April is the season for the calm before the storm

Traditional Garden Statues And Yard Art

It’s been another one of those nights where everything seems slow moving and I felt almost decrepit with sanguinity.  It’s late at night and finding myself deep in the recesses of a friendly crowd, swirling a glass of ochre colored Riesling in my sweaty palms, someone’s voice permeates my foggy mindset….. “Hey, stop rearing goldfishes in your glass” they said to another within the crowd, as glasses were raised and filled yet again..

Across from me, one table away, drama was unfolding it seemed as it often does when groups of girls and boys sit in for a drink. Ribbing each other, the friendly crowd gave a reason why men and women drown their troubles in bottles of liquid gold.  A passive release from the worries of the day.

To some, understating the turmoil raging in their hearts.

An old Malay song from rocker AMY was playing in the hall to break the still of the night, broken by the staccatos of disemboweled conversation arising from the tables as we imbibed ourselves amidst smiles and guffaws as heads were bobbing and fingers a tapping in sync with the rhythm playing.

My mind was not with me although the night was still young , as visions of thumping beats and dancing with swaying sweaty bodies began its call to my wallet as if to distract me from the melancholy of the moment.

If I had stayed a little bit longer with the crowd, I would have broken down.
Just because. To get away from the disillusions. My mind wanders again to the sorrowful times.....

I don’t want to talk about it but could tell from her eyes that she’s been crying forever and all the stars and the moon in the sky meant nothing compared to the hurt that was felt. Glancing by the reflection on the mirror brought a face to a painful memory.  Like a fish totally ignorant of its “water,” I often fail to notice how colonized my consciousness has become by personal need and wants and how the resulting intimate reactions permeates the rest of my life.

Luckily writing allows me to vent. Through these typed alphabets, I alleviate my pain with nary a spoken word. Discussing matters of the heart need never be in a vacuum but we so fear  for name and prestige.
I've loved and lost before but the need never seems to cease.

Though no more a spring chicken, how is it we often find ourselves reverting to the same flawed rancid thoughts that caused us problems in the first place, where hearts and intimacy are concerned?  The desire to own is so overwhelming that it over rides basic thought and decency. Contrary to the claims of anthropocentrism (human centeredness) maintained solely by cultural inertia, man is not separate from nature.Respect and Responsibility  are not just mere words but must be earned and that means knowing what is Right and what is not.

It’s getting difficult to breathe some days as the desires grow stronger. But I shall resist.
Though middle age is like the calendar reaching August where everything seems more robust, we should know September ,October and November is coming near.

My desires have persisted and insisted but I continue to use my will to contain my ego. Contrary to the claims of anthropocentrism (human centeredness) maintained solely by current cultural inertia, man is not separate from nature. We need to be responsible. Family comes first.