One frozen moment in time
I am hurrying (as I often do), from work – actually from teaching a Yoga class. Outside as I go to my car, it is blustery (blustery being somewhat of a misnomer) – it is incredibly windy and the wind sends the last of the leaves skittering across the walk. Mainly, I am concentrating on where I am going, walking, keeping my coat close to me – it is buttoned but the bottom is annoying me by flapping in the wind. For a second I think about the TV show ‘The Flying Nun’ – don’t ask me why…inane stupid thoughts! The weather is unseasonably warm (almost 65°) but the winds keep the pedestrians from noticing.
I look up for just a moment to get my bearings, and I am suddenly looking into the eyes of a stranger. He’s young, dark, seems to be of Arabic decent, he is intense in an unimaginable way. For the briefest time, our eyes meet – and, I know him, I can *feel* him; His anger, his restlessness, his despair. He is conflicted, caught between two worlds; the ancient world of his ancestors with its mosques, and hours of prayer-facing-East, devotion, duty, Allah – the love mixed with the fear, honor-bound, as old as the earth; smelling of jasmine and hookah pipe smoke; mingling with the mystery of the women – kohl-eyed, silent and forbidden…
He wants none of this, his soul yearns for flight, freedom. The ‘Western’ ways; things, that if he were to speak these desires aloud would get him ostracized or worse. Still, he wants ‘it’ – all of it – American as apple pie, bubble gum, pop music, blondes with doe eyes and long legs and fake tits who have loud, moaning, 4th-of-July orgasms. Yet…he knows somewhere in the empty echo-filled chambers of his mind he will never cross that line. This secret will only live and breathe in his imagination.
I look up for just a moment to get my bearings, and I am suddenly looking into the eyes of a stranger. He’s young, dark, seems to be of Arabic decent, he is intense in an unimaginable way. For the briefest time, our eyes meet – and, I know him, I can *feel* him; His anger, his restlessness, his despair. He is conflicted, caught between two worlds; the ancient world of his ancestors with its mosques, and hours of prayer-facing-East, devotion, duty, Allah – the love mixed with the fear, honor-bound, as old as the earth; smelling of jasmine and hookah pipe smoke; mingling with the mystery of the women – kohl-eyed, silent and forbidden…
He wants none of this, his soul yearns for flight, freedom. The ‘Western’ ways; things, that if he were to speak these desires aloud would get him ostracized or worse. Still, he wants ‘it’ – all of it – American as apple pie, bubble gum, pop music, blondes with doe eyes and long legs and fake tits who have loud, moaning, 4th-of-July orgasms. Yet…he knows somewhere in the empty echo-filled chambers of his mind he will never cross that line. This secret will only live and breathe in his imagination.
6 Comments:
gawd, woman, talk about stereotypes running amok! kohl eyed women and hookah pipes? blonde apple pie american women? smouldering exotic arab man? jesus!
Give me a friggin' break.
He's NOT identifying with those - neither am I - he's turning away from it all or at least wants to - but don't tell me stereotypoes don't exist on both sides of the fence and if you don't like reading this stuff - then don't
give *me* a break- the 'dont-read-this-if-you-don't-like-it' retort is becoming increasingly jejune wherever i find it.
stereotypes like that exist only in the minds of people who create and/or perpetrate them. do you *really* think that all this dark young man wants to do is shed his conflicted, mysterious past, steeped in romanticised notions of the oriental and leap headfirst into the 'freedom'- sex, pop and women- that only the west/america can give him? is that *all* you see in both his world and yours? you're an intelligent woman, this is the last kind of thing i expected to see on *your* blog. it's a lyrical post, but disappointingly closed.
OK not that I *need* to explain this - but I am going to for the sake of spineless anonymous people who seem to be 'bothered' every single fucking time I write something that does not suit them (again stop reading this blog you don't like it - change the blog - it's like changing the channel and if you don't like *THAT* answer, well pretty much you can go fuck yourself - it's *MY* blog)
This piece was from my *imagination* (do you know what *that* is Johnny and Susie?)
