Hmm

We are expecting some political unrest today, so it's not just another manic Monday. Consequently no outings today which suits me just fine, parce que i have been sick since yesterday! Bleugh!

I am not bed-ridden obviously since i am here :-D, but spending a lot of time there too, sur mon lit confortable, looking outta window at des arbres cocotiers. That gives me an opportunity to catch up on my reading, and i am hopeful that i will finish Camus today. Took me two continents and some days, but it's not one of your regular books. One must read and ponder. At this point i am pondering about what his battle is. Hmm. To be an Aristocrat or not to be an Aristocrat? Peut-être! Pas peut-être! I will have to ponder more.

I have been put on a gluten-free casein-free diet, which means half of my yumm food are gone. Now that blows!

Afternoon lull

Everything quiets down right about this time. And then it's business as usual. Yesterday we went to the rooftop to see the setting sun. It was lovely indeed. Vanilla sky, adorned with runaway kites and flocks of birds nest bound. I took some attempts at yoga but hey, the breeze was listless and so was i.

Someday i will take mr jones up there , il y a deux petites chambres sur le toit, but he says one will probably suffice. :-P

Sigh.

The coconut tree

The first things i see when i wake up these days are the blue sky and the tall coconut trees awash with nocturnal rain. It's one of my favorite scenes. Hmm, i think i formed a thing for the coconut trees at an early age when i read the following poem:

The coconut tree
Standing on its solitary leg
Towers over the others

It peeks into the sky
And wonders
One day i shall fly away altogether
Piercing the dark cloud

But alas
Where shall i find my wings.

And i would recite it over and over stressing on the sixth line. Hmm. Children are odd, n'est-ce pas?

Anywho, i peeked into my next book, This Side of Paradise, by Fitzgerald and feeling quite like the coconut tree. Perhaps i will start it tomorrow.

Je ne sais pas c'est quoi

It rained all last night, thunder and all. Consequently the weather is happy as a bride at the dawn, all doe-eyed and complacent, bruise marks here and there notwithstanding complacent. Now that makes me happy!

I had about 5 hours of sleep but feeling cool after yoga, shower and some delicious breakfast, if not calm and collected. I have been put in charge of some paperwork, and hello! Who here doesn't know that i hate paperwork! Hmm, we shall see about that. I think i will be sneaky and use my pick between two tasks trick! This rigmarole at hand makes me think of our perpetual desire to possess and how debilitating that can be in the long run. Let us all practise some detachment, shall we?

I feel bad about my infrequent posts and i promise to take the count up to 15 for August, just cause! :) What can i say, i have not much to vent about, it's summer time after all. But i already have an inkling as to how my next year is going to be. Ah, busy! I have been asked to consider a position, which if accepted will eat up a lot of my time. Hmm, it better not consume my already thin teaching time man! Well, supposedly the nomination came from the provost, and really, how can i say no? LOL

Ah, now for some secret thoughts of mine! Do you see me smiling? Cause i am. Chuckling, en fait. And now i am pondering. Indeed i am lost in thoughts. C'est quoi? I dunno, ask mr. jones! :-P Or perhaps, ask last night's storm.

Flying above myself.

What sign is my card?

I am reading Albert Camus' The Fall. In short, "the refrain of I, I , I". It's all very interesting! So far, i find him delightfully honest. I will let you know my final thoughts on his refrain, but right now i am more interested to find out what happened on that fateful night that he keeps alluding to.

My journey was horrible (Damn typhoon!) that involved a cramped plane and lots of running around. Anyway, i met one interesting character, who, lol, might just be mr. jones' neighbour if i am reading my alphabets right. So, it was easier to pass 19 hours of the 23 hours of air-time just chatting about him :-P.

Maintenant, ici, i am jet-lagged and sleeping at all weird hours. But, i am doing yoga without fail, hehe, although not on the roof-top. As for the other thing we talked about, i am managing. It will never make sense, and i will never accept it, but i will deal.

Steady

I am going home today.

But you won't be there.

You won't be there to greet me at the door or raise your hands to bless me. I won't hear your exuberant voice resonating through the house conveying your new topic of interest, i won't hear your tired tiny voice asking for a blanket when you fall asleep. Coming back home in pitch-dark night i won't see you waiting for us by the end of the road with your little flash-light. No more running after us with your fruit treats, or sitting me down and making me sing your favorite songs for hours at a stretch. No more. Your mansion of a house will stare at me with its numerous empty rooms, finished and unfinished, your little writing desk will still be sitting by the door, the clocks will be ticking as before.

