Feb. 25, 2013

Feb. 21

Oaxaca is so full of art and beauty. Seeing my own version of A Day In the Life of Oaxaca. Eight of us stayed at Lauren and Kevin’s little apartment in Old Oaxaca Historical District last night. Four from Russia (one from Ukraine); one from France; me, Lauren and Kevin from Colorado. A very congenial group.

The question about love is: how well will a person let me get to know him? How much of himself will he reveal to me? And ditto for me back at him: how far into  my soul will I allow another person to come.

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Feb. 22

Last evening Johan from France was describing hitchhiking. He said  it took him years to develop “a screen” to protect him from all the stares and the coldness of those people who won’t even acknowledge his existence when he is looking for a ride. A friendly, kind, dashing, handsome young man.

Andres and Johan both left early this morning, taking off hitching–separately–to “Rainbow” (Gathering) somewhere on the coast near here. Andres is a big man from the Ukraine; he’s a solitary, quiet guy, and he hefts a huge pack. Awesome.

Here’s what I posted on Facebook today:

I am living as though there are no rules, as though EVERYONE is my family, and as though my ONE TRUE LOVE is waiting for me around every corner. My inner life is the real me, the ME who will be alive and well after this old, physical body dies. The material world is a tableau, a stage set, a studio where, every day, I recreate my work-in-progress: LIFE ON EARTH.
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Feb. 23
I am going to Mexico City (the DF) at midnight tonight on ADO bus lines. It´s only 6 1/2 hours from here. (Tapachula is 12 hours south of Oaxaca.) Ireyca will meet me at the Tapo Station where the bus lets me off.
I can´t forget the images of the crowd from Russia and the Ukraine at Lauren´s house the other day. Beautiful people.  Two of the men, Mich(ael) and Andres are real road warriors and hikers. They are the kind of solitary, tough guys you see throughout history, wandering around and forging new paths. Very rugged, wonderful men!
I am so glad to have spent a few days with these two guys; Miriam and Dimitri were also there: a sweet, young couple–also Russians. It was a beautiful gathering of Gypsies. In the evenings, we sat around drinking beer (and some of us smoked pot) before going out to other activities. One night, the two single guys (Mich and Andres) went to the Russian Ballet´s performance here in Oaxaca. It was free for them (being Russian), and afterward they went out with some of the performers (who included ballet dancers and circus performers).
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Feb. 24
Night bus from Oaxaca; arrived in Mexico City at 6 am. Ireyca, friend and CS host, met me at the Tapo Station where my bus pulled in.
Rabbits: always ready to run. Hanging out with Ireyca at her apartment in Alvarro Obregon section of the DF, and talking to Daian on Skype. Daian was the CS host when I first came to Mexico City a few years ago (2009?), and Ireyca, the younger sister, lived with her.
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Feb. 25
Here’s what I wrote to Angel on Facebook yesterday:
“Be nice. No matter how delicious you look, you’ll never have my heart unless you let your goodness and your insanity shine through. Life is long, my Angel. It lasts forever–like True Love–throughout all eternity. Endless love.”
I always think my current love interest may be  MY ONE TRUE LOVE. So, I’m not shy. If it’s not this one, it’ll be the next one. I know I’ll find him.
I don’t know Angel well enough to know if he’s the ONE or not. I’m just saying… It could be him. I don’t let any worthy man go by without letting him know that I am looking for my ONE LOVE. Someday…
It’s important for me to let go once I’ve let the man know my feelings. Have to move on. I held onto Jeremy Birkhead for fifteen years after my intense six-week, mystical experience with him when I was 51 (and he was 20). I still had other lovers–lots of them, but Jeremy remained #1 in my mind and heart. Now, I just let them know, and then I let go and move on. Works for me, and no one gets hurt.
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I have the whole day to myself in Ireyca’s nice apartment here in Mexico City. She’s off at school. Daddy and Mummy (in Veracruz) pay for everything: school, the apartment (which Daian, Ireyca’s sister owns), and spending/food money. It’s a nice place with internet!
I’ll just take a walk later and get some coffee and fresh fruit and veggies. Last night Ireyca and I went out to a great restaurant–lots of Gypsies!–in Coyoacan (an hour away:  three subways and one bus). I spent $100 pesos on two beers and a ridiculously unhealthy plate full of chicharones (fried pig skins) and guacamole. I have at least $700 pesos left, and March first (money day!) is Friday, so I’m doing well. Haven’t had to borrow from Seth for two months.
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Went out to the stores. About a fifteen minute walk alongside and across crowded streets and highway on and off ramps. Got veggies, fruit, yogurt, and cappuccino at a little cafe next to the supermarket.
It took me two tries to leave Ireyca’s apartment to go to the stores. On the first try, I was pushed back in by fear that I would be cold in the strong wind. (We are on the sixth floor here, and the wind was weaker down on the sidewalk.) On the second try, I forget what fear drove me back inside, but it was quickly squelched. I made it outside! This always reminds me of the Bill Murray comedy, “What About Bob?” (about an Aspie).
When going outside in a city of 20 million people, always go slowly and wear earplugs. This works about 90% of the time. The rest of the time, run! This applies to crossing streets and telling men you love them before making a quick get-away.
As far as men go, never marry into a family that will never accept you as one of them. Some families are CLOSED to all but genetic insiders (and the occasional adoptee).
Here is what I commented on Facebook today (under one of Suza Francina’s entries): Love is a hellhole, a pile of shit under the butt of someone sitting in an outhouse.” Suza said, “You are so baaad…” And she suggested that I “clean it up.” So, I changed it to:
“Love means everything to me. Night and day, I dream of my True Love. He is out there somewhere, and he is always within me (spiritually, and in a tantric/psychic-sort-of way).”
In this lifetime, I don’t want to be part of any man’s life. I want to be free. Too much drama is involved in love affairs and marriage. I don’t want that!
True love is a RECOGNITION of the Other; it is not a “choice” (as in, I really love this guy so I am choosing him to be my True Love). No. I don’t call anyone my “True Love.” My love is mine spiritually, not in a physical or material world sense at all. No fears, no losses, no pain are involved. You can’t “lose” your other half. And you don’t have to “work on the relationship.” It just IS.
I am a dreamer, a romantic, an occasional mystic, imaginative, and a true believer (in love). I am also, on occasion, a crass, frank, sarcastic, irreverent realist. It goes with the territory of being a romantic. It’s the yang to that yin.
I am making my decision about who is my ONE TRUE LOVE based on my memory and recognition of him. Jeremy Birkhead is always my default Love. I had my mystical experience of True Love with him. But other men are always stepping in to take his place: the most recent is Angel.
I will decide who seems to be the most likely candidate based on MY feelings. What this man (whomever he is) thinks of me is irrelevant. Jeremy showed me that a man may not realized what in the hell is going on. He may, like Jeremy, just be so young that he can’t tell a tit from a True Love.
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I have always chosen wild, glamorous, handsome men. I don’t know if my Love is a handsome man in this lifetime or if, in dreams, he appears so gloriously beautiful to me (in spirit) that I imagine that, in physical life, he must be very handsome. Life is very mysterious. “When you believe in things you don’t understand, then you suffer.” (from the song” Superstition”) I suffer by constantly (for most of my life) searching for my ONE LOVE and not finding him, but believing that: a.) he is out there, b.) that I will eventually find him, c.) that he is looking for me, and d.) that this search for him is ALL, everything, the main thing (besides developing myself) in this lifetime.

