great. I like to keep that in my mind at all times, because it can be easy to forget and I never want to let the thought go. Sometimes things happen that shake our faith in people, like the recent LillyAnn episode. No matter what the truth turns out to be, the incident will have made us question the efficacy of our fellow man. Questioning is all right; it makes us better. But losing faith is not right, because it makes us worse.
I have witnessed incidents similar to this one unfold on the Internet for over 25 years. People have seen things like this happen in the non-virtual world since humans made their way down from the trees, and perhaps before. Many of them start out as little white lies that get big and dark gray. Others begin life as black like deep midnight and go downhill from there. I don't care how the latest incident came about. It just doesn't matter.
What matters is that people care enough to be deceived once in a while. There is no shame in that. In our haste to help, sometimes we give too much and too soon. It is better to err on the side of humanity, as long as we do not lose anything really meaningful, like our love for our fellow human beings. We can lose a little money once in a while and recover from it. If you lost love and faith, you have lost it all.
Think instead about the people you care about, like NotAMeanGirl, and about the real problems they face, like surgery. We are sure that our friend will come back to us better, with fewer problems than before. Still, we can't help but worry because we are good people, and we care. Don't let the occasional bad person alienate you from all the great people. Stop spending negative energy thinking about scams, and start sending positive energy towards NotAMeanGirl for her quick recovery, and for a better life, problems solved.
People, Plurk, and Reality
People, as a rule, are great. I like to keep that in my mind at all times, because it can be easy to forget and I never want to let the thought go. Sometimes things happen that shake our faith in people, like the recent LillyAnn episode. No matter what the truth turns out to be, the incident will have made us question the efficacy of our fellow man. Questioning is all right; it makes us better. But losing faith is not right, because it makes us worse.
I have witnessed incidents similar to this one unfold on the Internet for over 25 years. People have seen things like this happen in the non-virtual world since humans made their way down from the trees, and perhaps before. Many of them start out as little white lies that get big and dark gray. Others begin life as black like deep midnight and go downhill from there. I don't care how the latest incident came about. It just doesn't matter.
What matters is that people care enough to be deceived once in a while. There is no shame in that. In our haste to help, sometimes we give too much and too soon. It is better to err on the side of humanity, as long as we do not lose anything really meaningful, like our love for our fellow human beings. We can lose a little money once in a while and recover from it. If you lost love and faith, you have lost it all.
Think instead about the people you care about, like NotAMeanGirl, and about the real problems they face, like surgery. We are sure that our friend will come back to us better, with fewer problems than before. Still, we can't help but worry because we are good people, and we care. Don't let the occasional bad person alienate you from all the great people. Stop spending negative energy thinking about scams, and start sending positive energy towards NotAMeanGirl for her quick recovery, and for a better life, problems solved.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Guest Post-A-Palooza Day 7
Plurk Friends
Hi, I am Laura Iriarte and I am guest blogging for Tessa/NotAMeanGirl while she recovers from surgery. I met Tessa on plurk.com.
Plurk.com is a social networking site that consists of a timeline broken down to the minute. Members or plurkers post comments or questions in 140 characters. Similar to friendfeed.com, other members can comment or reply to someone else's plurk. In this way it is easy to have a conversation with one or more people.
Plurkers are friendly and warm, if I plurk simply, "hello", I will easily have 10 responses from other plurkers saying hello back. I love that! Even though I have many more twitter followers and some friends on twitter I adore, that doesn't happen on twitter. If I say hello on twitter, I will get one or two responses max, sometimes zero.
If I ask a question on twitter, it's debatable whether someone will answer it. I've gotten mixed results. But on Plurk, plurkers are out in full force to help each other. It's really nice. I really enjoy the friendly and fun plurk community. I've met some very nice people.
NotAMeanGirl is one of them. And when she put out a request for guest bloggers while she was recuperating, many of us raised our plurky hands to help her out. That's what plurkers do. If you are looking for and enjoyable way to pass some time, give plurk.com a try.
I'll see you there!
Note: My plurk name is lauralovesart, and well, of course, NotAMeanGirl's is NotAMeanGirl. I regularly blog at: http://lauralovesart.wordpress.com. Please come and visit!
