Saturday, February 25, 2017

Past Tense

I was thinking about my past on this trip. So much to right about, so many stories. I have stories. But it sent me in a mood where I started to think about how I got here.

How did I make myself?

There is the tedious story about the troubled childhood and blah blah blah.

Stories that are nothing but blackness and horror and a sympathy for "How do you survive?" I honestly don't know.

There is the part of me that doesn't really know how I made myself, only that I refused to allow myself to become nothing. Maybe because I was to smart. Maybe hatred.

There is a wrongness to say that I hated my youth and those around me. People want to hear that you overcame because of love, or some internal grit that makes you pull yourself up by your boot straps. Persevere! Turn the other cheek. Be better than the bastards that want to get you down.

That's the thing. I don't know that I was better. But I was determined not to be the bastards. And to to do that, I had to be a bit of bastards. 25 years and several in therapy have mellowed all of it. I had to find some way to justify my own internal selfishness at the time.


Who am I now?

Not the bastards. I have found my own way in this world. I have compassion and empathy that I learned, but was never taught. I care about others.

And myself.

I still care about me.

In my making I became the person I most wanted to be. Someone who can appreciate the world which I have somehow clawed my way to the opportunity to explore.

Lima is humid. I've enjoyed my time here. I have stories more to tell.

Friday, February 24, 2017


It's always amusing to see people who are not real people talk about long walks on the beach and sunsets. So few people actually notice the sunset around them. Maybe once, they look up and see a pink or purple sky and think, 'how pretty' and take a picture and walk away.

There are times I plan my workdays around sunsets. In the hope I might catch one over a foriegn city at just the right time. I don't care if I get a picture or not. Sometimes there is music. Sometimes there is just me, watching the sky change colors, getting darker, getting deeper, getting closer to night.

The transition from my day self into who I really am. I feel all the time like darkness and I need each other. I can go about my work day, I can feel it, I can be the person that I am needed to be in that moment, but I live for escape into darkness, the person they do not know. The person that they will never meet.

Sometimes the lines blur. I feel the darkness outside and I start to let go but I'm still working. This is the worst time, when I might be too free of tongue or too light of spirit or too...Me.

Me is lost somewhere in the sunset.

It's not the sunset, really that I love to watch. It's the dark take over. That's where I want to be.