Wilde Yearnings

• Snapshots from a Life

  Posted: March 25, 2009, 12:44 pm by Wildeyearnings

  Caution: Extremely random - proceed at your own risk.
  
  If life was music:
  
  Prelude
  His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven. His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set. His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh. His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved.
  Songs of Solomon
  
  
  Minuet
  Three nights ago: I glance over to my younger sister sleeping on the sofa.
  
  I feel such an outpouring of love like probably only parents feel when they first hold their new-borns in their arms. At least I probably think thats how they feel.
  In that moment, I experience a sense of melancholy at the fact that I'm probably not going to have any children of my own.
  
  The moment grows into minutes- I abandon the tv sitcom we'd been watching and just look at this person, this person who resembles me in so many ways: Same eyes, same nose, same unruly hair and the same spark of mischief in her eyes.
  I love her very much. But in that moment, I'd die for her, quite literally.
  I want to protect her from all the hate, the discrimination and the disappointments she'll inevitably face in life but I know I can't.
  
  She opens her eyes, perhaps feeling my gaze. We study each other solemnly for a few seconds. She says sardonically: "You're creeping me out. Stop staring."
  The moment is broken.
  
  I smile and send her off to bed.
  
  She gets up and walks off...but then comes back to give me a little hug and kiss goodnight. This surpises me. We're usually never that sentimental.
  But perhaps she also feels the moment.
  
  She walks off.
  
  I see traces of my mother in her.
  
  
  Romanze-Andante
  A hug, a manly pounding of the shoulders to say hello.
  
  An exchange of mutual "Its so nice to see you again!"
  
  An uneasy few seconds of remembered conversations and deeds quickly dissolve into the never-forgotten camaraderie of best friends.
  
  Catching up with old friends, best friends is so much fun.
  
  Laughter flows easily, successes are toasted and acquaintances are dissected.
  
  Behind it all, though, there is the unspoken conversation waiting to happen.
  
  This lurking minefield is resolutely ignored. A mutual decision. Not referred to at all.
  
  Emotions are carefully hidden and masks of happiness put firmly in place.
  
  I'm able to turn my mind into a blank page or recite code in my head to stay distracted and deny the truth ... just so long as we're not touching.
  
  
  Finale
  At 19, I knew a guy who on the surface appeared to be obsessed with sports, girls and boozing.
  
  Underneath the macho layer was a guy who liked sports, men and boozing.
  
  I like this guy. I see him everday. A mirror reflection of me.

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes