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Ash Wednesday

The morning is quiet; the frenzy and vibes of the last 7 days seem temporarily to have vanished from the ethers. Cars are headed toward the airport filled with tired revellers returning to their lands. It must be a mess out there since the annual hassle for space will begin. Others are heading out to some of the popular beaches where they might be hoping for R&R, but big beach parties have been organized at some of them to squeeze the carnival juices out a little more. The devout have attended their churches, and the catholics bear the mark of ashes on their foreheads. The season of lent begins. All those who want to practise a fast now have a 40 day period to do it.


Warrior Woman

Becalmed in the doldrums of my life, I'm fixed to a spot in this cosmic seascape, as a model boat on a mirror ocean, waiting for the breeze that surely is blowing at your back as your journey picks up speed, and as warrior woman your oddyssey becomes an action-packed epic. A dark cloud covers the sun and deepens the mood.



Being 'kind" doesn't mean making yourself a 'bobolee'. Survival and selfpreservation are always first, but everything can be carried to extremes. A thinking person must always be a few steps ahead (though it makes you disgusting to live with). I hope your little excitement settles itself and releases the knots in your stomach. Though you are not an ECkist you can still chant HU when ever you feel the urge; it speaks to God without "speaking" to God, so to speak. Also, it helps you touch your Soul consciousness which purifies your action....whatever it is and however others view it.



Dreams have many functions. Among them, stress release, as well as information and insight.



Life must be fulfilling for you. You certainly are a very busy little bee. You are young enough to keep changing options, but at some time you have to settle down. What you have to consider is what you'll be doing years down the road: how you will live and where and how well. Since medicine seems no longer on the cards, whatever you do must satisfy you. Don't take a year and a day to decide, and don't make rash decisions because the years will start to fly now. Just the other day I was your age - and today , a disgruntled old man ..... so choose and plan well. I think you have a curse of being able to do too many things well. On the other hand there is a place for polymaths in the world. You should have discussion with some counsellor who may help you to make a proper decision.



Everything here is routine and ritualized; carnival is raging in town : only 2 murders and 36 woundings yesterday . The women are still wining down the place in Hart, Poison, Barbarossa and other bands - but one can see them aging - they are broader in the beam, distended of stomach and pendulous. But they seem to have a vacuously grand time. Even the muscle men look jaded.



I have come to live with the arbitrariness of life and know that I should enjoy each day and moment fully, but I'm overwhelmed by the constant stream of incident, tragedy and disaster. I try to explain it away as the play of karma and when I do it makes me cold not joyful. I simply hope to be inspired from time to time and to let those bright spots lighten my twilight.


Sweet Days

I wish I were 33 again - but then I don't think I was happy at 33. I must have been a bitch at 33 too. I hope you have many sweet days ahead.



We are all racist to the core. I try not to be, intellectually, but whenever things become primal - we revert. My family is so mixed that we, of all people, shouldn't be racist - but basically we see ourselves as black, which means beleagured, defensive, aggressive, and therefore antagonistic to out groups.



As I stepped out to go to the newsstand the platinum whiteness of the sun bathed the valley with its solar blessings. My neigbour's four red roses swayed resplendently in the air like beautiful dawn kisses. The mist on the hillsides was visibly dissipating like a sweet lover's breath at the moment of parting, and the day suddenly semed so blessed and glorious that one could almost forget the security threat in a confrontation between Government and some wouldbe insurrectionists who had threatened our civility and safety once before. It was a moment of juxtaposition between the sacred and the profane, as one balanced on the cusp of an inexplicable emotion. On my return, the spouse was watering her beloved flowers to save them from the scorching attentions of the Antillean eye (in the sky).



I really believe that love is unlimited. I feel that once you put limits on love, loving, you can never really love. Possession and territoriality can never be real love. I think liking is the real trouble - it incites passion that may be powerful, disastrous and fleeting. It has to do with blood and sweat, and smell and potency.



The Abu Bakr thing has settled for the moment, but is like a cyst - it might come back. When something is happening in my environment and I don't know what it is, sometimes my body/brain gets out of sorts. I guess its trying to tell me. And I'm too dumb to understand until it happens. Still I try to generate love or be a channel for IT - especially now as the days dwindle to a precious few.



Yesterday morning, I experienced for a fleeting moment that perfect state of Being, where you feel that at that particular moment everything is right and you are exactly where you should be. At the time I was driving along the Caroni plain, with its vast grasslands,there were mountains in the distance, the cloudscape was majestic, the lighting was perfect, and a feeling of oneness with the universe and God passed over me. I guess it was what might have been called a state of bliss or Zen. But there were vehicles careening past at breakneck speed, pulling in and cutting out so the experience was fleeting; my survival instincts on this plane took over. And of course, then I started to become a Trini driver myself, you know how that goes; but for those few moments all was right with the world. I guess all we can hope for in this life is a few moments at a time.



If you wake up in the morning - you know you really have nothing to worry about. Just give thanks and praise. And serve others. You are Soul, immortal. The real you cannot die.



When you treat your body so drastically the withdrawal symptoms are severe: terrible headaches, faintness, you might even see God - without having to go in the desert. In the desert of your mind, your stomach will be chasing you for all you are depriving it and will give you painful messages. But some people enjoy it. It certainly clears the head if not overdone.



Maybe the headaches are because of all the killings, murders, kidnappings, political shenanighans, conspiracy against Clinton and Manning, and the unfairness of the judicial system, depreciation of the environment, besides getting old and degenerating - isn't that enough reason for headaches and lightheadedness.



There's nothing on the macro scale here that is uplifting, but sometimes on the micro an epiphany occurs that is personal and enlightens a particular small circle. But where Kidnapping and murder is becoming a national pastime , and domestic murder continues unabated there's not too much to hearten. Like the great poet we will have to look for sermons in stones.



Marriages and relationships are always difficult, but one has to decide how much crap one can take. Do you know that drinking is the British national pastime? So it's not unusual that he drinks - he tried to conform for you a lot but culture must be prevailing. Someone says on Fridays and weekends perfectly normal British men often drink themselves sodden and stumble all over the place as they make their way home, vomit and pee down themselves. Their other pastime is said to be wife beating. I hope you won't tolerate that at all.

Anson Gonzalez 1998 All rights reserved
Absolutely no publishing without written permission