Thai Terminal


friends

Written previously, recently revised.

We welcomed each other first with high spirited voices talking into our cell phones and waving from across the street like lost little kindergarten classmates.  Then we greeted like sisters with tight long bear-hugs in the same way we always have because there are a few things in life that never change.  I could hear her wailing happiness beating from her gut than her chest and out into the public and onto my ear.  I smile in her hair with immediate joy but reserved the sound of my joyfulness.

Xyza is an undercover mentor, a maternal-like figure, full of flashes of hippie love, extraordinary kindness and massive angelic light that illuminates from her aura.  I’m also an undercover mentor, half in age, full of loyal compassion, extraordinary hospitality and thoughtfulness that leave the innocent light on in the darkness of which I grow.

In the center of this embrace I reflect over our countless meet-ups and how it never fails, my constant awkwardness in the hub of sharing love and how despite iself, I’m genuinely able to digest her white magic, even if it leaves me depleted afterward.  Xyza looks tenderly beautiful with her strawberry blonde shoulder-length bob.  I compliment her on the new length when she declared, “I had a vision of myself twenty years from now, me with long gray hair and a flower in it off to the side.”

I love the visions she shares with me.

We settle in a Thai restaurant not far from her parked car.  Upon sitting, the server asks, “Are you tourists?”  “No”, we replied.  Xyza turns my way inching up her nose until it crinkles with a question, “How come everyone thinks I’m a tourist?  I was born in New York, but live just outside the city.  I guess.. because I travel a great deal.”  I nod in agreement and chimed, “Your aura never has that grounded feel from being in one place too long.”

But, with me it’s totally different; I’m a New Yorker who’s considerably considerate whereas I allow people to hit me with their bags as I stand overt with an introverted atmosphere on the train or bus.  Unlike Xyza, my roots are established in New York and it’s on display when I talk about my suspicions concerning the worldview.  I may come across as myopic, but I consider myself to be purely grounded.

Thirty minutes of conversation and I’ve been following Xyza’s lead because she’s paying so I never lay a finger on the menu.  The server comes over to nudge us politely – then Thai Chive Pancakes, Vegetable Spring Rolls and a glorious Mango Salad along with unsweetened ice tea lands sweetly before our eyes.  I continued following Xyza’s lead and didn’t touch a single carrot slinky.  I sat glued in passivity to the tales of my friend.

*

I listen to her speak about her ex-husband and how she’s pretty sure a demon owns him.  I listen when she said she knows of two men who have transcended beyond the physical and how they both married wonderful women, but not perfect women.  (It made me wonder, what constitutes a perfect woman according to a sixty-year old woman.)  I listen on in when she said she doesn’t want to play the romantic game from a male’s physical perspective, nor does she have any desire to play the woman’s perspective which is to trap a man in a relationship.  Of course, I agree.  I believe life is too short to live conventionally.

When Xyza decides to come up for air, I volunteer my own discourse.

I speak about isolation from the world and if canceling my gym membership is the wrong thing to do because at least this is a place where I can maintain some social skills.  I speak about having elevated to a place where physical sex is no longer an obligation of mine, nor is it ever a want.   I speak about the tiny things that make me happy like being by the water, the vision of living in a beach house single with two pets:  A husky dog and a petite cat.  I speak about not understanding the point of being in a relationship with men when being the opposite gender I’ve yet to connect and remain on the same wavelength.  I always feel superior.

*

We understood each other the way women and friends frequently do and we continued to eat, sip, laugh and talk the summery night away.

-Pennington

There


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And perhaps I was calling you on every single day of the year subconsciously.  There was an unrelenting chime in the air, a love attraction frequency of high desire on the balloon of my aura and on the ointment I placed on the nude of my wrists with your presence on it.  You changed over night with a hunger that consumed your own calmness and forced out your desperation at the temple of my being where I looked down on you for once my sweet giant.

But I remember being with this other guy, my temporary high in the backseat of a car and there a moonlit sky shining through the glass and the police and the skunks of the night patrolled both making their own rounds.  I was with an obsessive mature man posing his green werewolf eyes on the unclothed parts of my skin where he seared it with established longing for my youth.  We made out heavy covering the light of the moon with fog; our faces were flushed, our jaws wide open and our tongues jolting of wild electricity.

And he had this magical way of knowing how to bring me closer to him with just his fingertips on the ends of my hair.  Oh how he caressed my hair like a woman with softness like strolling with minimal clothing through a garden of delicate flower petals to feel the sensations of nature.  He was finding his way down, my shirt in custody by the mass of my breasts and he nibbled the entire space of my stomach grabbing onto the sides of my curves.  And I shook and shook in pleasure similar to the first time I received foreplay when I was twelve but I watched his own saliva strings at the corner of his mouth being overran by happiness.

Perhaps I was calling you on every single day of the year subconsciously as I do even now.  It’s why I feel you bother and visit me in my dreams on most nights.  Bet it’s why you called me at 4am, your maniacal self because just as I do, you feel me there.

-Pennington

The Months accumulating in Effect


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I’m putting myself out there more and by more I mean OBVIOUSLY more than usual and MORE personal than some emotional guy’s tongue buried deep inside my precious twat.

I could have started this entry back in November or the last week of December. But really everything seemed to trickle down for me in the beginning of the New Year where I got fired from my job because I had the courage to stand up for what I believe in and for never wavering my principles while keeping my integrity intact.

During this time for a moment I felt down in the dumps like I lost a childhood pet because there was a part of me that felt like perhaps I’ve fallen from grace. With this dark cloud over my head I began to feel ill every time I ate or didn’t for that matter. I found, mentally, I was no longer visualizing, planning, going to sleep, daydreaming or even thinking about my training sessions at the gym.

I became tired at the oddest of times and took naps every chance I got and shortly after I started to sleep up to 11-14 hours a day. Every morning cramps came (and still do) very suddenly like a knock on the door and it found its way into my aura with panic and spanking novelty. Then the headaches, they commenced at any which way and waved over me as if I were its safe harbor. I’ve never felt like this before. What is wrong with me? Could this clearly be depression? A deeply manic episode of sort?

I now look at water with disgust because in my mouth it swiftly tasted like metal. But I’ve been drinking nothing but water for years and over night my body is asking me for a Coke (or two) or Chocolate Milk. All I want is cheese and meat and maybe some potatoes. But my appetite changed on me and I couldn’t handle large portions anymore. Plus I’m horny all the time and haven’t the faintest idea how to turn it off.  I’ve been going full speed and giving the middle fingers to cruise control. Is this an identity crisis? Another transitional change of becoming thirty-two someone has forgot to tell me about?

I grew suspicious of myself. Once again my body betrayed me unexpectedly. What a cunning cunt! I’m being taken hostage; my body doesn’t feel like mine anymore. And I haven’t had a suicidal thought in a decade until tonight.

But I scheduled an appointment with a doctor.

To be continued.

-Pennington