Country boys are hard to hear.

My hearing is gradually returning, but it's an arduous journey. I'm really trying to understand people, but some I don't think I could understand even if my hearing was fully restored.

If the speech persuasion is in the same package as the Wranglers and Stetson, maybe we should make even tighter Wranglers a huge fashion so they become sterile.

Good Plan.

She's an open book...

He was so right. I am learning so much, so I thought I'd share.

Quotes from C.S. Nott's "Teachings of Gurdjieff, a Pupil's Journal"

"First try to do small things. If you aim at big things first you will never do anything or be anything. And your actions will irritate people and cause them to hate you."
G.I. Gurdjieff

"In general, men have minds more developed; women have feelings more developed. Men are logical, women are not logical. Men should learn to feel more, women to think more. You must think, feel and sense a thing before it can become real to you."
G.I. Gurdjieff

As I'm reading this book, I'm saying Gurdjieff's quotes in my mind like John Malkovich as Vinny KGB in the movie "Rounders." It works for me.

In the wake of silence.

I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to do what the man wanted to do the last weekend of summer, and the last night of vacation during my college career. Beknownst to all, it was a metal concert, and yes, I did know one of the bands playing. Burning Midget, College Station Death Metal with political influence.

I was almost enjoying myself after some Jager and beer. I was taking pictures of the band, and then it happened. My ears began to hurt badly, and I rushed to the bathroom.

Most of my friends know that I am completely deaf in my right ear, and that I've lost hearing in my left ear before. In Los Angeles, during a rehearsal for a suspension show, I was counting the cue from the drummers when all the sudden I couldn't hear the drums at all. My ears began to hurt badly, and I rushed to the outdoors.

So it has happened again. I'm almost completely deaf now, and I'm in my first day back at class. Last time this happened it took two full weeks to recover. I must spend my first two weeks of class in complete silence.

Will they understand? It was an accident, but will I lose my hearing forever?

I don't know, but there's one thing for sure, and it's that I'll keep on fighting, no matter what.

I know that there are things that I cannot deny, but it's so hard to ignore them. Let the beauty be just what it is because if you hold on too long, the butterfly loses it's ability to take flight.

Take love to heart, and hate to the grave.

I can't believe that reconciliation can come about so quickly. I awoke Saturday with the man sleeping on the couch. I roused him, and a single tear cascaded across my cheek as if it had been planning its escape for years. As he held me, I breathed him in like his scent was something satisfying to my soul. At that time we hadn't said more than 20 words to each other in a matter of three days. It was home having him back in my arms.

If I've learned anything at all about the male of our species during this trial by fire, I've learned that men do not react to problems in a relationship as women do. Men require a certain amount of space and silence in order for them to sort out what they feel. Women differ greatly from men in that we can tell another human how we are feeling straight off the cuff, only because the majority of women have experience with expressing these heartaches and discomforts that life so shockingly hurls in our paths.

It came as a great amazement that the man felt completely comfortable rejoining our everyday existence after our sebattical. We went to the cinema, shopping, and we went to a poker game. It's funny how love can bring you back so quickly.

It's not a surprise that he asked me what I did that Wednesday night.

In the calm before the storm.

Six hours ago I was watching the overcast and brooding sky. It seemed to lament as I do, with brief bursts of emotion shone across the horizon in starkly contrasting streams of light, breaching the shores and caressing the plains.

Time passed, and soon after my communal with the sky, she rained down tears of loss and sorrow in a last ditch effort for relief. It didn't take much convincing to make me go outside into the comfort of her sobs, but I found that I was not the only one who saw no shame to find joy in the weeping heavens.

I walked out to the paved lot and stood alone, but my unknown confidant began to close the gap between us, and soon remedied the situation. He came up close to me and asked me if I knew how to dance, and after I said yes, he held out his hand.

"Would you care to have this dance?" he said.
"Only if it's a waltz," I replied.