Hi, I am Laura Iriarte and I am guest blogging for Tessa/NotAMeanGirl while she recovers from surgery. I met Tessa on plurk.com.
Plurk.com is a social networking site that consists of a timeline broken down to the minute. Members or plurkers post comments or questions in 140 characters. Similar to friendfeed.com, other members can comment or reply to someone else's plurk. In this way it is easy to have a conversation with one or more people.
Plurkers are friendly and warm, if I plurk simply, "hello", I will easily have 10 responses from other plurkers saying hello back. I love that! Even though I have many more twitter followers and some friends on twitter I adore, that doesn't happen on twitter. If I say hello on twitter, I will get one or two responses max, sometimes zero.
If I ask a question on twitter, it's debatable whether someone will answer it. I've gotten mixed results. But on Plurk, plurkers are out in full force to help each other. It's really nice. I really enjoy the friendly and fun plurk community. I've met some very nice people.
NotAMeanGirl is one of them. And when she put out a request for guest bloggers while she was recuperating, many of us raised our plurky hands to help her out. That's what plurkers do. If you are looking for and enjoyable way to pass some time, give plurk.com a try.
I'll see you there!
Note: My plurk name is lauralovesart, and well, of course, NotAMeanGirl's is NotAMeanGirl. I regularly blog at: http://lauralovesart.wordpress.com. Please come and visit!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Guest Post-A-Palooza Day 6
The Accidental Racist
(pings http://devylgyrl.com/2008/07/15/racism-generation-to-generation/)
Years ago I was actively involved in a number of spirited and deeply felt blog conversations on race. One of the most insightful bloggers involved posted a question: "What did you know and when did you know it?", asking us when we first became aware of race and how. In response I posted the story of my childhood in Oakland in the mid-60's, when I was staying with my grandparents as the first African-Americans moved into the neighborhood. I related the terrible racism of my grandfather, a hard-working salt of the earth man who hated everyone who was not pure white and from the right areas of Europe, and how I defiantly befriended the children of the first black family to move in down the street. I was a socially inept child that was often the victim of the cool kids (yes, even in Kindergarten), and as such I was very grateful to have friends who didn't enjoy tricking me into 'drinking' cups full of sand, among other juvenile humiliations I endured.Nathan and Lionel were my best friends that year, and i related this story in the effort to make myself sound like the 'good white person', the one who looked past skin color and familial influences and saw the nice children who would not do hurtful things to me.
As I related this story I cast myself as a social misfit, and concluded by saying that I was glad not to be like the 'normal' children who tormented me so, and in doing so showed my ignorance to my own racism. Yes, my own racism. Because just rebelling against the status quo and identifying myself as an outsider in that neighborhood by virtue of my choice of playmates, I was unknowingly reinforcing the prejudices that I carried. Without even realizing what I was saying, I came right out and said that white was 'normal'.
So there I was, congratulating myself for being ahead of my time in open-mindedness, when I was completely blindsided by the following response:
I remember reading this comment and feeling dizzy with shame, because let's face it that's just what I did. And this shook me to the core. It took from me my illusions of being better than the racists that raised me, of having overcome the challenges of my upbringing and grown up to be an enlightened being. I looked from my grandparents' generation to my parents, who considered themselves very tolerant of 'different' people, yet who could not bring up a non-caucasian person in conversation without identifying them with a racial label. They thought they were the good white people too. And then I looked from my parents' generation to myself, and realized that my insistence that I "didn't see color" was really an insult to the people whose color i claimed not to see. I realized that defeating racism did not mean acting as if race did not exist.
Since then, I have learned to see in color. I have learned that my acquired color-blindness was not the answer and, like Devyl,to teach my children about racism. My strategy, had it not been for this eye-opening, would have been to teach my children to ignore the differences of race and color, rather than to embrace and honor them, and to listen and learn and try to understand. I learned that it is one of my most important tasks as a parent not to teach my children 'tolerance', as if differences are something we need to tolerate, to endure; a burden. If I succeed in this, my children will never accidentally blurt out some ignorant remark that reveals a deep flaw in their perspective, where they see themselves as gracious in their acceptance of others. Acceptance is something we have for shortcomings, tolerance is something we have for pain. Acceptance of race is not grace, it is arrogance. So, this is my goal for my children, but what of myself? In truth I am not even sure I am not practicing some insidious form of condescending whiteness in writing this. What I have learned in the intervening six years since the blog post mentioned above, is that I have some wonderful friends on the Internet who have put up with me through my ignorance and provided a gentle education as I struggle to get it right.
