Thursday, 8 June 2017

Natural's Crystal Castles


I'd known they were coming for months
I'd asked most if they were keen 
The resounding answer was no
No group mentality 
No one knew who they were
No one knew them

The four weeks leading up were my darkest yet
It's not an exaggeration 
Ask anyone 
I'd painted myself in a corner when there wasn't time to let the paint dry
The moment was coming 
Where I'd need to sit on the unpainted small square of wooden floor
Slowly and reluctantly pulling each big girl boot over each of my tiny, tired hooves
Vibrating to every echoing response to the velocity of my gait through toxic smells and sticky resistance 
Axiomatic that I couldn't give a damn that it was all for naught and about the added mess on my way out

After two days of straight listening and a strange dream about the show, two brothers, four yoga mats, four lips and a kiss

I resolved to go it alone

I suppose my canvassing wasn't vigilant
Jamie Lee probably would have loved the shit out of it
But I didn't ask her
I don't know why
Wedged between a strange dream, the dark, a rut and the resounding ornamental sound 
My silent hill

That day, I'd had the worst day
It was the first time I'd ever said: I don't love my job; emotionally stonewalled; physiologically exhausted; neurally negative; all over drained; spiritually anxious; bindingly alcoholic; unequivocally alone; despairingly ugly. 

With them in my ears I proffered the following into the universe: Give me something. Give me anything. Just say yes or no.

The night came
I was tired
In my usually weird work clothes
Let's get real, they were weirder and more awful than usual 

B knew I was down, so we got up to our old dog day tricks and visited the Buddha with a bottle of red 
My veracious yogi joined
The lads got on as I knew they would
We gathered, communed and revelled
My spirits lifted, but that damned Peter Pan Crocodile with the blasted clock between his bearing teeth kept chasing me
I finally interrupted the flow
I said: it's time lads, I'm gonna go it alone 
I was slightly nervous, but going alone was better than not going at all 

VY said we could suss out the scene, so we sat back to let a gypsy sorcerer lead the way
Lit as the wild
The gates of the Tivoli were tattered and old save for the vibrations of that resounding ornamental sound 
I was running on my good name, but the gatekeeper wanted gieldan

In my true clumsy Canadian fashion I claimed that the puck had already dropped 
Between confusion of the terms or the kindness of the universe, without half a pence the heavy wooden gates battered behind VY and I
The two persons of least importance had arrived 

It would take me several thousand words, sounds, smells, photos and feelings to accurately convey the ensuing hours, so I'll sum it up in one:


That moment of breaking between the stillness of our tireless efforts to live  

I didn't even know till the moment of arrival it would work out at all. It didn't turn out in any way I contemplated, but it turned out. 

The universe shouted two things loudly that day:
Natural, sometimes the answer is yes; and
You don't always have to go alone

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