Like otherworldly entities, arm in arm we waltzed across the pavement in a dance celebrating renewal and the ability to just let go.

Business as Usual

Even though I'm not a midday meal kind of gal, lunch was nice. I got to emote on all of the depressing instances that have reared their hideously disfigured heads.

A listening ear was great, especially since all I've gotten lately from the man is a coarse and unnerving version of the silent treatment.





I hope things went well at dinner.

I wish he had come with me tonight, only because hitting range balls is so much better with a buddy. However, I was knocking the crap out of my driver, which made the experience much better. I've practiced by myself for the greater part of the time I've been playing golf, so it's no big deal, so don't feel guilty.

All was not lost, only because I'm great at meeting people (and I'm not afraid to admit it). The owner of the range was watching me practice, but the great thing is that he helped me with my swing! I was flattening out at the top, which was causing me to make a casting motion on my downswing, which decreased power and accuracy. After a little help and a lot of range balls, I'm on the way to working it out.

The one thing, the bane of my existence that happens to prevail at practice ranges more than anywhere else, is uneducated advice. Multitudes of "enthusiasts" who have no formal training give pointers to those who are worse off. It irritates me, but who am I to judge.

Nine days left of summer and I have to work on four of those days. The weekend prior to the first day of school is going to be all mine, unless someone wants to share it with me, but I'm not going to get my hopes up. I'd do fine out in the middle of the wilderness for a few days with a camera. In fact, that sounds very intriguing.

Tandem Suspension; lunaliar on bottom in maroon.

Give Gurdjieff a chance...

"Don't tell me I haven't been good to you,
Don't tell me I have never been there for you,
Just tell me why nothing is good enough."
- Sara McLachlan

There was so much anticipation, it was like having the high beams on in the midst of moistened air, a dense fog; it was palpable.

If for anything, the moments I enjoyed most of that night were those engulfed in laughter and bliss. Those two souls that touched once before were embraced in each others limbs as they uplifted one another to a point past virtue and beauty, in an undying, brilliant morning star.

For all that I learned that night, about history, philosophy, spirituality and myself, all that does not surpass the value of laughter that was so mutual, so knowing and kind, so comforting and gentle, and was no less innocent than the sweetest first kiss.

I can honestly say that through the entire night, no one in that room could remotely say that they were unhappy.

When I arrived home, the man was at the desk and I was brimming with joy and knowledge. It didn't take him long to smother my happines, all he had to do was sit and say nothing at all. It's the silence that kills me, the cold and crafted silence that punishes you for every waking moment until it is broken by compromise.

I left the bottle of Tito's at your house. You can get it back to me later, I'll call you.

"And I would be the one,
to hold you down,
kiss you so hard,
I'd take your breath away.
After that wipe away your tears,
Just close your eyes, dear."

-Sarah McLachlan

Maestro and the Madrigals...

What I said before isn't entirely true, and I can't wait to see you again; in this realm or in my dreams.

I told everything, guessing it's place in your eye, never considering that my side of the story was relevant.

I moved closer to you, I agressed and made my wants known. You, however, fell into place like the last piece of the puzzle, and gently held my head in your hands while you pulled me into your body in a way so intoxicating and deep.

That feeling was more than just what I needed from you. At that moment, every star shone just for the two who touched souls on that busy street, as the grass tickled our feet.

For the sake of the past, you know within that moment there was no guilty pleasure, it was whole and lacked any subversive intentions. At that moment, curiosity gave two people what they wanted, and told them the truth.

At that moment, we both wondered if there would be any more moments as pure and true as this one.

Did I think I was going to save the world or something, or was the blonde hair a symbol of something a bit more superficial?

Oh Kirstin, I posted it after all...

Moderation makes sense

I gave 'him' a link to my blog. Whether it was a good idea or not, the jury's still out on that, but I'm not going to say that I regret doing it, because I don't.