(pings http://devylgyrl.com/2008/07/15/racism-generation-to-generation/)
Years ago I was actively involved in a number of spirited and deeply felt blog conversations on race. One of the most insightful bloggers involved posted a question: "What did you know and when did you know it?", asking us when we first became aware of race and how. In response I posted the story of my childhood in Oakland in the mid-60's, when I was staying with my grandparents as the first African-Americans moved into the neighborhood. I related the terrible racism of my grandfather, a hard-working salt of the earth man who hated everyone who was not pure white and from the right areas of Europe, and how I defiantly befriended the children of the first black family to move in down the street. I was a socially inept child that was often the victim of the cool kids (yes, even in Kindergarten), and as such I was very grateful to have friends who didn't enjoy tricking me into 'drinking' cups full of sand, among other juvenile humiliations I endured.Nathan and Lionel were my best friends that year, and i related this story in the effort to make myself sound like the 'good white person', the one who looked past skin color and familial influences and saw the nice children who would not do hurtful things to me.
As I related this story I cast myself as a social misfit, and concluded by saying that I was glad not to be like the 'normal' children who tormented me so, and in doing so showed my ignorance to my own racism. Yes, my own racism. Because just rebelling against the status quo and identifying myself as an outsider in that neighborhood by virtue of my choice of playmates, I was unknowingly reinforcing the prejudices that I carried. Without even realizing what I was saying, I came right out and said that white was 'normal'.
So there I was, congratulating myself for being ahead of my time in open-mindedness, when I was completely blindsided by the following response:
The average human being is a person of color, with dark hair, dark eyes, and non-white skin. To be a person of color is to be 'normal'.
White people have forced 'whiteness' on the psyche of the world as being 'normal' through sheer brute force...you know, the whole domination,colonization, oppression of the world's people of color bit.
I have been approached by people like you in my life, either for friendship or dating, who didn't see themselves as 'normal' white people and felt some sort of kinship or affinity towards people of color because of this. Yeah,I've heard it all before from white people coming at me with Freaks unite!Oddballs rule! Hmmmph, as if I am inherently a freak or oddball or not 'normal' because I am black. This is insulting, on so many levels. It is condescending. It is rude. It is hurtful.
I remember reading this comment and feeling dizzy with shame, because let's face it that's just what I did. And this shook me to the core. It took from me my illusions of being better than the racists that raised me, of having overcome the challenges of my upbringing and grown up to be an enlightened being. I looked from my grandparents' generation to my parents, who considered themselves very tolerant of 'different' people, yet who could not bring up a non-caucasian person in conversation without identifying them with a racial label. They thought they were the good white people too. And then I looked from my parents' generation to myself, and realized that my insistence that I "didn't see color" was really an insult to the people whose color i claimed not to see. I realized that defeating racism did not mean acting as if race did not exist.
Since then, I have learned to see in color. I have learned that my acquired color-blindness was not the answer and, like Devyl,to teach my children about racism. My strategy, had it not been for this eye-opening, would have been to teach my children to ignore the differences of race and color, rather than to embrace and honor them, and to listen and learn and try to understand. I learned that it is one of my most important tasks as a parent not to teach my children 'tolerance', as if differences are something we need to tolerate, to endure; a burden. If I succeed in this, my children will never accidentally blurt out some ignorant remark that reveals a deep flaw in their perspective, where they see themselves as gracious in their acceptance of others. Acceptance is something we have for shortcomings, tolerance is something we have for pain. Acceptance of race is not grace, it is arrogance. So, this is my goal for my children, but what of myself? In truth I am not even sure I am not practicing some insidious form of condescending whiteness in writing this. What I have learned in the intervening six years since the blog post mentioned above, is that I have some wonderful friends on the Internet who have put up with me through my ignorance and provided a gentle education as I struggle to get it right.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Guest Post-A-Palooza Day 5
How much food goes to waste in YOUR household?
