Monthly Archives: July 2015

My memories are endless…and vivid. However I have selected memory in cases where events proved too painful, but after my stoic “enlightenment” even those episodes became far and few.

The selected few that know me….of sort…will attest to that I am not as stoic as I want to see myself. After all I operate as a free agent and only swear allegiances – when necessary – to the highest bidder. And although I sought composure for most of the last two years, pain….both physical and emotional…turned me into the Devil herself.

But so we grow, then regress, only to realise where we faltered and we pull ourselves up and continue our journey. Perhaps I am the exception, so please don’t ask me where I am going. It’s possibly the only thing I don’t have an adequate answer to. But if you decide to ask nevertheless, then point me in the direction of Sunset Blvd. It’s the only place with some certainty I know will be devoid of zenith.

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The sun is setting, I am naked to the elements…and utterly free

My birthday has in so far lasted a week – a trip to France, dinners with friends and a present from a dear friend who knows I am a connoisseur of lingerie. It’s one of those items that fall right in between that of pretty and beautiful. I suppose I can say pretty when newly purchased and the white lace is still pristine. Beautiful, when over used but as the quality is exquisite the well worn and worn out adds just an interesting dimension to intimate encounters.

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lise charmel, aubade, la perla….amusements for a woman

It’s still raining, the fireplace is blazing, and I’m in my PJ’s having cleared up what I needed to. Somehow it feels like summer got sidetracked. Instead I find my solace in the hauntingly beautiful voice of Cesaria Evora. For now there is only a business plan to tackle and then bedtime. Tomorrow is another day and mine is filled with meetings. Life has commenced at last…

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Day by day, step by step…things are getting better. On a good note today is my last day on antibiotics and I’m almost back to my full training program. I have almost cleared my inbox (will take me most the evening though) and in a moment I shall be spoiling myself with a glass of wine to celebrate these small accomplishments, however minute and inconsequential…

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pretty flowers – thank you. Perhaps I don’t say it frequently enough…

The weather has turned into autumn. I just arrived at the office soaked and cold. Predictions don’t look to be any better but plans for some sunshine are in the make. In the meantime, I am withdrawing to my winter persona….slightly aloof and on the periphery retiring to candles and fireplaces.

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Breakfast on the way to the office

… is not over yet.

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carnivore for a weekend

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grand dessert to celebrate in style

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…with my girl

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late lunch so I opted for a nap. Just woke up after a strange dream…

And so summer moved with both swiftness and finality. The days weather decided to mimic the expectations July promised, was I either bed ridden at home or in the hospital. And the days I felt energy getting replenished, the storms, clouds and rain drew in over the low countries. I remained as pale as the spirits stalking my dreams.

Eventually the wound healed and the pain transitioned into a faint memory. I started training, eating, consuming life that had beguiled and tempted me but never getting close enough to extend its hand. I was on the way back. I don’t think I realised I was approaching the annual birthday until a few days before. But celebration came, dinners, birthday presents, champagne and flowers.

What a year.

H reminded me….what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Now did it?

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Waking up….my skin has taken on a translucent grey….Did I tell you I need a holiday?

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Birthday flowers…

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…presents for the bday girl

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…more gorgeous flowersFullSizeRender

…and cake for a special morning

You lie on a wrinkled sheet in a nondescript room. The blinds have seen better days and filter through chunks of daylight through missing slats. You light a cigarette even though he detests your habit. He’s begged and pleaded with you to give it up but you resolutely object to his requests. Nicotine is what your veins need, that along with half-a-bottle-a-day habit of Champagne. For the rest you are adaptable. You live in a dump, although your mind is fixed on a set of objectives which never really altered since childhood.

“You know…”
You let the last word hang whilst zooming in on that crumbling blind.

“…there is a vast difference between Pretty and that of Beautiful.”

You feel his stare but instead you take another drag and continue gazing from your vantage point.

“It’s a state of mind.” he retorts

“No. That it is not.” you counter, oblivious if you are hurting his feelings with your abrupt retaliation.

“Pretty is a quality that is pleasing to the eye. Charming, delightful…it is perfect in many ways, but lack depths.”

You stub out the fag before continuing.

“Beautiful on the other hand is alluring, possessing. It often pretends to be pretty. A neoclassical facade that now has ended up on the wrong side of town. In the darkness it looks as ever so pretty as centuries ago, but step a little closer and you’ll discover it is now used as a pissoir to the drunken plebs that stalk the alley at night. Beautiful is the over-amorous couple who couple against the building’s sidewall, not even taking notice to the graffiti-covered sidewall that now provides for improvised support. Now that is beautiful.”

He scans you, yet remains silent. You see it as a queue to finish off the story.

“You see I want my house to be pretty, my clothes to be pretty, even my perfumes….well some. Coming to think of it they unequivocally belong to the ranks of the Beautiful. As for the rest I only desire Beauty.”

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It took you a long time to write. What do you say? After all those months, and all those governmental institutions that knows fuck all. Well that was your opinion anyways. And their judgements equally so. Just an opinion.

The doctors and nurses had entered and left in your hazy morphine marinated mind. Some were good, others less impressive. But time passed and one day you were pain free. The first day you were confused. Your raison d’être a faint memory, and if you thought about it, it didn’t hold true any longer anyhow. The first day you cried. You had gone from one nightmare to another. You wept for most of the day….like a child who just lost her favourite toy. You  ate little, yet managed to find time to work out some basic stratagems. You slept on it…badly. Nightmares plagued your dreams. The next day was better. You meditated and it became once more clear. Your philosophy had stood the test of time. Of course it had for thousands of years, so a little bit of personal misfortune would not constitute a problem of any sizable degree. So you met up, you talked, you listened and you digested. Another 24 hours and you are still walking the path. Treading carefully but soon you will run. Let’s just hope that the weather stays glorious.

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Mississippi is not that far after all

 

In hindsight pain is quite an intimate friend and comrade – but in the moments of utter anguish I wish I had better allies. Without wanting to claiming my victory in advance today is one of the first days I have been pain free since April. The stone is out (it’s broken in a number of pieces and they shall for sure take pride of place in my own cabinet of curiosities).

Tonight is my last night in the hospital. I should have been out earlier but infection and fever set in and alas I am still here…

But I am feeling better than ever and even I can sense the old sense of Susanne breaking though. It’s just a matter of time…

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happy as a lark despite being hooked up to an IV for 4 days and no shower. But who cares when friends and family came for a cheer-up visit 🙂