Feeling Ill

Not certain at this point whether I am ill due to overzealous chewing of my own red polished fingers during period of intense random thinking OR copious consumption of Fiji beverages of the alcoholic and non alcoholic/non purified variety.
Regardless, I am physically ill which is a kick in the tonsils after declaring myself no longer mentally ill.

I wanted to rant about Fiji a little more. Her soggy fakeness. All synthetic grass and postcard plantings. That’s Fiji. They’ve planted coconut palms on the golf course. In case you can’t find your ball you can always whack a coconut, right? They’ve built resorts over mangrove swamps and they import crabs for buffets that are sure to please the US contingent.

But when I went wandering through her stirring ocean.. then I became transfixed. A thousand blue starfish humming together beneath me. A thousand (at least) grazing on the tired tufts of coral that poked up from the sunken earth. Sublime.

I also did like the fire.. there was a lot of fire in Fiji. It was in the torches and in the deep vibrations of the voices we heard. But you had to really look for it and really listen for it. In much the way you have to look and listen for the intentions in a postcard, years after it was sent.

Dolls

I met a perfect doll the other day.
Her teeth were twenty little pieces of perfect PK.
But oh how she snarled. She growled and she bit and she snarled and she gesticulated in my general direction.
Such a perfect smiley doll on the outside but such a squinty eye, menacing esteem, bully buttered burnt up piece of toast in the middle. All wrong way in.

And her cut stem approach to living, to letting live and letting grow. Her bitter bud and poisonous Prada and the smog that seemed to claw at her temples. More of a city dweller than I and yet I was the one who was all inside out.

I wanted to shine on her parade…
And I did.
Yay me.