no more affairs

ch ch ch ch
changes

her hand embraced her
other hand and then
both of the hands danced
on her knee
and she smiled
for she got
it.

silence of the possibilities

none of the recent new years (the one on 1st and the one which started today)

didn't actually make me glide into it

it was more like
punch
slap
kick
                    hold on

brace yourself

slap

kick

punch

here, have a  few episodes of late night cathartic sobbing 

for times past and the fear of the times to come

brace yourself

and dance with someone who understands why one of your names is aku
and dance away

pretend you are interested
and that all of it is interesting
and make sure your seat belt is fastened
for we are taking off.

the new years took off

in a storm

the wheels creeked

and the wings almost broke

but now i see the sky

from the above.

bracing myself

talking unsayable

reaching the space

between the chaos narratives

and redemption ones.

wishing all the best

being ready to brace again

if needed. 

after the happy end

intro:

i have six sisters. between seven of us, we have three mothers and two fathers. the youngest and me share the mother, five others and me share a father, two of them have one mother, three another. geographically, we live in four places. one at place1, the other at place2, two at place3 and three at place4.
two of us spent most of our lives at Balkans, the rest are Western.

this is not a "guess who lives where and who share which parent" riddle. i don't give out too many details because i do care about privacy. and ethics.

this is an immediate family situation.

i spent most of my life searching for my family members and voila! unimaginable ("if they wanted to find you they would do so so far"- a very sarcastic friend whom i send two fingers at this occasion) happened! i know all of my sisters [whom i knew about- mind you, my father seems to like making children around the world].

two of them i met ten years ago. for the first time i saw someone who looks like me. despite the fact we talked in different languages and were products of different cultures, it meant a lot to me. we consequently lost touch, than been in touch for a while, then lost touch again and now one of them is back in the game with the other soon to follow (we are to meet in new year, or so she suggested).

three of them i met two years ago. for the first time, i found the living and breathing proof that stuff can work out for [yes yes i know its half of] my genetic make-up. they grew up without our father as well, and ..well.. they are three extraordinary women who welcomed me with their arms and hearts open in their homes and lives. we are still in touch and i have an open invite to visit them whenever i want. i saw them once since, but kept in touch and the last christmas i sent four "happy christmas, sister" cards. for the first time in my life, again.

happy end, right?
riiiiight...


end of intro

where do we go from there?

how do you incorporate twenty new members in the immediate family (this is where husbands and children come in)... especially if those are the ones you are supposed to know all about, love and hate, and had deep relationship with.. like i have with the youngest, who did grew up with me?

for you don't think of calling them when you have a problem (despite the fact you think they might actually help, even better than your usual support group for they do have much more experience in the matter).. as you are not sure it would be appropriate ("hey, she just met us and is calling us to help")- but then culture and beliefs kick in and tell you there is no one more appropriate to call than family, right?

riiight.

try googling it.

right.not even wikipedia has something on it.

and i really really like my sisters. i also do not want to disturb them. and being who i am, i do like to know what is a right thing to do. except that in this situation i am the one who has a chance to actually institutionalize the "right thing to do"[by doing the doctorate on a subject]. I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THAT!!! there. a wee bit of anger out. does miracles to the well being.

we did not share culture. i've been through one war more, for a start. and one set of sanctions. they beat me up in the matter of childbirth [i can't wait to be mother, but i am not one yet]. we are
so
different.

we did not grew up in the same place, do not think in the same language, not the same songs are embodied in our growing up oh and yes... we did not share the presence of out parents. so basically, we are strangers who coincidentally met.

but then i look at their faces. and realize i think that their children are so much more adorable than all the children in the world. and am happy when i see them smiling. the times spent with them are... special and unique and above all different than times with everyone else.

i have friends from all sides of world and from all the walks of life. just to make a point clearer.

i have six sisters.

i knew about them all of my life, and only recently i added true life experience to it. i still have no words to explain how that feels- and how much that means to me. despite the fact i do not know what is a right thing to do. despite the fact i might never find out.

i respect their privacy, but one thing i can tell you: my sisters are fucking amazing.

all of them. one is the best hugger in the world, one did thing she was most afraid in order to raise money for charity in her moment of need, one rose from the ashes to make it a zillion times better for herself, one welcomed a total stranger claiming to be her sister in her family home with two toddlers, one shared the intimate story about life changing experience with me and one picked up a phone on christmas day to tell me i should come over.

and that's why is important for me to do the right thing. unfortunately, raised as an only child for the first 15 years of my life, i have hard time in the role of a sibling.

but i write a blog.

and i will keep this posted.

I felt a wee bit guilty

I thought: people blog about all kinds of important .. generally important.. issues

for example: 

feminism.

living a better life

how is it to be "cryo-child"

adoption

music

to name a few.

