Moody Onion

I'm here a bit bored to tears - wondering why I stayed home. Oh yeah, I'm a bit tired from the long weekend of partying, so I decided to stay home to rest before I start all over again - but damn it I don't want to sleep. Ok, so I'll blog, but about what - ah, I know people and their peculiarities. Yes, people, they are like onions, layered, the more you peel away the more you find laying beneath, it takes quite a bit a peeling to get to the core (unless you decide to just cut it) and in the process of peeling it some tears will be shed - but with the right ingredients, in the right dish, they are fabulous.

Ok, scrap that, that's boring - oh my god! I have nothing to blog about. I don't want to blog about my weekend, and man was it FRIGGING GREAT and I don't want to blog about people. In the local parlance "what's causing dat." I'm just not in my mood tonight - someone recently asked me whether I was moody; clearly the answer is yes. Damn it man, I'm going to read myself to sleep.

Still Human

I can feel the grains of sand rolling around in my eyes, a telltale sign of my premature departure from the land of slumber. It has been a while since he or she (gender undetermined) has tugged at me - besieged me to sit here and put color to my thoughts; my writer took a leave of absence, but today it makes its return.

My sleep was disturbed by the thoughts of emotions; yes emotions, we're back to that again. Emotions, this distinctively human quality - this necessary evil - emotions makes us the more evolved animal. But my quarrel with emotions are more with those emotions that can wreak havoc on the relationships between men and women - the double edge swords that can bring much pleasure with an unequal amount of pain. Bloody emotions, the sworn enemy of logic and reason - the two, rather three can not co-exist; emotional humans are incapable of a logical thought process, the basis of action is always rooted in some bleeding heart emotion. If a major flaw is to be identified in a human, it is our inability to keep our emotions in check - because try as you may, it at one point gets the better of you. I too have fallen victim to it - hence I know, I'm still human.

They're tricky little bastards; don't attempt to keep them in check and you become a cream puff - the next welcome mat to unwillingly accept all the dirt/shit from the many passers by in your life; keep too hard a grip on them and you become cold, almost sub-human. I wonder whether animals have emotions - they probably don't, because unless it is in the latest Hollywood film, there are no wars or crimes of passion or anything negative that one can associate with emotions in the animal kingdom (the occasional fight among kin for breaking the rules or for being a block head).

Emotions have some use, but if I had my way I would do away with some of these freaking emotions - they can be destructive and nothing more than hindrances. But alas, being human means having emotion - though we can with much work eliminate or at least pretend to eliminate some, we have them, and must have them - these necessary evils.

Truth be told however, I love every aspect of my humanness - it gives much color to my life; but sometimes I could do without these wretched emotions.

Get it good

It's 4am and slumber has no further use for me - so here I am, playing through the thoughts in my head as to what I intended to blog about almost 12 hours ago. Ah yes, carnival, more specifically liming at carnival time. To many people, carnival began with the official launch, to others it starts, or rather, is, the two days of bacchanaling on the road - for me carnival started somewhere around March or April when I heard the first song - "olay". I always enjoy the carnival season - I have a blast, it is my time of year to really fete the way I like to fete; I've heard many adjectives used to describe me at carnival time - all appropriate. At some point this season, I decided I would write about every event I attended, the people, the atmosphere - the vibe. But, between "getting good" and recoverying in time for the next lime, I scrapped that thought.

Every event has been more intense than the last - and even where there are occassional duds the lime is easily salvaged by just finding some spot with something going on and continue the lime. People take on a diffrent attitude to liming and to interacting with people at carnival time. Carnival brings seasonal friends; these are the people you don't see anywhere, anytime other than carnival - and there is something about those people that pulls you, and your lime, that fete, is all the better; because, these seasonal friends meet with a single purpose - to enjoy themselves and as we would say "get it good".

Carnival is a time for good friends, good music, good rum, good fun - carnival is just freaking good.

Twisted Metal Minds

Clearly it is carnival time and I am having way too much fun to be bothered by thoughts or events that would ordinarily lay waste to my mind - in desperate need of an outlet. Suffice to say though, I still find myself some what amused by the subject of many of my blog musings.

Though less profound than the meaning of life, but equally confounding, are the actions/thoughts of women; more so when carefully (at least in their mind) crafted to draw a specific response/reaction. I have repeatedly told myself don't bother trying to figure out women, just enjoy/appreciate them for what (and who) they are - which is god's greatest gift (or curse, depending on whom you ask) to man. But, perhaps it is how I'm hard wired, because I persist in trying to find method to the madness - sometimes I figure it out, other times I don't.

