It's been 3 weeks since my last confession.
I have been avoiding electronic devices in an almost plague-like manner, stopped taking pictures, and started having pure, unadulterated experience.
It's been nice.
However, as I am about to head to Laos and hop on a rickety wooden boat to float down the Mighty (flooding) Mekong river, I figure I'd better post while the posting's good.
I just got out of an 8-day silent meditation retreat at Wat Rampoeng, on top of a mountain outside of Chiang Mai. I spent my days walking reeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllly rrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyyyy slowly then sitting down and closing my eyes for extended periods of time.
It ain't so easy as it sounds, yo!
Here are a few haikus I wrote before I went off the pen (and thanks to all y'all who responded in kind!).
Blingy Blingy Wat
Golden-Jeweled Dragons guarding
the gate to Shinesville
Floppy Neck Karen
When Long Neck Karen
removes gold coils she becomes
Floppy Neck Karen
The bamboo larva
doesn't squirt juice in my mouth
like stir-fried silk worms
If all pies have fruit,
And chiken pot pie exists,
Chicken Pot's a fruit!
Last night I had an
inappropriate sex dream
about someone's dad
More Dubious Wisdom from Gypsy Grandma
Atlantis rises 10.10.
Bangkok Fish Market
Wading in fish juice.
Doomed frogs half-heartedly hop,
bound by plastic bins
Skinned rat carcass beams
from Ayuttaya food stall...
And now for something (sort of) completely different:
I had a really fucked up dream the other night while I was at the monastery. You're not allowed to read, write, talk, or otherwise distract yourself, so the subconscious goes ape-shit!I would change the names to protect the innocent/guilty/myself, but ain't gonna. Ha!
So I'm in an auditorium, on the stage with my mom and there's a bunch of people seated in the audience, like maybe 50 or 75. My old boss strides up to me all smirky-like, and tells me that he has been advertising this event, and that said event is to be me talking about me for an hour or so. After sharing this news with me, he walks away.
I have been totally ambushed.
I have horrible stage fright, y'all - even speaking in front of 2 or 3 strangers scares the shit out of me, never mind a whole auditorium full of them.
I've got not choice but to forge ahead. I turn to my mom, who's still on stage with me, and eye-plead for her to HELP! me. She suggests that I start by asking the audience to say something about me so I have a jumping off place for an impromptu speech.
So I go up to the dais and gingerly make this request into the microphone.
So I turn to her - you got me into this, now get me out! So she goes up to the dais and shares that she was hanging out with a couple of acquaintances of mine the other night, and that "they like her more than they think they do"!
I am scheduled for execution, along with another woman and two men. We are marched into the execution room, where four identical hopsital beds are lined up in a row, with four poison-filled IV bags next to them, waiting to be pumped into our veins.
Just before the injection of the needle, a phone rings. The 'you-just-got-yourself-a-pardon, partner' phone. So we all get up and go to the phone. It's for one of the men, who puts it to his ear, listens for a minute, hangs up, and says "I'm outta here, suckers!". He's been set free, won the stay-of-execution lottery.
The rest of us are not so fortunate.
We are marched back to our death beds.
I think about resisting, but I know it will do no good, will only agitate me, and I'd rather not be agitated and hysterical when I die, thank you.
I am strapped into the bed, and wake up right before the needle hits my vein.
Welcome to my current subconscious.
All interpretations are both welcome and appreciated.
Man, I love dreams!
alrighty then - that's all for now!
love y'all, miss y'all, wish you were here, etc. etc. and so on...
xo xo xo xo