Tag Archives: Friends

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

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I Don’t Belong


During my periodic monthly episodes of blood, increased hormones, life force and such taking over, I tend to get a bit gloomy, while becoming overrun by immaturity, not to mention, I write more carelessly than I like to admit throughout this instance.  So, if you’re looking for something thrilling, inspiring, and poetic or whatnot, you’ve come at the wrong time.  There’s no true significance in this entry, except that I’m venting.

Throughout the course of my life, I never thought I belonged anywhere.  There were things I’ve always enjoyed like reading, writing, receiving education, sex and being physically active.  And although I’m aware that one can be content and isolated away from the conventional world, sometimes I can’t help but wonder how would my mind and heart have been shaped like if I did feel I belonged to something?  Would I have felt less alone or more engaged to the world like how dreamers dream profusely of that lotto ticket?

I don’t belong to friends.  I have zero (doesn’t include the fabulous ones I have made online or the two ex-boyfriends in my real life that I consider to be like family).  Growing up, it was hard to blend in and follow the disgusting girls into their femininity and twin-like mirroring behavior.  I took pride in being a tomboy and in being an individual, whereas most appeared to benefit from being a replica of another, so it wasn’t a question why I was constantly the first to be flat-left in the blink of an eye.

I thought things would naturally get better once I got older because of better judgment.  Apparently not!  From the twenties, and into the early thirties (of where I am now), it seems I meet the wrong types of people.  Some of them believe friendship is about sugarcoating, living with illusions, and never involves the truth for personal enlightenment and growth.  So, I don’t belong to friends.

I don’t belong to family.  I only have one favorite aunt, whom I took after, to a small degree.  I’ve been working on my rapport with her for the past year because part of the new me is to be better acquainted with family, although I dislike nearly everyone in it.  It’s ironic; I believe the injustice of life has been slowly taking her away from me.

I digress, however.  Friends are a lot like family.  It involves fitting into a certain mold.  And it’s hard for me to be the type of person who can easily overlook their principles, values, beliefs in such a way where I can willingly blend in with the rest of my hypocritical family.  I haven’t been blessed with any true friend or relative.  I just keep bumping into the wrong people.  And why have the wrong people in my life, when it’s better to be true to myself and live within truth instead of a lie?

I don’t belong to fitness.  I work out faithfully.  I don’t eat clean majority of the time.  I don’t take numerous selfies.  I don’t buy expensive supplements.  I don’t feel the need to show off my body.  I don’t have the desire to inspire or motivate others because they usually fall short of my standards.  I no longer truly look up to the fitness professionals of the sport as role-models.  I don’t even have people in my circle who are diehard fans of training or weightlifting.

In a place of fitness and the gym, it’s my happy place and true religion.  But with the masses making a mockery out of fitness (mostly on the internet), where egos turn fit people into assholes and where asking for well-being guidance is replaced by a hand asking for money; I feel as if I’m further away from this sort of crowd and in my own ways, I feel more alone than ever.

I’m sure it’s all about the attitude and perception of mine and how I live in a matter-of-fact system.  Nevertheless, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t feel like I belong anywhere.  But please, don’t get me wrong, I love myself and I am who I am today because I never thought the grass was greener on the copycat’s side.  I never thought to fit readily into the methods of the conformist world which occupied family, friends or gyms I belonged to.

I just wonder..

-Pennington