Alas, I recline, smile and shake my head at the convolution that passes for logical thought processes, designed ostensibly to obtain a logical outcome. "Thank god I'm a man." I said to a friend recently; and often I hear women say "men have it easy". Not that the challenges of this life are more of a cake walk for either sex. But, if each of us could step out of ourselves, even for a moment and experience life as the opposite sex, perhaps we may have a better appreciation for the fortitude that is required to put up with the shit that we each mete out daily.

It will be alright in the morning

God is good! Those were the words my mother said to me this morning after recounting the night of pain and hastened heart beat of my youngest sister. Those words stung me, I felt incensed momentarily. God is good my ass, I thought. If he is so good then why the hell is she suffering like this. Why the weeks of pain. I felt my emotions running away with me and my eyes welled up; but I fought back the tears. As if to cry would be to accept defeat; to accept an end - and I will not cede to this emotion.

Why her, I thought. Then as I pondered on that question for a moment, it occurred to me - why not her. She is an amazing person - flawed like us all, but amazing none the less. I have admired her spirit and positive attitude ever since she had been diagnose with Lupus. She has never allowed it to break her down, dampen her spirits; she takes it in stride, some days better than others - and she makes every effort to enjoy her life.

I thought, is someone else more deserving of the pain, frustration, suffering; perhaps. But we all must go down our own paths, and this is hers. Watching her go through it is mine and all I can do is be there for her when she needs me. We will make it through this. Modern medicine is good but god in his divine wisdom is better. I will not surrender all responsibility to an invisible been; but I will trust that at the end of it all, it will be ok.

Tenting

It's carnival time and at this time of year I could not care to blog about anything mundane, dreary, stressful or the least bit profound. At this time of year try as you may - you could only piss me off for a maximum of five minutes. Wish it was like this all year round. Tonight I went to Ambassadors calypso tent - tent is always a good lime (for me anyway), irrespective of the quality of the material, because undoubtedly, you can pick crap apart and laugh your "mass" off about it. I don't know whether it is the recession, the fear of leaving one's house lest you gets shot, or the fact that Ambassadors are not proving to be kicking anyone's behind (save their own) in 2009 - but the National Cultural Centre was a bit on the empty side (the optimist might say it was almost full - plus or minus a few hundred). But you know once you feeling the air conditioning full blast - de place eh pack.

I'm not a critic of calypso(no handbook here), I'll leave that for the seasoned professionals. I will say though, I enjoyed Ginger's songs; unfortunately I missed Pep and Moggie's first song - I was outside eating and liming. The most note worthy song (at least to me) was the second offering from Robbie - great song, heart wrenching, but great; though my son is but 15 months, the thought of losing him is just unfathomable - much less singing about it. It was a rendition worth an encore, but how good you ask a man, a father, to sing again about the loss of his son. It was a very well received song.

So the night ended with the call for the ceremonious or not so ceremonious removal of a diplomat; but in true undiplomatic Lucian fashion the audience asked for more of the satire. Hey, I had some good laughs, good scotch, good fun - in the final analysis it was a good night.

And imagine there is still an entire month before it is all over. Stress on pause for me right now - it's carnival.

Carnival - We ting

There is this ongoing discussion/debate among carnival enthusiast about what is perceived to be the short comings of the festival. The argument centres around the loss of creativity, "culture", the art form - to the new culture of downloading/recycling of pre-fabricated costumes and the regurgitation of music. To this argument some would say "I doh care" and others would say the "constipation of action" would have our carnival looking real "funny funny funny" in the not to distant future (some would say it already looks that way).

We seem to be at odds with carnival in its strict definition, as a time for revelry and merriment and carnival as a representation or rather preservation of our culture. Strictly speaking culture is not static and should evolve; and some may argue in this case devolve with the society. Perhaps our society is at the point where we could care less about the art form - and the finer points of carnival and prefer simply to surrender to the intoxication of reckless abandonment.

Either way carnival is we ting - and "we" appreciate different aspects of carnival. There is no carnival without people - at this time of year I'm not interested in "my money back" because "I want to get it bad". I want to see the thousands of people moving down the street jumping, dancing, chipping to sweet beats; and at the end of the season I can look back and say "Sa sai Carnival"

CARNIVAL

If you did not know - I LOVE CARNIVAL! The culmination of carnival Monday and Tuesday is more than a month away, but if the last three days are any indication of what's to come for the rest of the season - Awa, I eh go make it. I've been liming from Wednesday and have not gotten back to my home before the midnight hour on any of those days. My god it has been mad freaking fun. There is a reason why carnival is once a year. Tonight, it's NG soca stage, the crew line up already; next week, cooler fete, ticket dun buy and the crew line up; the weekend after that; outrageous pre-fete and wet fete, tickets on lock, crew line up. Oh my God! CARNIVAL. I have not slept properly in three days, but I feel alive, energetic, ready for the next lime. Man I love this time of year - there is nothing like this energy.