I had other ideas about what I would blog about tonight, grand ideas that would take some time to research. However, I find that right now, all I want to do is rant. So, I am going to have a semi-productive rant.
I live on a *very* limited income. I share a large-ish house with two other adults (they are brother and sister, and I claim them as my brother and sister because they are my best friend's brother and sister), their three children (she has two, he has one), and my child. We split the rent (2/2/1, with *him* having the one/fifth ratio), the bills (1/1/1), and the food (1/1/1/).
Being in this situation, it is obvious to me that we should be respectful to one another and conserve as much energy, food, and water as possible. We should not be letting water run in the sink untended, putting the air down to 70 degrees during the day when nobody is home, or wasting food. Right? Common sense, I would think.
However, since we *first* moved in together, my child and I have limited most of our showers to 15 minutes or less, with a few running longer if we were hurt, tired, or stressed out. My roommate takes 20 minute showers, daily. Her son would turn the water on, sit on the toilet for 20 minutes, then get in the shower and bathe for 10 minutes. It has bothered me since we moved in together, but no matter what I say, she *insists* that my child and I use more water than they do, collectively. Whatever.
I have a habit of setting my thermostat and leaving it be. If i get hot, i put on a fan. If i get cold, I pull on a blanket. I probably don't conserve as much energy as I should with the thermostat, and I will gladly admit that I am spoiled in that I have almost *always* had air conditioning and like to use it during the summer. However, I do shut off lights when I'm not using them. I turn off the tvs and radios overnight, and I trained my child years ago to turn off light switches when leaving the room. My roommate? They leave lights on through the whole main part of the house - hallway, living room, kitchen - whether they are using them or not, because they don't like the dark. Both my roommate and her son leave their radios on all night long. They turn the air to an extreme to cool/warm the *whole* house instead of using the space heater or fan to cool off the *one* room they are using to hang out.
I like to recycle. I think it is healthy, I think it is helpful - no matter how little my effort counts in the scope of the world, I think it only takes a minimal effort on my part to make a huge difference in my own contribution to the trash. My roommates? No. They don't recycle. They don't like to rinse the cans out before they put them in the trash. They figure it all gets dumped in the same place anyway, what's the point?
Now, here's my biggest pet peeve. Food.
When I cook, I cook a lot of food, because I know I like it - and I can eat it the next day or the day after. I put food in the refrigerator and take care to package it properly so that it will be as "fresh" as possible the next day. When i cook, my leftovers do *not* go to waste. It is amazing how much food I throw away every week out of the refrigerator. Meat that was prepared but not cooked. Half-drank sodas or juice boxes. A can of soup half eaten. A head of lettuce used once for a sandwich. Tomatoes that didn't get touched because I was told they were for a particular purpose, but that purpose never came about. A whole box of pasta that was prepared but not used because they didn't have the milk or the butter to put into sauce. Half-eaten fruit. Half-eaten dishes. Bread that got hard or moldy because they don't like to keep it int he refrigerator, where it will last longer, but they ALSO don't like to keep the twist-tie on it - they just fold it over and call it done (ew, gross!). At least one a month, I fill an entire trash bag with wasted food. What the heck is going on here?
There are five of them in the house. Why aren't they eating all these leftovers and all this food? What in the world is going on? I asked once. I was told, "I do not like leftovers. When we were growing up, we didn't eat them. Only Mom ate the leftovers." You know why? Because they were so poor, there was *only* enough food to cook one meal at a time, and there were six of them in the family, so that food got eaten up really freaking quickly! So, why cook so much if you're not going to eat it the next day? Well, because they want there to be plenty now. *Insert eye roll here.*
I know I could do better with the other resources we use. I *know* I could conserve more energy and water. I do not think, however, that I waste either needlessly. My thermostat goes up during the day because I'm not here (or down during the winter), and while I take long showers, I don't run the water the whole time, plus I use a thingamajig that helps conserve water. But the waste of food? That is a very physical, very noticeable, very tangible waste of resources and money. Not to mention all the starving kids it could feed if it were possible to get it to them.
