Sunday, June 28, 2009

Path to the Past

It has been some time since I was asked .. or spoke of my past. Times before I returned to the First Fires. My childhood. There have been moments .. here and there someone cared enough to speak to me of these things. But it has been very rare and .. even rarer since I recently returned to my people.

Today I paused to speak to Tarra who was bathing her feet in the stream when I happened to stride by. She told me I had been in her thoughts because she had not seen me around much .. I told her I was staying very busy. She asked me specifically if "staying busy" was conscious decision and I was honest and told her yes .. indeed it was. She asked me if it helped and I told her .. yes it always did. It always helped to set my hands onto something solid and to shoulder hard work until I thought I could no longer move. She offered to listen .. that it might help me to share. I told her I did not even know if I could figure out how to speak of it all .. that most of it did not even make sense to me. She told me it sounded as if this was all about emotions and then asked me if I was afraid to feel what I might want. I told her that I was not afraid of feeling. That to feel is something I sought after .. that the way most people accomplish such easy tasks did not just work like that for me. She asked if I knew why .. and I told her I had some theories .. but nothing more. Theories .. faint images of what might be .. or could have been. But the fact remained that however interesting it was to theorize .. there was the ever present need to function with the way I am now.

She asked me if I was searching to find myself. I answered .. not exactly. I told her that I had myself .. what I was searching for was how to function with myself as best I could with those who do not function anywhere near as I do. That was the basic definition of social life for me .. the day to day example of what I dealt with. She said it is not easy to do that .. learn to function with those who do so differently. I told her I was doing much better at it these days than I ever had before. I had learned some things .. even if in some cases it was just to accept that things would ever be different.

She asked me about my childhood .. she told me she was aware I did not have a mother. It took me several moments before I spoke.

I told Tarra I was raised for the most part by two women. Two sisters .. Dubois and Aunt. I told I knew no other name for Aunt .. then Aunt. I told her before them .. there was nothing .. no one. No one I knew of or could remember. Logic tells me someone had to care for me as a baby .. but who that was I do not know. No one has ever told me. The times I could remember .. I was always alone.

My father began to visit .. for the first time when I was around three. There was only a few years of knowledge of him before he died. She asked me what kind of man my father was .. I told her he was lost .. and cruel. I said he might have been a different man before .. but of that I had no knowledge. She asked me if my father was cruel to me .. I told her ... of course. He knew no other way. All Tuchuk were cruel to me. That seemed to disturb her and she asked me why. I told her that I was an outcaste .. a bad omen. People were suspicious of me. After my father's death as a traitor they were even more so. There were no records of my father's name or his deeds. He was removed from the Songs .. from the Year Keeper's pegs.

Tarra commented that .. I was Tuchuk ... how could people treat me that way. I told her that we are a suspicious and superstitious people who believe in the words of Haruspex and rarely question. The Clan had marked me as darkness .. a shadow ... a curse. It is rare that a Tuchuk will tempt the omens read or the words said. And so it was that they did not. They were afraid to have me at their fires .. to treat me with kindness .. to tempt the Sky against them for any small act of kindness afforded.

She asked me if my life was affected by the Clan. If all this perhaps made me a stronger .. for the things I was to do. I pondered her words for some time before I responded. I said .. stronger? Yes I could see that I was stronger in some ways .. I had made hard and cruel rules for survival ... but it had also left me without attachments to people. Without the easy ability to do so .. and whether that was a strength or a weakness was up for theoretical debate.

she said .. "It depends on how you look at it, I think in one way it is a benefit you don't get bogged down or drown in those emotions that can cloudyour vision, and yet in another way I think that it is not so good for youforget how to feel without question, to experience that unconditional support or love of another wether it is a friend or more."

I told her I could not miss .. what I had never had. Though the theory of what she presented was attractive to me. What appeared to be so easy for most .. did appeal to me.

She told me that I had friends no matter how I felt. I told her I knew this .. that I did appreciate it. That I did not discount what I had .. I simply thought about and felt about it a little differently than others. Defined it differently. My scope of vision was different.

She asked me how I had come to be with Oren .. I told her about my friendship with Pacu. That slowly I had grown close to the family and I had been through much with him. My tragedies .. their tragedies.

She asked me if Oren was my teacher in the Clan .. I was surprised and told her no .. Oren was an Artisan Elder. Those who had taught me in the Clan were Aunt and Dubois.

She was just asking me to give her a run down of what they had taught me when Mezoo arrived .. then Yamka. Our conversation became less personal then. Drifted to things that included everyone else.

They spoke of a celebration to be the next night. Of a young warrior Yamka had met and Tarra was teasing her a little of flirting with.