I did catch a glimpse of a young man and I built this *scenario* around him and *MY* thoughts. PERIOD *I* did not buy into any stereotypes by doing it - in fact in this little scenario it's what I was trying to point out in some ways - IMAGINATION and what happens when we connect with those things we've been told, those things we suspect, but those things that might not necessarily be true. If you need to have a literary critisism of my blog in order to read I suggest you go find yourself a life. Stop putting *YOUR* projected beliefs, fears, and judgments on me - OK! I am not here to answer to you about my writing.
FYI - I have vistied Arabic gathering places where guess what, there are old men sitting around smoking hookah pipes and drinking turkish coffee, AND FYI they attend mosques, AND FYI they are extremely devotiona people (which I consider to be a good thing), AND FYI their women are dressed from head to foot in black with kohl-rimmed eyes (which is all you can see of them) - which in my book makes them a bit 'forbidden' looking. GEEZ - perhaps you should visit there sometime.
AND I have seen American-as-apple-pie-cheerleader Blondes with *BIG FAKE TITS* who do have fake, loud 4th of July, moaning orgasms and for the most part brainless penises (WHITE, BLACK, ARABIC, ASIAN & otherwise) *ALWAYS* seem to be chasing after them. AND perhaps you should go check these women out sometime too. They exist.
By writing this piece, I was not writing this young man nor myself 'into a box' I was not suggesting it was the *ONLY* thing he or I ever think about. It was just a *scene* and for the time, the place, the *moment* it fit, and writing it any other way would have been a disservice - it would not have the same feel - and since you threw me a 'crumb' (oh thank you EVER so fucking much), by calling it lyrical - *YOU* seem to know that too! *rolls eyes*
So go to hell - your perceptions of what I write have nothing to do with who *I* am as a person - what I really think about things OR (and especially) *MY* intelligence level. I DON'T buy into stereotypes and one last friggin' time I did not imply my 'fake' character was either.
Now, if you want to read some non-offensive, politically correct blog that's not going to upset you, fine! Go do that! Because, if someone else's imagination or their *FICTIONAL* world isn't something you can handle - I suggest you go out there into blogdom and find something else to read - there has to be someone out there who won't challenge you, titilate you, or upset *YOUR* delicate sense of self-righteousness.
If *YOU* are going to start a war of words on my blog - have the decency to do it under your name and not as a coward.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
i'm not going to get into a war of words, that wasn't my intent. but i will say that for someone who tries to follow yogic principles of peace and harmony, you don't seem to take someone else's opinion well at all. that's all right, i don't know you and it doesn't make much of a difference to me, or you. each to his or her own. but swearing liberally and being extremely defensive isn't very scary.
have a good day, colette, be well :)
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I took your comment down but you know what...I have one last thing to say and we can stop...LOL - perhaps
How ridiculous you are - first of all YOGA has nothing to do with it - at all. There are people who practice Yoga who do all sorts of other things that don't jive with Yogic principles - oh well, welcome to life - it's not perfect, neither am I - I never claimed to be just because I am a Yoga teacher. I *TRY* to follow Yogic principles - it does not mean I alway succeed or that it has ANYTHING to do with my writing - sometimes you gotta step away from YOU (if you know what I mean - probably not).
YOU are right *I* don't take this crap well - and I will quantify what I *DON'T* take well - this is, (one more time) *MY* blog and what I don't take well is people posting anonymously without a spine. I am not defending myself because I don't have to - not to you - not to anyone - I am answering your comments and if you can't take it stop commenting and don't expect me to be nice and ladylike about this shit either - I did not write this to cause controversy and if it does again people need lives....this is just me writing one little thing - it's NOT earth shattering or important - it's an exercise in writing. Nothing more, nothing less.
AND you are right as well I don't care - but I am not going to sit back and NOT comment on your apparent lack of understanding of my writing or what you read - you put *YOUR* own spin on it - and that's OK. But it's *YOUR* projection my dear, not mine.
And I am not trying to be 'scary' and I swear ALL the time - too fucking bad. *laughs* Sometimes there is no other words that apply and I don't give a damn if ANYONE likes it or not - I am not writing this blog to entertain you, enlighten you or anger you - I am writing this blog for ME - that's right *I* am being selfish.
I hope you stay well too - feel free to keep visiting if you wish (or not) - I don't really care either way - but it would be nice to see something *YOU'VE* written and give people the same chance to tear it down.
As ever,
Colette
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