Monday, what a trip. Caffery got a new truck after the previous one became an inferno on I-35 headed towards Denton. So it's nice, but if anyone knows me, I'm not the truck type. Mom and Jess came by, so I'm one kitchen table and twenty bucks richer. Even further on the plus side, if Caffery sends the pictures of her truck-borne inferno I'll definitely post them.

I haven't seen the man in his waking state at all. Earlier today I was talking to my mother about graduating from school next August, and my plans for living and all that jazz, and she said that I was welcome to crash in M-ville with my sister and her significant other, but the man was ousted. It stung a little after she pulled the salty knife from my back, but I think I got over the burning when she mentioned that it's all about my father and his prejudices. Okay, I guess wounds can heal, but do memories fade enough?

I rearranged furniture, vaccuumed, dusted, and scrubbed and swept. The place looks primo.

That bottle of vodka is still over half-full, but does that make me an optimist?

The stars sing with you

It wasn't too long ago that I complained about the lack of diversity in College Station, but now I know that there is no diversity here; but a few miles outside the city limits, a new sense of unity is present.

The drive isn't that far, in fact, it seemed short when accompanied by anticipation. About 5 miles outside the town of Kyle, Texas, is a house and a few adjoining acres.

It was at this location, joined by Tito's Handmade Vodka, some juice and soda with a bit of ice, lawn chairs and two turntables with a microphone, that we sat and felt joy throbbing through our bodies as the bass beat climaxed and retreated. Above us was a canopy of live oak, and beyond that there were stars shining through our souls to open the book of our lives and awaken the song within.

It wasn't just the music, the company, the booze or the herb, but in combination with the sky above, we all sang the same song of joy in our hearts and of life that is worth living right.

It seems inevitable.

So, I tapered off of my fast early due to an impromptu journey to Killeen. The man and I found out that the man's parentals went to Nevada without telling us. Shame on them.

It was nice to get the change of scenery in my blood, but now it's Tuesday, and after missing a few days of work, I'm back to the grind.

Word is spreading like wildfire about The Master Cleanser throughout my social circles. I hope that next time I try to fast I won't get interrupted by a family-oriented outing.

I'm in desperate need of a digital camera, and since I'm in love with eBay, I've been scouting for something high-end, but not an SLR. I think that SLR systems should be left to 35mm, and I feel this only because I'm an analog purist.

Kodak feels that film will soon be obsolete, although many respected photography competitions remain countered in celluloid. I don't like the idea of anything except bigotry and hate becoming obsolete.

Day 2

So, day two is over, and I was very sick with abdominal pains. It was expected though because of all of the junk in my system being loosened up. I guess it's all part of the detoxification process.

Two down, eight more to go. Living without caffeine has become quite a feat.

Day 1

Today was the first day of my Master Cleanser fast. I'll finish in 9 more days.

I can't wait to eat again...

It's go time... All or nothing...

I'm picking up Stanley Burroughs' book The Master Cleanser today, and after I read it, I'm going to go on the fast, followed by Dr. Hulda Clark's Liver Flush.

I'm nervous/excited to see the results, if there are any. If it works for me, I'm going to do the Master Cleanser before every suspension.

I'm excited...

I'll see Caffery today, I don't know what to expect, but at least I'll look FOXY! (while moving furniture)

Still fresh in my memory.

I can't get it out of my head. His lips were so soft and open, as if our kiss was something that he had wanted for so long. It was as if we were alone on that crowded street, the soft grass tickling our feet, but the moment was so much sweeter.

It's still there, open and on the surface, like a bitten piece of fruit, soft and savory with it's flesh exposed.

That kiss was a holy moment, in its truest form. I felt every bit of God in that kiss, it was as if he had made me to feel like the bitten fruit, like the scarlet paint on the front of Hester Prynne's frock, open and exposed, vulnerable and erotic.

I was touched by sin itself, made only by God's hand.

I awoke this morning in the best of spirits with the worst of hangovers.