across the tracks

January 3, 2008 at 11:58 pm (destruction, exploration, history, mystique, passion)

00213008.jpg

the phrase fallen woman implies there’s been some bad behavior somewhere in the past that is almost impossible to recover from. in my case, i’m only a fallen woman in my inner world. there could very well be some people out there who view me as morally corrupt, but if there are, they aren’t brave enough to tell me.

i spent some time in new orleans at one point. it was a time of exploration and play. i knew it was temporary which allowed me to push the boundaries. i was obsessed with the wrong guy, stayed up late drinking every night and felt very, very charged up.

i loved it and it took me a long time to come back from the story i created and lived there. it was one of the most beautiful and wretched time periods of my life. i behaved badly and relished it. i gave myself permission to do whatever i wanted, letting my own demons take flight. i watched in fascination as i transformed from wall flower to hot house flower.

i still dream of the city; steamy, dark and fecund. i’m trying to cross the train tracks to get to my favorite 9th ward bar, but for some reason i can never get across. either there’s a train literally blocking me or there are distractions before i even get to the tracks.

always trying to get to the other side of the tracks…the dark, primal side of life where our desires run rampant and there’s no restraint.

sometimes in my clean incarnation here and now, i miss the sweaty heaven of my 9th ward madness.

Permalink 2 Comments

aging to new beauty?

December 28, 2007 at 10:52 pm (beauty, mystique, physicality, reflection, sexuality)

YOUNG GIRLS…ENJOY THE BLOOM OF YOUTH…IT FADES TO SOMETHING DEEPER AND MORE PROFOUND YET LESS VISIBLE…

collierguinevere1.jpg

lately i’ve been thinking a lot about aging. i never thought it would bother me. it’s not that it bothers me exactly but when i see the quality of my skin and how it’s changing, i realize that the beauty of youth is quickly leaving me.

i’ve never been incredibly good looking, but i had at one time a pretty hot little body and enough charisma to make up for being a little rough around the edges. i come from peasant stock and as such, have the unrefined features of a field worker.

ok, maybe i’m being too hard on myself. there were a handful of time periods in my life where i got plenty of male attention. i looked good in my tight little outfits and had really beautiful hair. now i see that the beauty i had is fading. i’m relieved that i wasn’t too invested in my looks. i can see now how painful it would be to lose that if it meant a lot.

honestly, i found it strange to be adored for my body and looks. i was always suspicious of it and slightly insulted. i’ve always wanted to be known more for who i am than what the outer shell looks like. secretly i loved the attention. and i especially loved being cruel to those who favored me with it.

now that it’s all gone, i wonder if i appreciated it enough. isn’t that the way of life though?

we don’t know what we’ve got till it’s gone?

Permalink 3 Comments