Mary Shaw

16/07/2016

i can forget all things except your love, if i remember that

tina is an illusion.

it was not she exactly who called me last night. it was her twisted sister, who i tried to embrace for my own.

though embracing her exactly you weren’t.

rather i was having the usual, threatened, competitive reaction to her tendency to be the proprietor of all worldly things. she was the solver of every problem and generally wanted to be

in charge.

the scenario unfolded in portugal, which is not too surprising since she had wanted to go to malta before she decided to change her mind and thought about coming to see me. also there was something very strong pulling me in the direction of portugal, something which has not quite yet been laid to rest.

so i was tossing and turning trying to figure out how to get myself out from under tina’s foot,

take a shower and dress yourself in your very own clothes,

without too much pressure from her vicinity, the needs and claims of her children, or from any other direction. and i wasn’t succeeding.

the scene was vastly unpleasant. everything was tainted. not just tainted in the way that things can be rough, things can be dirty, or blood or vomit even can splash all over the floor and make a terrible mess. it was tainted in the sense that there was still a heavy level of denial lying like a blanket on everything in sight. but it wasn’t a blanket that covered things. it was rather like a sheer coating of something toxic, like one can feel and see and smell everywhere in cheap hotels, where an attempt has been made to make the dirty clean, by the splashing on everywhere of a very nauseating chemical deodorant.

or if we want to move away from that which is purely odoriferous, we can think of the whole way that that soviet hotel in csezky krumlov looked, so shabby, so the opposite of everything that is old and glorious, because somebody in the 50s or the 60s or maybe before had thought it might be possible to

just wipe out the notion of god,

and the effects of time and history

and pretend like this world might be made liveable

by the simple thoughts of the human race.