Mezoo was talking about the celebration to Yamka encouraging her to come .. the mating of Hanse and Jessenia .. about how it would be nice to wish them well together. I caught myself staring at her .. for my own reasons. Making a decision there and then I would probably avoid the fires during such.

Not because I did not wish them well .. but because things were a little too raw yet for me. My mood a little too dark for a celebrations of such things. It was better to keep that from others right now.

Yamka got my attention by speaking of seeing her father .. of a narrow escape and hiding out in someone else's camp. I told her she needed to speak to Ay of such things .. she said she would if she could get his attention. I told to make sure she got his attention. What she had to speak to him of was the safety of one of the First Fires .. that he would wish to know as soon as possible. She said she would wait for the celebration to be over and then try to find him. I told her she would find him as soon as possible. Celebration or no celebration. After she gave me her word she would do so .. I rose and told the others to be well and left to continue my walk.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Split Identity

Well I can't believe what I've done
Unlock the door to my secret place
thrust onto me with arrows to my heart
the inevitable, my soul's ripped apart

Fascination once again controls me
It's like a wish, a dream, a nightmare-before me
The fears of the joy torture my emotion
Why can't this bliss last forever more?

And I, can't stand the thought of life
spent without your wicked eyes
spent without our precious fights
spent without your tainted lies
spent without a restless night

I dwell upon the moment when you beg for a kiss
hesitation...I know what it is
It runs in circles in my mind
Which man to blame in me? I'll never find...

And I, can't stand the thought of life
spent without your wicked eyes
spent without our precious fights
spent without your tainted lies
spent without a restless night
spent without your love in mine...

Share this poison with me...

*Razed in Black



Time.

A lot of time.

Throwing myself into what I do best. Work. There was always something that needed done. There were plenty of tasks I could put my hands and muscle to. There was never a lack of it around here. It filled my days and nights. If I was willing to do it .. there was something to do. I barely slept. Sleeping was time to think. Thinking was not in my best interest.

Not a line I usually use.

Not a place I usually find myself. Where thinking can not solve. Where going over and over something does not help. Where searching around inside myself just does not a damn bit of good except to make me feel insane.

That left .. work.

And I was getting a lot done. Half of what I needed to get done before the move North. I was far ahead of schedule and well on my way to being prepared long before I needed to be. Of course .. any time I did that there were a myriad of things that happened that made it inconsequential.

I was leaning on the kaiila pen rails .. one boot suspended with the heel braced when I was hit .. tackled with a hug. That was the first layer peeled away.

How many layers had I been able to brick up? More than she was able to get through. It breaks my heart to stand on the other side of the wall and watch her tear her fingers apart. I wish I could reach across and make it all .. different. I want to reach .. to feel again that connection. What happens when I feel her .. when I know. When I am so sure and so elated. When she enters my veins like a blessed memory of an epic high. A rush that takes me places I forgot I had the ability to go. That reveals things I forgot I believed in. It is mental .. it is physical ... it is spiritual .... it is a drug. I think it is natural .. but part of me accuses it of being synthetic .. crafted and designed purely for my demise.

But there is only part of me that wishes to do so. To find that again. The other part of me is feeling a little safer .. a little more comfortable ... a little more stable .... on this side of the wall.

The wall is normal for me. The other is not. The wall is known. The feelings .. are the unknown. The safety is the well worn path of habitual apathy. The emotions are heights and depths and chaotic rainbows of color that do not stay within their appointed lines of necessary logic. They bleed and retch their internal angst all over my well arranged rules like acid on organic material .. eating away at the very fabric of my time and space and opening up to me the universe of possibilities. Possibilities that do not make me feel better .. do not give me my illusion of control. Instead they spell out how insignificant I really am. How easily my own heartache and pain is orchestrated by powers beyond my control. How impossible it is to build enough walls .. to build them high enough ... to remain in such denial of reality.

Realities of guttural moanings and seeping sores .. fevered weeping and the stench of septic disease that rots to my very bones. My own lies .. lies of others I have built upon. The upheaval of all that I know and worship ... as the once solid place I stood upon breaks apart and crumbles beneath the Sky. A Sky I am more than comfortable to hate .. despise ... and respect for the sadistic gestures it has .. blessed ... upon me.

I fight for my beliefs .. my lies. My security. My comfort.

At my own expense.

At her expense.

I go on about my feelings .. my comfort .. my heart ... and yet I barely recognize what I am doing to her. What it feels like to be her .. to deal with me. To deal with my inconsistencies. My seeming inarguable logic. How easy it would be for her to step aside and wait for me to figure all this out .. or even walk away completely. And yet she does not .. perhaps she knows that space ... is the worst thing for any of my relationships. No matter what I claim.

