Of Loneliness and Solitude

Sometimes it gets lonely. My fault for having stayed childless perhaps. But as one woman told me lately, 'il-Bambin jahseb f'kulhadd!'. I'm not too sure what that's supposed to mean, or perhaps I know but I don't even want to think about it. I hope God thinks about me in Euro denomination, although I'd take sterling, the dollar, credit cards and even a cheque from God. You don't expect God to write out bad cheques. But not even Godly Euro sometimes do the trick when loneliness sets in. I sometimes think that it's what makes the English language so brilliant. It created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone, just as Ludwig van Beethoven expresses it so clearly in the first few bars of the second movement of his 7th. Symphony. But then the English language also created the word solitude to express the glory of being alone. And old Ludwig did that too in the last few bars of the same movement of the same symphony. So which do I choose? I like the word glory, but not the word pain. I try my best to escape pain, although sometimes end up thigh deep in it. But today I go for the glory. Because after that comes the power.

Worship

In a few hours it'll be yet another summer night, and I'll be properly awake for it. Right now I'm just lounging trying to get something done and knowing I'm not going to get anything done at all. But that's ok because it's summer and I forgive myself because of the heat. Although it's fully air conditioned here, but still, if it isn't the heat inside then it's the one outside. I realise that someone who should be close, perhaps is not that close. Because while I share his interests, he thinks writing isn't exactly something to while the time with. I hate that. For one, I'm a Leo and I want to be adored and worshipped. For a second, I am quite akin to Malta's ancient Goddess of Fertility so again I want to be adored and worshipped, and this time also revered. It does not matter if I haven't yet put my fertility to the test, I am still very quite like her, and I don't think it says anywhere in Maltese history books whether the Goddess had a dozen kids either. A third, I expect to be honoured and adored and worshipped and revered because that is what's there behind my shy nature. And yet I'm not getting any, worshipping that is. So that should make me feel angry, bad? It should. But it doesn't. Because it suddenly opened the road so clearly to all of my thoughts and behavioural patterns whether they be dysfunctional or not. It is not for you to judge, it's for me the Goddess. Because if a man has a Goddess by his side and gets so worked up in his whatevers that he decides her blog is no big deal... well then he deserves everything he gets. Because my blog is what's me and mine. Sometimes the most intelligent of people make the stupidest mistakes. While the brainy ones... make no mistake about them.

Riddles

It's 2 am and I'm up. Nothing unusual, I've got used to seeing the clock chime 2 am. I just wish it didn't sound so eerie, but what can I do? Stifle it, gag it, suffocate it? I just hate clocks, they keep hurrying me round there and there while I want to take my time. Because a true lady always takes her time. Or something like that. Tick-toking doesn't exactly remind me of a desirable man either. The thought of him makes me want to throw up, mean old man who life will punish soon enough. But it's Saturday night so it's still early, Saturday nights are spent doing what I like best. Let's say writing is among the things I like best. It's when I can connect with my world, with whatever runs my world, and whatever is my prized possession. And that doesn't even sound like it. I'm trying to explain a riddle with a riddle, I'm not sure even the English language has a name for that. And that could mean a great mind... or a senile one. Or both. But then love isn't very reasonable either. My taste in men could do with an uplift, nothing which brain surgery wouldn't solve. And yet to me it's made sense all along. Not to my mother of course, but that could mean a good thing. It's not as I've been oh so lucky either. But I'm still here. And that should be an achievement. And I'm still a person, so I still have needs and desires and wants. And this time I'm not talking about 'needing' shoes and jewellery. It's needing something so innate that it makes me shudder. But it's Saturday night, and I'll get my fix. I don't ever want the riddle to stop.