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today in herstory

A year ago today I almost died. Woke up in Ze car not realizing where I was; when I did after 12 seconds, I couldn't remember what I was there for in the first place. Oh yeah I had died and now I was to meet the gods and hear their judgment.

But first I had to see Pete.

Hey Pete this is my final cut.

The final cut, of course, contained a recording of all the things I had done, good and bad, things I had learned (supposedly) and missed, during my lifetime in this place.

(Pete, by the way, is the gods' henchman numero uno who is in charge of entertainment. He shows 'em all kinds of funny stuff.)

Then came the moment of reckoning. Five gods gave a pass, two issued a high pass (express lane pass, I suppose), one abstained for obvious reasons. I was this god's protégé. This god was proud and I was relieved. I got the gods' collective nod for me to walk towards the afterlife.

posted by: giuli at 23:57 | link | comments (5) |

what the hell?

So you won; but for fuck's sake can't you will you just please quit whining and just say thank you and move along?

posted by: giuli at 23:14 | link | comments (8) |

one

Happy Birthday, blog.

posted by: giuli at 22:19 | link | comments (3) |

in order to wake up from a bad dream, first you have to...

I dreamed that I had killed someone with my bare hands, or, hand, for unknown reasons. Apparently I threw a series of punches to the person’s face. Punches that I would liken to feather-light cat paws. Or hesitant pussyfooting, if the person’s face ever was the earth.

Then I went into hiding.

Up a spiral staircase, of all places, I climbed, to hide. Every single staircase, spiral or other, that I had climbed in my dreams had always been grossly defective, one way or another. Dangerously unstable; termite-infested and decaying, if wooden; with steps or flights missing, etc. This was no exception: even while the mansion-like house seemed elegant and new, its stairway was close to rotten that I could’ve easily fallen through. Climbing was a complete struggle; I had to use my hands for more leverage, as if to tackle a wall of a mountain, or I could’ve fallen backwards if I walked upright.

At the last step, exhausted, though relieved to have made it, I rested on my back. Then I felt the stairs beginning to give underneath me. But it appeared that I had the power to choose whether to freefall after the stairs or stay put. So with utmost defiance to the pull of the earth I closed my eyes so hard as if the effort could keep me suspended in mid-air as the stairs dropped to nothingness. It did. And so did it drift me back to consciousness afterward. Hello new day.

In the past, in another dream, in a situation somewhat similar (without the killing), I decided to just freefall, obey the law of gravity, throw everything up in the air, let it fall.

Thud.

Somehow I ended up at the tip of an abnormally tall and svelte bamboo which was dancing non-stop to the tune of the wind. It swayed in whichever direction the wind willed it; all I could do was to sway with it, hang on to dear life. It then reached a point where the bamboo was swinging with such wild abandon that it looked just about ready to fling me godknowswhere anytime. Quickly I decided to let go and fall on my own, instead of holding on and living with uncertainty at the top of the pole. I knew where I would land anyway. Rushdie's Gibreel Farishta said In order to be born again, first you have to die as he dove parachute-less from twenty-nine thousand and two feet towards the English Channel. Me, I just wanted to fall right back onto my bed, wake up from a bad dream and greet the new day.

posted by: giuli at 00:14 | link | comments (2) |