There will be tears to greet me. But i will be strong.

For now, just for now, let me be weak for now. And let me ask you for strength. For i feel dead inside.

Aussi bien

Seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days...days blend in with one another until they become indistinguishable...

Nights smile, knowing it all along.

Never mind, never mind, never mind!

Et je pense... qu'est-ce que je pense?

Et toi?

Que penses-tu, que penses-tu, que penses-tu?

Ah sweet R, noble R, silly R... Que penses-tu, mon amie confiante? On que espére...Ah espoir, c'est une belle illusion...une amie inconstante, je le connais bien.

Ah, oui.

(Something's the matter, dunno what)

Comment ça va?

Moi, je suis triste aujourd'hui. Quelque peu. Mais je ne sais pas pourquoi. C'est vrai que monsieur jones fait une voyage maintenant, et il me manque, mais cette n'est pas la raison, pas vraiment.

Je pense que ma vie a devenue, ah, comme le dit, cela m'a quelque peu déçu. Je dois retourner à mon sanctuaire de maths. C'est là où je trouve ma paix. Et quelquefois seulement là.

Technology!

It was a laborious and painful endeavour. I am dizzy and my shoulder hurts from all the clicking. But finally i am spam free! This afternoon i finished scanning through and deleting the 4000 spam emails that landed in my work mailbox within the matter of an hour or two. ITS was no help and in fact confessed that the hackers are continually outsmarting them.

Damn hackers! Get a real job! If you have to grow weeds, then have the chops to grow the real ones, man! And not in my inbox either!!!

Define not

Is it too early in the morning to talk about love? Je ne sais pas! But i need to let the thought bubbles rise, so there!

What about it? Hmm. If i just go ahead and tell all, you may just wanna recoil from the sheer mush-factor, lol, primarily, cause it ain't yours. Perhaps you will also be a little green, actually a lot green, :-P, cause baby, it ain't yours! So i shall guise it in an objective sheath and propose to you instead.

Is love an addiction?

So croons Carla Bruni, la première dame de la France, in her newly out album quelq'un m'a dit comparing Nicolas Sarkozy (we hope) with the Columbian White. Okay, there is an image that i didn't need to have! But i digress.

I say not. One can and do get high on love. But it's not a sufficient descriptor. Sure, if what you are thinking of as love makes you a weaker person than you are, yet you can't give it up, it is an addiction. It is also most likely an infatuation. Get over it.

Is love a disease?

Ah! One can catch a disease, or be predisposed to it genetically. Indeed studies are beginning to associate addiction with a genetic predisposition. Either way, a virile disease will likely make you weaker if it doesn't kill you. Sorry, That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger does not apply here.

No, love is not a disease. You may feel blue and torn apart by love, much like being ravaged by some strong disease. But the symptom alone is not sufficient to encapsulate love.

Is love an euphoria?

This actually is linked to the first one, of course without the negative connotation. But the sheer monotony of a continuous high urges me to rather slate it as a disease.

So no.

C'est quoi puis?

Funny thing is, i don't feel a need to define it. Which is surprising given my analytical background and my omnipresent thirst for suitable definitions. So i guess i will eat my early promise and just tell you how it makes me feel. And then you can go ahead and extrapolate your definition, that is if you are not ick-ed out by the subjective proclamations to follow. :-P

Sometimes i am high, so high that i am above myself looking down at the earthly me in sheer amazement. Is that an addiction? Perhaps. But that's not all there is. Sometimes i am lost, so lost that i feel i will never be myself again. Is that the wrath of a disease? Could be. But that's not all there is. All the time i feel stronger than i ever was before. Feels like anything can be accomplished. Is that euphoria? Perhaps. But there is more.

As if someone has added a whole new dimension to my existence. I see things more clearly now. I understand. Through the fog that are the addiction, malady and elation, i am capable to see what's behind the paradox.

But i can't tell you in so many words. It is for one to experience.

Yay!

Well, i am kinda sleepy so this won't take long.

I will just say one thing. I won the Trial by Written Declaration!!!

Yippe-ki-ye *&^%$#$$% officer-on-bike, you lose! Vindication, baby!

Long live the pen!

Le zéphyr d'été

It was a scorching hot August day. But with the setting sun in came a beautiful breeze; all of a sudden in the most unpredictable fashion! Oh my! Perhaps it has lost its way! Its cool and soothing touch is making me homesick.

Oh, how i yearn for some summer rain!

Mountains of paperwork that came yesterday now lie in well sorted piles. I think i have tamed the beast, well, at least the deciphering part. Now for the application. Lol. Yep, i could easily see myself as a lawyer.

Oh man, this breeze is making me crazy with its sweet nimble touch, i would really like to enjoy it with someone special. Boo-hoo i can't. Darn distance!

Sigh. Perhaps i shall go for a walk.

La brise est très belle, mais je me sens seule et triste. :(

Une question

This morning i felt a certain need of order in my runaway summer schedule, so i allotted 4 to 5 pm for yoga (in my invisible calendar) among other things. However, as one can see, i am here instead. Well, what can i say, i would do anything to find an excuse for not doing yoga, hehe :) But, but, it's so constant, and i am so impatient, it's not a good combination, not really! Hmm, having said that, in a few weeks i would be traveling abroad and yoga will be my only form of exercise so i think i can cut myself some slack. Je dis! Ohm...on a pristine rooftop in the land of yoga as sun comes up, i bend in sun salutation and inhale the fresh morning air... lol, yeah right! When do i ever see mr. sun come up? Je te demande!

My french is progressing nicely, almost done with the third chapter. I have also started to watch des films en français, as the whole second year will be based on studying french films of various genres. Oh, je ne peux pas attendre!

I have been pondering about a somewhat serious but ubiquitous question. Why is it so hard for the children to perceive their parents as human beings (with normal human tendencies and inclinations, by which i mean romantic and/or sexual urges, lol)? The very existence of a child is rooted in a particular human attribute, the very attribute whose existence they would like to deny. Ironic, or simply ostrich like? A contextual discrimination practised by the best of the people irrespective of their age, creed or background. Pourquoi?

Francesca (Bridges of the Madison County) simply shrugs it off by saying "I know children have a tendency to think of their parents as rather asexual" which precedes her unabashed depiction of her affair with Kincaid in a letter to her children. An affair she thought of as "too strong, too beautiful" to die with her.

Indeed i do not know of any answer to this question of mine. At either end of the human spectrum. But i will be damned if i let it rule my feelings or my actions.

"But here there is no light"

It came as no surprise to me that the original title of Tender is the night was Richard Diver, a Romance. Granted, Keat's beautiful words do justice to the human conflicts so hauntingly painted by Fitzgerald,

"...tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light"

Yet the fact remains that it was his conflict. Dick Diver's.

I have to be honest, i was not enamored by the first part of the novel. Pas vraiment. It seemed like a rigmarole of loosely wound characters and the insight was lost in the details. Between Rosemary's childish advances, McKisco's self-pity, Abe North's death wish and Collis Clay's banal existence, i was beginning to summon up my reading mode à la feuielleter. Tommy Barban on the other hand was noteworthy with his almost naive courage and french aloofness and piqued my interest. Indeed he proved me right in the end with his assessment of Nicole's diagnosis as he looked down upon the profession of psychiatry as "bullying" or "taming of women".

"Why wouldn't they leave you in your natural state?" Barban demanded. "You are the most dramatic person i have ever known". This statement gave me pause. A real long one. And i wondered if Dick Diver ever understood Nicole the way Tommy Barban did.

Dick did love Nicole in his own way, yet at the same time dissecting her and lamenting her schizophrénie equally with a clinical dexterity and despair. "A wave of agony went over him. It was awful that such a fine tower should not be erected, only suspended, suspended from him". He guarded her from herself and the world, guarded the children and the world from her, even made some attempts at guarding his intelligence and professional equanimity, but he could not guard himself.

"But here there is no light."

I read the second and the third part with much amazement as i watched his beautiful character disintegrate at the alter of Nicole. The weight of the fine tower took its toll. Divorced at the end of the ten year long ordeal of love, hope and despair, he and his brilliant possibilities petered out into obscurity. Into the smaller and smaller towns of New York resembling a nested encapsulation of wells with increasing depths and diminishing radii.

Which left me with this question. Is it indeed possible to love someone who is tearing you apart? I suppose one can try. One always tries.

Until they are torn apart.

Juste un autre vendredi

Started my day with paperwork. Big mistake. Darn thing made me depressed. Boo-hoo.

Finally finished Tender is the night. Eh i dunno what to say, Dr. Diver. Hmm. Need more time to expand on that hmm. Perhaps tomorrow.

McCain is making me mad with his stupid videos. Quelle enfanterie!

Ah, je veux être quelque part, très très lointain.