Petites Pensées ~ What Might Have Been

Another of those very rare dreams about you last night
Let me be clear, this isn’t me pining, not in the least
It does strike me as rather sad though
Two people who once had so much to say to each other
Can’t find it in their hearts to observe even the social courtesies
Using technology instead of words
Maintaining the most tenuous of connections
Where once the sound of each other’s voices
Was the only sound our hearts could hear

~ kei
13 August 2017

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Petites Pensées ~ Just Do It

Apropos of nothing specific, just on my mind
How much nicer would the world be
How much needless hurt and resentment gone
If only humans would rediscover the lost art of personal responsibility

The simple fact of owning that you did something wrong
instead of blaming the bus, the fax machine, the dude next door
Just say, “I messed up and I’m sorry”, “It was my mistake and I apologize”

~ kei
8 July 2017

Meanwhile, Back At The Internet Café

I wrote this at the height of the “Gaslighting” phase of my two-year relationship with a Narcissist Predator. It’s really strange to go back and read my poetry and short stories from the period. Such highs! Such lows… So much love and romance but also black despair and suicidal tendencies. Scrolling through my journals, I found this draft and smiled a little. It is a sarcastic satirical and black-humoured piece. I was trying to cope with the assemblage of hoydens he’d gathered by writing about them the way he talked about them – never could figure why they just kept on lurking despite his insistence that “they were stalkers, knew he was engaged, were jealous of me”… Anyywaayy…
What I see now is the inkling of my comprehension of the pattern, how Apaths of varying degrees fit in to my story, lending credence, alibis or window-dressing as he required. Truly amazing, the effort he expended to keep me fooled or manipulate me to do certain things (my favourite was “Baby, would you comment more on my blog? People love to see us as a real couple, not just our books”) The funniest part is that “The Ladies” written about here are indeed real people, unlike some of the ones he created. Bruce Jenner had nothing on my poet! And I can actually smile, if ruefully at that today.

~~~~~

When I look back on how it all went down, I see it as if I was in a horror movie, a very bad, B-grade horror movie.

You know the ones, where you’re in a normal place, doing regular things and you look up to see that everything has gone to black and white. What you thought were people have all morphed into scary doll creatures or zombies and they’ve all turned to stare at you. Meanwhile, bit players drop in and out, talking to the zombie vampire people, buying their coffees, talking and laughing and totally oblivious to the fact that we are now all in a Hammer Film production. You look at this and wonder, like I still do; how can they not see the evil intent? How can they not know that those smiling mouths are full of lies and those pious old gals, gardening grannies and wholesome looking farmers’ daughter types are all bent on messing with lives out of unbridled jealousy and hatred and for their own twisted amusement? You want to yell, “Don’t open the door!” to the protagonist but… it’s you.

All of that came later though. When I first stumbled across it, the cafe was a fun place to be, good eats, good coffee and the owner had a smile and a poem for everyone. It was easy to see that the regulars at the banquette table at the back were indulging in some pretty serious geriatric flirting with the Café owner. He took it good naturedly, and it was nice to see that even those who could barely spell; always received a kind word of encouragement. There were no signs of the undercurrents of crazy when everyone connected to this story first met. Actually, in a Stepford Wives way, the regulars welcomed newcomers in.
That’s how I first became acquainted with them. The Ladies. Or as I later came to think of them: The Post Menopausal & Poseur Poetaster Club, of the Internet Poetry Café.
I like alliteration. Deal with it.

You remember how it was, right? Lots of laughs, inspiration and folks coming and going at all hours, The Ladies gathered at their table; Hist’mina Munchhausen Fibthorne – “Wheezy” to her friends, Maia Witless Artesian, Guerensy Rime Mooerson and Cheri Del’Usional Aprils. All chatting it up with the cafe owner, smiles, moues, coy glances and “What do you think of my stories?” “Can you help me with this sonnet?”