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Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.” ~Joseph Wood Krutch

This is how I feel about my ONE TRUE LOVE:

“Most of the time, she’s not even on my mind… most of the time. I don’t care if I never see her again… most of the time.” (Bob Dylan)

He’s always, always with me–in every way, in every cell, in every thought, every feeling. But I have my own work to do in this lifetime.

I have to let go of him and move on. He is my wildest dream and my surest certainty. He is my Everything. He is my Mystical dream-lover and my one reality. We share everything. We are always together in spirit, and yet we are always apart in mind and body. This Love is greatest contradiction of my life. And I accept the mystery of it.

My Love, My Darling, My Angel. I adore you. I need you.

Make my soul Thy temple!
Make my heart Thine altar!
Make my love Thy home!.
~Paramahansa Yogananda~

I am his “One Love,” not his wife, mistress, lover, girlfriend, best friend, etc. I have no place in his life, except this.

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I am drawing away from my preoccupation (temporary obsession) with Angel. I am drifting back into my singular, solo reality. Here in such a big city, I can speculate on my own life with impunity. No one cares what I am doing here; I am completely anonymous (except to the few people here who know me). It’s not like a small town (Nederland, Colorado, for example) where everyone wants to know everyone else’s business, where everyone is bored or depressed or involved in some local drama or altercation.

As Jean Alain wrote to me today, living in a place like Mexico is very different from living here. Jean moved here some years ago from France. He’s a Couchsurfer. We’re going to a lamp market tomorrow. I told him I’m not taking the Metro by myself. Y’know, I know I could, but, hell, I’m not putting myself through that if I don’t have to. Next Tuesday, I will be taking the Metro alone, from Ahmed’s and Bronson’s to the airport. No problem. Bronson will help me get on the right train and will give me great directions. And, as always, I’ll plan on being very early. That reduces my stress.

On the way to the market this morning, I noticed a big highway sign that says, “Alta Tension.” Uh, yeah. It means “High Tension (stress).” Why is this on a big, permanent highway sign? What does it mean?

So many mysteries when travelling. I see so many things that are completely new to me. I usually am walking around blindly. I’m never part of the culture I’m travelling in (except in the US), and I’m usually like a fish out of water. Maybe a fish who breathes air, maybe a whale or a dolphin. I’m always a little off-kilter, off balance, a little out of it.

My autism makes my distance from Other People’s (consensual) reality even greater in some ways, but it also keeps me “in the moment” and very “real.” I adapt rather quickly to new things, people, situations, and places. My emotional reactions are (consciously) kept to a minimum; logic prevails (it’s a choice; it often functions to lessen conflict and confrontation). This attitude helps me retain myself (my ways of Being) while adjusting (which often means conceeding [on the surface]) to neuro-typical reality.

“50 First Dates” (Drew Barrymore) isn’t one of my favorite films by accident. I feel like that: everything is new, eveything is for the first time. And with age affecting my short-term memory, the disconnect with the past and the connection with the NOW are even more pronounced. Of course I remember things and people; I just don’t always want to respond to the present based on some past experiences. The new, the change that has occurred, the transformations that have happened are much more interesting to me.

I don’t want to relive the past. I let go of everything I can from the past. I want to flow with the transformations. Let the past go. Be in the now.

I do hold onto places and people who I love.

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