I'm disgusted by it. Once again, I am going to make more of an effort to rescue what they are wasting. Wish me luck!
Oh, and if you want to discuss, answer this: How much food do YOU waste in your household??
Thanks for listening (reading)
xoxo
Devyl
Oh, and if you want to know more about me, or you like randomness, check out my blog, "Random Thoughts and Musings," at http://devylgyrl.com/
xoxo
I live on a *very* limited income. I share a large-ish house with two other adults (they are brother and sister, and I claim them as my brother and sister because they are my best friend's brother and sister), their three children (she has two, he has one), and my child. We split the rent (2/2/1, with *him* having the one/fifth ratio), the bills (1/1/1), and the food (1/1/1/).
Being in this situation, it is obvious to me that we should be respectful to one another and conserve as much energy, food, and water as possible. We should not be letting water run in the sink untended, putting the air down to 70 degrees during the day when nobody is home, or wasting food. Right? Common sense, I would think.
However, since we *first* moved in together, my child and I have limited most of our showers to 15 minutes or less, with a few running longer if we were hurt, tired, or stressed out. My roommate takes 20 minute showers, daily. Her son would turn the water on, sit on the toilet for 20 minutes, then get in the shower and bathe for 10 minutes. It has bothered me since we moved in together, but no matter what I say, she *insists* that my child and I use more water than they do, collectively. Whatever.
I have a habit of setting my thermostat and leaving it be. If i get hot, i put on a fan. If i get cold, I pull on a blanket. I probably don't conserve as much energy as I should with the thermostat, and I will gladly admit that I am spoiled in that I have almost *always* had air conditioning and like to use it during the summer. However, I do shut off lights when I'm not using them. I turn off the tvs and radios overnight, and I trained my child years ago to turn off light switches when leaving the room. My roommate? They leave lights on through the whole main part of the house - hallway, living room, kitchen - whether they are using them or not, because they don't like the dark. Both my roommate and her son leave their radios on all night long. They turn the air to an extreme to cool/warm the *whole* house instead of using the space heater or fan to cool off the *one* room they are using to hang out.
I like to recycle. I think it is healthy, I think it is helpful - no matter how little my effort counts in the scope of the world, I think it only takes a minimal effort on my part to make a huge difference in my own contribution to the trash. My roommates? No. They don't recycle. They don't like to rinse the cans out before they put them in the trash. They figure it all gets dumped in the same place anyway, what's the point?
Now, here's my biggest pet peeve. Food.
When I cook, I cook a lot of food, because I know I like it - and I can eat it the next day or the day after. I put food in the refrigerator and take care to package it properly so that it will be as "fresh" as possible the next day. When i cook, my leftovers do *not* go to waste. It is amazing how much food I throw away every week out of the refrigerator. Meat that was prepared but not cooked. Half-drank sodas or juice boxes. A can of soup half eaten. A head of lettuce used once for a sandwich. Tomatoes that didn't get touched because I was told they were for a particular purpose, but that purpose never came about. A whole box of pasta that was prepared but not used because they didn't have the milk or the butter to put into sauce. Half-eaten fruit. Half-eaten dishes. Bread that got hard or moldy because they don't like to keep it int he refrigerator, where it will last longer, but they ALSO don't like to keep the twist-tie on it - they just fold it over and call it done (ew, gross!). At least one a month, I fill an entire trash bag with wasted food. What the heck is going on here?
There are five of them in the house. Why aren't they eating all these leftovers and all this food? What in the world is going on? I asked once. I was told, "I do not like leftovers. When we were growing up, we didn't eat them. Only Mom ate the leftovers." You know why? Because they were so poor, there was *only* enough food to cook one meal at a time, and there were six of them in the family, so that food got eaten up really freaking quickly! So, why cook so much if you're not going to eat it the next day? Well, because they want there to be plenty now. *Insert eye roll here.*
I know I could do better with the other resources we use. I *know* I could conserve more energy and water. I do not think, however, that I waste either needlessly. My thermostat goes up during the day because I'm not here (or down during the winter), and while I take long showers, I don't run the water the whole time, plus I use a thingamajig that helps conserve water. But the waste of food? That is a very physical, very noticeable, very tangible waste of resources and money. Not to mention all the starving kids it could feed if it were possible to get it to them.