Who ever would have guessed that such ordinary looking grannies, could harbour thoughts worthy of “Arsenic and Old Lace”, not to mention a healthy dose of “Fatal Attraction?” Fitting analogy that. A tale of sinister plots, deceptive old dolls and a plot twist: married and attached gals who would lie, cheat and write their own men out of the script for a chance to get into the handsome Café owner’s pants.

I never would have guessed, naive I suppose. I saw a nice place to stop in to, my battered journals in hand and to share some thoughts with the regulars, The Ladies of the Banquette. Mentors, right? That’s what I was thinking at first.

Monsters, more like.

More like indeed! Like attracts like doesn’t it? As the Café grew in popularity, newcomers joined the original self-appointed harem.  Des DoubledipmyBunn and Anglésa BlueWindyChapeau decided to write themselves in. Fortunately, the Café owner was more a fan of Albert Camus than Archie comics.

Then there was me. Quietly observing, scribbling away as I always had . How could I know that the Café owner would take an interest in my stories? Who ever would have thought that this would so stir the ire of The Ladies and later, their minions? Not me. That’s for damn sure. I walked in there like a lamb to slaughter, they had their poisoned pens aimed and the hot flashes got hotter.

But that’s another story for another day…

~ kei
2013 sometime…

You Want To Get Caught

Insomnia, sort of but mostly a manic phase of ADD
My brain is in full on squirrel monkey mode
Two AM thoughts have me up and typing at the Witching Hour
I remember having to explain this term to P, he’d not heard it before
Ironic, as most of my street smarts about the Information Highway were lessons he taught
Funny too that I’m awake due to the asshats driving by… just another spring time, post studies, pre exam, suburban Friday night. I guess it’s something that these are 3D asshats
Roads, highways, crossroads and forks
I’m older than dirt (older than 31/4’s, older than DOS, older than MacIntosh) in Internet years. The short story is, I grew up with it and have never been without a computer. I like to think I’m pretty savvy… I grew up with Northern Telecom HQ in my backyard, I worked for Mitel, Newbridge and iSTAT. I thought I knew some some. That’s always the downfall, right?
We think we know about this because we know that
So, the thing is, I’ve had some horrific experiences on the Internet and if it could happen to me, it could happen to anyone
If you’re putting it on the Internet, you want to get caught or you want someone else to find it. No, not quite the same thing
You think a carbon footprint is hard to minimize? When solid actions hit bandwidth they become dust in the wind and can’t ever be erased or hidden. Ever. Everything leaves a trail
I don’t know why I care about a perfect stranger… I can’t even say what not to do because it sounds preachy and judgemental but I can say why not to
If it’s on the Internet, it can be found. Someone will look for it, or stumble over it, even if it’s been deleted, even if the most elaborate schemes have been concocted to hide it. It might be manufactured – mostly what happened to me – or it might be your own choice but that shit is out there forever. In the context of a loving relationship, I’ve done same… and when the relationship ended… Not the same as those who “just play” or are having an affair but the result was the same

So if you really don’t want your husband / boyfriend / wife / girlfriend to know… don’t post those pictures, videos, whatever. It’s bloody sad that it’s not just teenagers who are the only idiots about this… I mean those “adults” who do this deliberately… yeah, yeah, thrilling and all that shit but what happens when the breakup comes, you forget to log off, she doesn’t like being dumped, he takes an interest in your Pinterest
Or maybe it happens like with me… He forgot that he gave me all his logins, to all his blogs, his Facebook, I ran both our FB pages at different times, had his banking info… on and on… Maybe think about that before you send a message or photo to someone
Gah!! My retinas!!
Funny how our choices and actions can be in direct opposite to what we say we want
You said you don’t want him to know, that you love him – your words. Then stop posting the pictures, the videos and all the other shit you’re doing. Your actions say you want to get caught. The result will be you’ll lose him. Have the balls to end it and let him keep his dignity or stop doing what you’re doing. I do care and am worried for you
It’s that simple
Not preachin’, just sleepless as the anniversary and the other anniversary are just hours away now and all that dust in the wind that he, me and the others kicked up, swirls all around my thoughts… and can still be found in virtual corners

~ kei
23 May 2015