1000 DAYS

. I went in that freezing pool of sea water last saturday, the Baltic, in Finland. once in a pool in winter with my father to save the pool whose rocks had fallen in from the pool cover. when i was 18 or 19, I spent part of the summer in Danish camp as a dishwasher pretending to be a language teacher and we went on this Viking Club thing where we swam at dawn and then sat in saunas. The cook was Danish. We went out to town a couple of times and got drunk. Once I brought beers back and some girl asked me if she could have one, we were talking and drinking beer and I nearly got fired because she was too young to drink so it was illegal and in that same camp I once threw up either right outside the deck or in the bed in the cabin sleeping some of the students.

  Onions I used to hate onions Claudia. I hated them growing up and my mother always made horrible shit food with onions in them and we would have a test of wills. She would say you cannot leave the table until you finish and I would just shut down and say fine I will sit here until my bones turn to dust. all for onions. then when I was freshman at uni i joined a frat (not jerk jock frat but cool guy frat) and part of the initiation was to eat a feckin onion whole like an apple so after my youth trauma you can imagine how bad that was but i managed to do it anyway...nowadays thanks to years of smoking killing my taste buds and learning that onions subtle in sauce can be ok, I see that they are edible and that I can have them in sauces now and red onions not so bad. *** mine was sort of by accident I think although I provoked it maybe with photos. something humiliating happened to me once; i was like (sorry for the graphic nature but it is needed for the story) humping what I ...

  “Where am I?   Try and imagine all the reasons you are in Paris. Yes, Kattia but well before her there were other things. You could point to Jaws, the movie that made you want to study oceanography which in turn caused you to take French as a language because you'd read it would help your chances at becoming an oceanographer.  That was before you realised you had no propensity for biology or science.  It was language all along, not science.   And with that French class, your first real trip abroad; France and Paris. What was it, 1980 Paris?  1979 Paris?  1981 Paris?  All hard to say, hard to remember. But you got drunk for the first time in your life in France and stayed drunk for more than 40 years. Something kept luring you back again and again.  Pit stops. You went with Claudia, who had lived here for a year abroad and hated it.  You slept in the morning in Jardin de Luxembourg because the hostel didn't open until later....

 Childhood first chiild.  sister born five years later.  I think I unwittingly trried to suffocate her when I was young.  I don't remember clearly other than getting into big trouble for it.  I was a smart kid or smarter than the others around me anyway.  they put me in an advanced learning program when I was I dunno, like 5th or 6th grade so ages 10 to 12 perhaps.  My parents moved out of a city to avoid me growing up in bad influence of gangs and violence and moved me to a suburb.  Otherwise, I grew up reasonably "normal" I had fights with my mother, arguments, that would involve us not talking to each other for days until she finally broke down.  We were both stubborn.  I did'nt like my family much and liked to keep to myselfe.  I didn't really feel loved so much as controlled.   I often invented activities to entertain myself and sometimes others.  I lived in a different world very often.  Kids play make beli...

 - Italy - the ile of Capri CA-pri they said over and over correcting.  Walk up and up and up through nothingness and vineyards and fields towards the summit where rest the remains of some god king statue and on the way, finding that place in the middle of nowhere, the only customers, the proprietor eager to cook, every bit of the meal from scratch, one course after another - the New year's day meals in France particilarly in Orleans - the double gigantic Schnitzel in Berlin waiting for Karen, in Charlottenburg, shocked and amazed by the size and cheap price - the first time eating Argentine parillada and each time therafter, particularly in Argentina - Riodizio in NYC and then in London the red and green cards, food non stop carved out in front of you never knowing when to say stop red light too much - sausages and brown bread at streetside stands in Prague - the thanksgiving meal you and Kathleen prepared for your mother all from scratch using recipes from Kathleen's cooking...

answer these questions. • What was your role in the relationship? • Were there issues that kept popping up, again and again? • What were typical interactions with your significant other like, and were you comfortable with them? • What part did you play in resolving conflicts? • What are your needs and were they being met on a consistent basis? • Were you able to meet your significant other's needs? • Did you feel that any sacrifices you made for the relationship were healthy/balanced? • How did you tend to communicate? Were you able to speak openly, honestly, directly and without aggression? After answering those questions, scan the other important relationships in your life and see if anything stands out as a pattern. You might consider enlisting the help of a therapist in sorting this out, especially if you find yourself in psychologically, emotionally or physically abusive relationships.

 WHAT does it tell me that I have waited a week to continue this count down?  That I am lazy?  That I am letting days slip through my fingers, the final 987 days of living disregarded as if they would go on forever? No, of course not but I have not been right of late. Not in the heart, not in the mind and when you are not right the days get buried beneath the absence of joy.; It doesn't fucking matter.  What matters is IF I thought about this - I will turn 60 in what, 17 months SO I might not even have 987 days left to live.  Once I stop working I am fucked and my flat will be no more, my relationship will be no more and I will be fucked.  Now, maybe I can keep working after 60 no reason why not but imagine for fuck's sake Yes, I know, I have thought ok, fuck it lose it now, let it all go, what fucking difference does it make, deny love, deny hope, deny happiness and live the rest of your days curled up into this ball of hatred.   The whole thing ...