I do this doctorate thing and I blog about

my internal processes of learning to live with myself in the world

and patches of the worlds 

ummm... yes, self-feckin-indulgent.

and not even in the right form

but as a patchwork of thoughts

of no prescriptive value.

what a lousy psychologist i make.

blog-wise.

The rocking of boats and the making of mirrors/excerpt

the body: 

still but moving.

boundaried and overflowing
dropping
hints

of the rides on the inside.

eyes see different colours

shadows form different contours

from yesterday and the day before

---------------------------------------------------

did you get that?

no?

yes i know

you missed out on many many moments

many many turning points

i could whirl and jump now

but i can't

won't

be bothered to stop my clocks again

so you can follow the show on  your own pace

sorry hun

i love you i do

but i am tired now:

i let the clown go home

and take the make-up off

the personality which emerged

i hugged it and felt it and bed it- here it writes.

you are still in the audience

on the left hand side of the ring

munching popcorn and playing with your phone in the breaks

thinking i do not notice

that you have more interesting stuff to do

than watching me playing truth or dare

with dreamlike creatures emerging from my bones

i understand.

it is not your life your story your truth

but it still makes me sad.

me, boundaried and overflowing

reaching from inside

--------------------------------------------------

damn!

i won.

hello

Yes.

I thought it was about time to say hello.

Hello.

We didn't speak for a while. Believe me, I didn't forget. It is hard to forget. But remembering often does me in. 

I am well. In the reference system you are used to, I am more than good. Compared to the people-space we shared, I am amazing. From the seat of embodied expectations..let's just not talk about it for the time being. 

I am far away, but the inside-me still needs time to catch up. It will, eventually. The tent I used to carry on my back and which almost turned me into a hunchback turned into a cloak. It is hanged by the side of my bed. I carefully put it on whenever time comes to travel. But, in the meantime, I stay.

It was strange in the beginning, but I think I am slowly getting used to it now. I lie, yes. But I do think labour pains of root- growing are about to pass. I see stuff in the new light.

I speak too vague, yes. Ok.

I have four jobs and one full time doctorate. I know how to make amazing raspberry merengue and up to 17 other meals without using a recipe. I live with a good friend in two bed room one red sofa apartment in the centre of Bristol. We watch movies on projector almost every night. I still spend more money on books than on clothes. It took me 3 days to finish first two books of 1Q84 and I ordered a 3rd on Amazon. It is due to arrive next Wednesday.

     

The weather is crap. I didn't feel summer for a few years now. But I visited Morocco last June and tried to make up for it in 45 degrees Celsius. Didn't really work. But I danced in the desert and rode a camel without fear.

Fear, yes. Guess that's what is different. It melted, through the days of non-summer and people from distant places. Friday nights behind the bar, Sundays in the office and cuddling with lovers I chose made it disappear. When I was in Belgrade last time a friend commented on how I lost it. It is weird to live without it, to be able to sleep through the night and not to have panic attacks. Labor pains, again. 

  

Anyway: Hello.

 I know my English is not perfect

but I found some good proof readers for the official documents

it works for me.

English is perfect to hide behind it

though

And explain, without having to feel

The words of our native languages are engraved in our endocrinology, as well. Not just neural networks. I learned that, too. Ever thought about it? Try it once, when you have time.

Or two. 

I will keep updating this letter.

Now it is late and I need to go.

To dissolve in the different world

yes

and shape some other stories

this story was same too many too many days

that's why I stopped by

to poke you in the back

with 

Hello.

damn i like the way you move

body is a tricky thing
and the words catch only a glimpse of it
the numbers as well, yes.
anything paper or screen can capture
it is never the whole flow

no.

i write because you will never see me

dance in the darkness

i would never let you see me 

it is mine private personal special and unique

it is body talking

and behaving

in the not-quite-translatable medium

of place space and time

(usually one digit

always a.m.)

body is a tricky thing

to understand without movement

but also: to grasp without audience

is it not?

yes yes i hear you

anatomy and physiology and endocrinology and the rest of 

all-ogies

[heh, technologies]

you can study it

but only among the other bodies

it gets the power

the drive

the purpose, if you like it

and, the most importantly

the meaning.

i never knew how different i look

until i met my sisters

who looked like nothing

i saw before

i met  the first lot when i was 20

and the rest when i was 28

my tricky thing

plays its tricks on me

like a magician

and it never reveals all of them

and it always picks its audience carefully

and it always leaves the trace of wonder

when it retreats to sleep

and lets the mind take over

like a river to the ocean

samo na cas.

unsayable is

what lingers between the layers

unwilling to bind

to rational request

in the darkness

between the thoughts

the woman reads the book

page by page

whole afternoon

the man builds the wall

brick by brick

at the same time

in the silence

between the words

the voices echo

through the towns and cities

the music penetrates

the corners of the room

in the looks

between the glances

the castles of the air

grow roots in tones

the anchors float

among the waves

of the flood.

it will come

it has happened