It leaves me .. torn in two. This war within.

And I do not know which man ... will win.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

When Words Fail

Seeing Seveya at the fires .. was hard. Harder than I thought it would be. When we were apart .. when she was not there I was rather successful in convincing myself it was all over and I could and would be able to package and put away how I felt .. what I knew. Put it in a chest and shove it into the corner.

I am very good at that .. an expert. Locking away my feelings. Making ornaments out of them and setting them on a shelf .. for viewing from a distance. I have frustrated my share of women with that ability. To offer nothing but an apathetic veneer .. a frore shield that nothing seems capable of penetrating.

Anger .. is the first connection to all those ornaments .. all those packaged up emotions. Most do not get passed the anger .. the frustrations.

I was doing just fine with her at the fires .. doing just fine ignoring the entire thing and just being .. me. That is until she touched me. Touched my hand. All that electricity jump started and blew apart all my best intentions. Flickered through my conscious like a distant summer storm along the horizon. It made me jumpy .. irritable. This was not what I wanted .. it was not what I needed. Surely it could not be what she needed. This torture .. this half life ... this marginal existence.

I had no hope of it ever changing. Had I not .. myself ... pronounced the death sentence? Had I not spoken the very ending of it all into existence by giving Ayguili my word I would not speak of the bride price again until I could speak of love? Did Ayguili actually believe I would ever be able to do that? It was not exactly pertinent that he understand me. We do not sit around the fire and talk as friends about our emotions. I think that would be as abhorrent to him as it is to me. So what was left?

For me? I had put things away before. Even things as intense as this. Especially things as intense as this. I had set them free .. locked how I felt and who I was far enough away that ... it was never touched again. Never allowed to impact or hurt .. again. So I knew I could .. I had done it before.

For her? I hoped that as soon as she realized .. as soon as she came up hard against that wall I was building that she would walk away. Realize I was not who or what she believed I was. That she would heal .. move on. In time be open to other relationships .. other men.

Why? Why would I give up? Because I know my ability .. my limitations ... I know I can not offer what Ayguili demands be offered. I know I do not wish to live in this marginal place.

I want all .. or nothing.

I am such a fucking selfish bastard .. but at least I know what I want. There is a part of me .. that believes that Seveya ... would have me no other way despite what that might spell to our relationship.

I knew I was hurting her .. I knew I was devastating her. I knew I was acting one way when she was with me and different there at the fires. Did she think I was ashamed of her? Did she think I was not willing for all to know how I felt? When I walked away these thoughts plagued me .. tortured me. What kind of man was I?

I could walk away and leave her with all those doubts and cuts in her heart which would work towards my own ends .. or ... I could turn around and try to make it right. Try to tell her .. try to apologize for getting so wrapped up in my own desires/frustrations/fears that I was acting like two different men. Which would negate the ends I was trying to reach but would be more honorable .. more truthful.

fuck

I hate it when someone makes me want to be good. It is always a giant pain in my ass.

So my direction was in this slow arc ... returning towards her wagon and I paused in the shadows on the far side away from the fires and I took out the small bone flute and I started playing a few simple quiet notes with it.

When the words failed me .. I turned to the simplicity of the music.

It worked .. I lured her out onto the platform.

She said .. "You came back."

I answered .."I hurt you."

She asked me .. if it was that I wished for her not to touch her at the fires. I winced ... I knew that was where she would go with it. I told her .. that it was not true. I tried to explain it all to her. How hard it was. How does a man act .. when he is given a bride price he can not pay? What does he do .. with how he feels ... what he wants. How does he treat the woman ... that can not be his. I was not sure .. how to be ... this half man.

And .. I know this is probably all natural and normal to anyone else. That there is probably some growth that happens that allows a man to feel without taking. To know without possession. But I have never learned that. Once I know .. I must have. If I can not have .. I must forget.

I do not think she understands. How could she? I am not sure I do.

She eased off the platform into my arms and it was not in me to push her away. I wrapped her up in my embrace and I simply held her close .. though I did ask her if she was trying to prove to me how bad I was sucking at putting it all away and not connecting with it. She agreed that perhaps that was her intention.

figures

She did ask me what I needed from her. I told her truthfully .. I did not lie. I told her I needed her to be who she was. Without thought to my comfort or anyone else's. That despite the fact I was telling her about my struggles .. I did not want her to solve them for me. I wanted to figure this out. I wanted to be able to do it .. myself ... without my frustrations changing who she was. That .. is what I wanted. That is what I needed from her.

It is a lot to ask.

It is more than I deserve.