I'm disgusted by it. Once again, I am going to make more of an effort to rescue what they are wasting. Wish me luck!
Oh, and if you want to discuss, answer this: How much food do YOU waste in your household??
Thanks for listening (reading)
xoxo
Devyl
Oh, and if you want to know more about me, or you like randomness, check out my blog, "Random Thoughts and Musings," at http://devylgyrl.com/
xoxo
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Guest Post-A-Palooza Day 4
Fajar Jasmin is an aspiring writer from Indonesia. Having a background as a Certified Technical Writer, he does have an unhealthy fascination of details, - which he shamelessly indulge on when working on his first novel.
That being said, he's also a pompous smartass. Proud father. Inconsistent blogger. Self-styled writer. Avid reader. Book kisser. Passionate lover. Industrial music evangelist. Dumb loyalist. Top-notch timewaster. Football philosopher. Tolstoy apostle. Lucky bastard. Ping-pong spin doctor. And a Hopeless romantic.
For more info about him, visit his personal blog at http://sanewords.wordpress.com
A LOVE LETTER OF A CANNIBAL : An Interlude
Dear Butterfly,
Are you there ? Wherever there is ? Are you there, crossing your feet on top of each other, sipping your coffee while observing the sky from behind those cat-eye glasses of yours ?
Dear Butterfly,
Are you there ? Wherever there is ? Are you there, crossing your feet on top of each other, sipping your coffee while observing the sky from behind those cat-eye glasses of yours ?
3 days, 8 months and 11 years. That’s exactly how long since the last time I’ve seen you. You see, I’ve been counting. I’ve been counting my days since I walked out of your door that Sunday evening. And wondering. What happened ? What happened to our warm bubble of lovemaking ? What happened to turn a butterfly back to what it used to be, - an ugly caterpillar ? Reverse metamorphosis ? Unable to find out, I did likewise. I regressed to mankind’s most primal existence. I dug deep to its most primitive desire. I feed.
It’s been downhill since. Life after you was black. Black. Bleak. Dark. Naked. Torn. I can only see two colors now : Black and Red. And because red is the only bright hue I can see in this otherwise insipid monochrome damned world of mine, I got addicted to it. And because there is nothing redder than blood. The beautiful crimson. Once tasted, forever hooked.
I wonder how does it feel like ? Sitting on the lap of somebody who betrayed your closest one ? Prowling around on the green grass like two carefree children who escaped their mother’s vigilant attention ? Basking in the orange rays of Singaporean dusk, I bet treason tasted good then, eh ? You see, what dumbfounded me was, - and constantly is, what was on your mind ? Why would you do such thing ? Broken promises ? Unsung odes ? I searched and searched and searched, until it hit me. It’s just a plain, blatant, stinking backstabbing at its most ugliest.
They say fight fire with fire. Would a fire be hot enough to consume the vile stench of what you did ? When you kill someone, the best way to avoid the stinky decomposition fumes is by eating the body. See the logic now ? I do not eat to hide the traces. I feast on the glorious vermillion of blood and meat and eliminates the obnoxious smell at one stroke.
In a way, what I’ve been doing is searching. I’ve been searching for that critical point where our universe was bent into an unrecognizable shape. Answers. Reasons. Motives. Explanations. Triggers. Did I start the doomed chain reaction myself ? Was it some involuntary decision of mine that somehow created a different, twisted perception to you ? And searched I did.
Even until I found you myself. Even until I chew on your finger one by one. Even as portions of our limbs are joined together in my grinder to create the most tantalizing and delectable meat paté you’ve ever had. I won’t stop, my dear butterfly. If I can not bend heaven, then I will stir hell for an answer. And before I can do that, I will have to pass the ultimate border of all : death itself. Oh, I’ll do it gladly enough. We’ll do it together, remember ? I will die asking, slowly, smiling. Looking into diminishing glow of life in your pretty eyes.
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