Exerpts...

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The following words are exerpts from my personal diary.

March 15th 2006

In the distance a stray or kept dog barks steadily, seemingly guarding against the encroaching enemy.

The parallel between rats, cockroaches and humans is begging to be made by someone. All three capable of survival under the most dire circumstances with their habitat consisting of cement trees, paved rivers and the odd oasis of a rubbish pile doubling as lunch or dinner.
Even monkeys need trees and fresh air. Even the birds need a body of water to satisfy their thirst.

What satisfies my thirst? What is it that soothes and apeases the humans thirst when they are parched? A satisfying career? A rewarding and fulfilling job? Having good friends or a loving family? A tasty meal? True love? Is it all of these things or is it really none of these things? Or is it really that the only true peace humans can find is on the shore of the beach with an expensive drink in their hand? Maybe humans are so vast in their desires and wishes that it is impossible to ever quench their thirst for experiences. Or maybe we are as simple as to be fulfilled by something as clear as a tall cold glass of water on a hot day.

I saw peace today in a quick glimpse of forbidden chest hair on the body of a man I may lust after forever. Does this make me weak? Or just weak at the knees? My blatant desire for physical contact (hopefully not as obvious to the outside world as it blinds me) sometimes makes me shake my head.

Does anyone else have this? Is anyone else blinded by their desires… whether for sex, god, drugs or money that they find themselves helpless? And is one desire, any desire preferable or better than another?

I once dated a man who was in love with money. He did everything and anything he could in a career of success, working along side liars and thieves; but was alone and emotionally unavailable. I knew a woman who was so utterly involved in her family that she sacrificed her career, her love and her passion in life. I know a man who hates his job but does it so that his family can live a life of relative comfort and safety.

Is this the human condition? What separates us from the rats and the rodents? The ability to sacrifice our happiness and our peace for our desires? The ability to prioritize our lives into meaningful boxes? Is this the meaning of life?

Where is my muse? My solid wall to bounce my thoughts and ideas? I am staggeringly alone… a very long way from home… and desperate for a deep conversation about the meaning of life.

Instead I try to turn to music. The comforting tones of the same 163 songs I listen to on my MP3 player… day in and day out. They speak to my soul in clichés and catch phrases I’ve heard a thousand times. I want to be challenged! I want to be told that my ideas don’t make sense because…….. I want to be assured that life is more than walking down a dark hallway of commitments and sacrifices with the odd speed bump of a challenge to keep us on our toes.

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So I just spent the last hour talking long distance to good old friends on the phone (I seem to be making a lot of old friends lately). All that I managed to figure out is that I miss them, but not too much. That I realize that some friends are forever, and some are only friends for a limited time in your life, then each of you moves away to have other moments and meaningful experiences with other friends. Carla is an example of a friend I will keep in my heart forever whether she is in my life or not. Her imprint on me is one that can never be erased even though it has been almost 2 years since we last spoke a kind word to each other. This kind of friendship, although it hurts violently and deeply is a kind that I cherish. I think we learn more about ourselves and more about other people when we let ourselves love without restrictions or limitations.

March 16th 2006

I thought for a moment that I was losing my mind yesterday… but I think it’s the opposite. Trevor always says to me “Kick Saigon’s Ass Alisa” but I think that Saigon is instead kicking my ass - in a good way. Being distant helps me to think. It’s like being able to take a huge step back from my life and look at who and what I am. I am beginning to realize what is the most important thing in my life. (Okay, so I haven’t quite figured it out YET, but I’m working on it).

I realize that I’ve never actually been in love. I love people, but I’m not sure what it feels like to be ‘IN LOVE’ in the true textbook version of the term.

I know now that Ottawa wasn’t a bad city, but that I was bad to myself in it. I realize that I have not loved myself enough.

Here’s where Saigon is kicking my ass. I’ve gotta love myself here. No one else will. And I think I’m making progress.

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Comments

[Jenny]

WOW
Alisa, my dear cousin, I am so awed by your gift with words. I'm glad you are finding yourself. Good luck! I love you

[Essie(Esther)]

i knew i knew it..
i knew i knew that you would be a 'good writer'.. never loose the naked honesty in your writing.. here's to the dog, the cat and the beach front hottie thirsty for some lemonade .. you've touched saigon as much as its touched you..

[Kim a Montreal]

Kick ass
Aww Alisa, I'm so glad you're keeping up the blog...forget the pop cliches, they'll only ruin your soul. Keep writing, living and kicking ass.