In 2009 Michael Jackson died. No-duh. Well I wasn't in Australia at the time, I was in some place in Indonesia on my first holiday since whenever. It was a bittersweet holiday in more ways than one actually. Not only did MJ die and it was all that I saw in any SKY TV for the whole holiday :( but also the man who invited myself and my son James on this holiday turned out to be a bit of a Judas when it came to his heart. I fear I was played for a fool, but still I got a 10 grand holiday for myself and my son for zip .. so how foolish is that I hear you ask? But it wasn't the money. I had fallen into some kind of trance over this little Scottish fellow with a lust for endless soliloquies and a good heart with no home. I thought he meant to make my heart a home for his heart, as he told me innumerable times. In fact, he even told the co-worker at the office (he owns a spare-parts business in the air-conditioning industry) that she'd better start looking at hats etc. (meaning there could be a marriage on the horizon). You know it was REALLY REALLY unfair and out of line to treat a good heart (MINE) with such lies and deceit. I believed every single fucking word this Scottish bastard said to me. And then one day, he disappeared. His sister rang up and said he had a headache. Strange, he looked at me in such a weird and scary way the last time I saw him. It was as though he was looking at me for the final time and having a really good long last look and seeing what was REALLY there. I don't think he liked what he saw. I'm not sure why ~ only that perhaps I was so NAIVE and that he played me so well and got away with it. WHAT A STUPID STUPID BITCH YOU MUST BE ... I COULD HEAR HIS MIND SAYING TO ME ...
So I tried to get on with my life after that. Pick up the pieces, you know. Strange, I've been doing that all my life. Ever since I was 10 and my sister committed suicide and my Mother started crying at my bedside nightly. I have been picking up the pieces of my life for so long that I'm so used to it now. I've thought of giving up, trust me. And some people in the *SHRINK* game will tell you it's courage. It's not fucking courage. Maybe it's a touch of not wanting to hurt your family and put them through any unnecessary hell. But basically it's the pain. I'm just a wimp, is all.
So anyway, sorry for not such a HAPPY post this evening. I thought I could make some miraculous twist for you and make it ALRIGHT IN THE END. You know, like they do in Hollywood Movies of yesteryear. But the pain is Bittersweet. Somehow, when you have tasted as much pain as I have, the good is even sweeter. So don't be ashamed of your pain. But don't flaunt it either. There's nothing worse than witnessing an argument about whose had the worst life situation. Oh fuck please spare us all ok?
Just remember that, if you live in the western world you're still lucky. The day might come when that premise is no longer true, I DON'T KNOW. Maybe Africa had it right before the white invasion. Maybe we should have left them to it? Who is to say that civilization is any BETTER than a tribal existence? It's just different is all.
I'M JUST DIFFERENT. I GUESS. JUST SO DIFFERENT ... FROM ANY OF YOU XXX.