House of cards

Twice in as many days I have seen him and twice in as many days he has lingered on my mind. This 6ft 1", not so strapping derelict young man named Germaine. Patrolling the streets with his bare feet, tattered clothes, unkempt hair - a seemingly common disposition for the extremely indigent, and some what mentally obscure people; whom we refer to as vagrants.

But Germaine bothers my mind because he is my contemporary. I recall very little about him - only that he was (and at last check, still) from Foolachaux (guaranteed that spelt incorrectly) and at school, he was bigger than the rest of us, and perhaps by default a bully; he was not much for sharing his sixty and luncheon meat - to the extent that he would gather up from as deep inside him as possible the hugest most disgusting phlegm and release it into the bread with much velocity, of course our stomachs would be too twisted from repugnance to even think of asking for the bread at that time.

In almost two decades, that is the memory I hold of Germaine, and am reminded of it every time I see him. I look at his face, burnt by the sun and colored by dirt, vacant; no hope or faith in a creator whom it seems has long abandoned his cause - I watch him take each step with the anticipation of the pain of placing his callous foot on the hot pavement; and I feel pity for him. Then I remember the bullying and the determination to be selfish, and the wicked, mean spirited imp in me says - that's what you get. I hasten to add that for my other classmates who remember him and his vile acts may have had similar thoughts. Like many of my fellow homosapiens, I possess good and not so good qualities, hence the thought that he deserves it. But no one was placed on this earth to suffer - we have, only of our own making.

What contributed to this young man becoming the derelict he is now? What happened along the way in the years I had not seen him? And it got me thinking. We sit so comfortably and some times smugly in our little lives and judge people for who they are, what they do or have done - we judge from our own criteria, everything else being questionable. Why? And this is in no way giving credence to criminal behavior - but even that has it root, not easily unearthed. Does it make us feel better about ourselves when we judge - because we are not "them", not "these people"; does it bolster that little egotistical drive of self-importance.

Yes we all have standards, values, beliefs (most of them not our own; not developed through free thinking, but rather the dogma, our inheritance) - and in an instance they can all be shaken; one poor decision, action, inaction, misjudgment, misunderstanding, can send our ostensibly stable world crashing down around us like the house of cards it is. We should be more grateful that we have been able to keep our heads above water and avoid the many pitfalls and landmines that are synonymous with life - and less concerned with pointing the accusing and judgmental finger to those who have been unable to. But life without pitfalls to climb out from and dust ourselves off of would not be so worth living. They build character, or so we have been told.

These indigent and derelict people have purpose, if not for themselves, for us - they are a gently reminder, that we are not vastly different; it only takes one event to set in motion the disaster that will become the rest of your miserable existence on this earth. It might be you that I give that pitiful glance or it might be you giving it to me (maybe you already have) - but at such time, I, like you, would be oblivious to pity, judgment or any other self-righteous feeling.

The irony is, Germaine, has not a fraction of my worries or commitments and may very well pity me when he sees me walk by in the hot sun with my monkey suit, or when I drive by in my car for which I must pay a loan monthly.

It begs the question, who should pity whom?

Reverie

Hurried breath from each caress
Curious hands refusing to rest
Tangled tongues behind our lips

Endearing words skipping past lips
Relentless desire not wishing to sleep
Twisted flesh seemingly possessed

Anticipating sweetness untold
Hastened search to parts well known
Opened my eyes to the darkness of home
Shit! I'm lying here all alone

To be or ...

I grow weary of these intermittent meaningless soliloquies, with no conclusion, no decision, no concrete recommendations.

Soliloquies where the present is intoxicated by the past, hanging over the future, regurgitating this bitter-sweet poison through my veins - invading the sanctum of my mind.

It has dissipated, but I desire a cessation. This armistice between desire and reason is too long in coming -armistice from this mental civil war well into a decade. A decade and many causalities. It has had moments of jubilation of conquest, doubt of reason, sadness of consequence, pleasure of triumph and pain of deceit.

Like all things it must come to an end - in the fullness of time...

Time, my only weapon in this war, my consolation, the only voice of reason in this wretched soliloquy.

Conversation

As the wind rolled off the cool morning sand I felt the endearment of a touching hand, closed my eyes for a second's peace, breathing in deep, this wind I can't reach

Listening intently to the voice so low, speaking in tones of ebb and flow, hitting the shore, it moved me more, my spirit now feels reassured.

And as I felt the comforting omnipresence, thankful for the moment to commune in this presence

The radiant smile of the sun lit my face, from within me, my own smile began to radiate

This morning we spoke, it has been too long, grateful for blessings and such grace, of only a minute to meditate.

In our brief but meaningful conversation, all that was said was, it will be ok, that is all I need to make my day.