How do I make myself care more, just how?
How do I make myself care more, just how?
No, it’s not something that I’m proud of; it never is, but some moments are so effing awkward, traumatic, yet thrilling that I have to write about it. The smell of sweat when you’re traveling alone for two straight days; running about here and there, trying to figure shit out while you follow rules less than seriously… it was my own mistake that rewarded me with an unplanned visit to China; the holy land of my dreams where giant fishes fly and the old wise men atop cloudy green hills smile to the tune of the guzheng. Where battery operated plastic swans scoot along a teeny little pool of water on a never not rainy morning. Before I got to think and see all that, I was busy freaking out at the airport in hopes that I don’t screw up international laws this time. Just sucking it all in, just taking it a bit more seriously than usual. I held my breath, took off my jacket and all the layers, and quickly tied my hair on top in a messy bun. For someone who’s always freezing, I sure as hell was blazing fire. My skin was flushed and shiny, my hair; black as raven. Glancing at the glass reflection of my self, I looked pretty alright stressed.
They served pop and water, so naturally, I drank water. Little did I realize that I hadn’t planned well considering that I hadn’t peed once that entire sixteen hours on the plane ride there. Nor, after being herded like a sheep (well I wasn’t, but it felt like it), did I get a moment to just find a bathroom ASAP. I had already made too many grave mistakes that landed me an unplanned stay in China, so I was determined to follow rules as strictly as possible now. All the assistants at the airport in China said hello they speak English but they didn’t understand what I was saying nor could I understand them. It was best for me to just be desperate and freak out so that I wouldn’t miss my van to the hotel.
Well, that’s when it happened. At the service counter, I realized I didn’t know if my hotel van was coming soon enough for me to hold it in, and I pissed on my self. I couldn’t stop it. The hell with the van; if I had to pay another penalty for not following orders in china, then so be it. I ran to the bathroom.
A nice old cleaning lady in the bathroom warned me that where I was running towards was a squat toilet for the locals, and pointed to me the pedestal commode in the next stall. Little did she know that all I ever wanted was to use a squat toilet. China goals… a big fat CHECKKk off the list. I pissed all over that squat toilet, but I cleaned it up.
Came back slightly cleaner and managed to catch my van to the hotel in time. What miracle that was.
Outside, China was drenched in cloudy sprinkling rain. Took every opportunity to take photos like a desperado.
Inside the hotel, the silence was extremely loud. It’s a very hallucinating feeling to stand amid silence after going through a series of constant stress. Maybe I was on the verge of fainting, I did have chronic low blood pressure (is it ’cause I just don’t really care about anything?), but I never had fainted in the past.
In that state of, “What’s real what’s not, I’m here, alright, let’s do things in a simple, orderly, robotic way” I laid all my important things like passport, tickets, and documents all lined up on one of the double beds. The absolutely necessary second thing that I did was take off all that armpit smelling, sweaty, drenched with pee clothing and stood in the middle of the room stark naked as an ultimate, mighty, free woman. There could be many highlights to one’s life, but being butt naked after running through hell fire in restrictive clothing, tops my list. It wasn’t only that, but I was also so present at that time. I did everything with a quiet mind in that silence. Dirty clothes went there, documents laid here. I fell back on that crisp white clean bed and was in a state of zen. A nice shower would be ideal, but I had to wear something quickly and run downstairs before they stopped serving breakfast. I had to check out Chinese breakfast in China. Then I’d come back, take a long shower, a loving sweet nap, and then explore the great outdoors of the little city a super happy and excited chick.
Lowlands that stay flat and go nowhere
Fields of yellow grain that flood with shallow, sparkling waters
Feelings that linger, barely touching
Dreams, like transparent images
Inconceivable echos surround
And I just cannot
Seem to exist in your world
When I was a kid, I reclined near the balcony door under the sunlight and overheard the veggie seller shout out vegetables he was selling for the day.
Such a lively thing it was; the crows were crowing… the birds were chirping, dogs barking, music playing, people talking, cars honking, kids yelling, bells ringing, whistles blowing… there were even monkeys screeching from trees somewhere.
I lived and thrived off noise.
It’s 2018, and I once more hear the vegetable seller repeatidly shout out the vegetables he’s selling as he walks down the sleepy neighborhood mid day.
I loved it, and I still love it. It makes me happy to know that some things haven’t changed since childhood… even though I’ve moved on and my realities have shifted.