Saturday, November 7, 2009

Roots 2.0



The years pass as ephemeral as ever and I miss the desert,
its silence, the weight of dust.
I miss running,
my feet bare and my heart free,
my passage distorting mirages.
I miss the relative simplicity of the past,
the ease with which I fell and stayed in love.
I miss watching strangers doing their washing at the Nile,
while crushes give me piggy-back rides
and I dance with my best friend and her boyfriend.
The white heat go unnoticed as we made our way past armoured tanks and military towers,
men in robes taking a shit by the side of the road,
donkey carts beside our van, on the way to school.
Katy used to croon in my ear,
Gibson Stratocasters synonymous with drug deals,
Literature and Physics at the tip of my finger.
The years have passed and all I can do is dream,
yet again I dream and I am haunted,
the desert calls to me to come home
and I close my eyes to heighten my senses.
Let my heart be free again.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Roots.

I have forgotten.

For the past few months, I have been collected, serious and overall good. I forgot who I really am.

Some eccentricities survived law school:



But my mind was bogged down with thoughts of the future, of saving and changing the world.
Criminal and constitutional law, social and environmental awareness.

Music was just a reprieve, a de-stressing mechanism.
Art was confined to fashion blogs and attempts at running in high heels.
Saturday nights reserved for studying.

And then, Samhain. A night traditionally denoting a time when magic is at its strongest, most potent. A night of celebration, of saying goodbye to the summer and its scorching heat and of welcoming in the falling of the leaves, welcoming the beginning of winter and the solace and silence it brings.
I was taken back to my roots.
Magick and music in a huge-screen LCD display of fireworks and a dancing, prancing Native American Chief:



I was a groupie for Halloween. I was me again, circa 2005.


Thanks a bunch to my standing Friday night date, Alisha CHANGI. Oh, how much I love that motherchucker.

Moving along... in the process of finding cams_groupie/Liyana Flowers...

Sunday mornings had been reserved for family events and catching up on my reading (god forbid, of blogs).
And then, Nina. Faressa.
Lucky bitch was about to be off to freakin' London for two months! So we made a point to meet before she had to catch a flight out of this wretched city we pathetically call home.
We spent the day in traditional LiyanaNina fashion: iced lattes at the tobacconist (where we talk about our sex lives), movie (Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs) followed by lunch (originally, we planned on sushi as usual but the movie steered our tumblies towards spaghetti and -duh- meatballs) and then magazines and iced passionfruit teas that cost as much as the magazines at the apartment.

With Nina's help, I remembered wanting to live in a caravan, traveling, free, accumulating shoes, ponchos and dreamcatchers... And BOOKS.


I have finally recalled my dreams, my loves, my hopes and aspirations.
Now, reconnected to my roots, I desperately wish to stay grounded, loving peace and mathematics, regardless of the limitations I have realised have been imposed on me... self-inflicted barricades.
Please, please let me stay essentially, me.


peace, love and math,
L.A.