Don't Panic!!! Welocome To Holly Golightly's mad mad world.

 Dante Dante Dante!!! How is it that I can go from such a deep deep depression dying from the aches of a scorned love, to the heights of delight at the horizon of the prospect of new love. Love, no not yet, definitely not yet, but very much in like. A lot of like. In a previous blog, I asked you Dante, you wonderous philosopher on love, (read his Vita Nuova) how to extricate the painful and destructive force that is love,  only to find that I end up in its slippery grip once more. I find that love is not without a sense irony or humour.  So i laugh, ha  ha  ha HA, at Love's macabre  sense of humour,  for I was at the throes of  DEATH not so long ago, and now I am caught in the flurry that we call LIFE. (and i am enjoying it) (the rush, the beauty are all greatest before the fall, i warn myself, but love is worth the pain, there is BEAUTY even in PAIN, but i am off topic now)   I have thought about it Dante and I always said that you never left me an answer on how to get rid of the pain, the endescrible pain that love leaves behind. The kind of pain that tears a hole in your soul and leaves you standing in an endless and opaque abyss where you scream unending screams where no sound is uttered, yet the blinding and crippling pain can be felt for miles around.  Its excrutiating, everyone who has loved truely and deeply and has lost love has felt this pain, they know of what I speak, yet no one, nothing can take it away. But for some reason this is true, it doesn't go away, it never goes you will always be screaming, it is just that the screaming at times gets quieted by other things or people that come into our lives to help keep our sanity, or regain our sanity once it has been lost. Dante I think I have found myself an answer I can live with, an answer that wont keep me awake at night, where I keep friends with ghosts racking my brain wondering where it was that "I" went wrong.  Dante Dante Dante!!!  The feeling of being unloved, the feeling of being worthless, the feeling of not being worth your weight in gold, ha HA ha, that is loves macarbre sense of humour.
   The answer is to lift your head, with all the strength and power you have left, lift your head as high as you can. In all the glory of your misery and through the alkaline tears that fall from your eyes and stain your face look to the crowds, look out at them, search them, study the faces of the people that surround you, of the people that pass you by, of the people you meet.  When you reach the face that lights at the sight of your haggard frame and tired face you have been found. You will find that person. It is in that person that healing and love can be found. When a person looks at you and sees the torture and the pain in your eyes and the turmoil like a tornado in your soul and finds beauty, pure beauty, and cannot look away because to them you are captivating. They do not see us in perfection, I ask, for what is perfection? (If perfection were to exist, it is unattainable. Perfection is an ideal and an institution that is a cage that people have created, in order that we could be assured of failure.)  It is in the bowels of created perfection when we first fell into Love’s trap, when we had our hair done up, make-up on to precise detail, and fake dazzling smiles that match the pricy clothes bought with our souls. The fake perfection tried to hide our faults from Love but, (perfection, being what it is) we were bound to be found inherently imperfect by Love’s penetrating and stealing gaze and it is for our shortcomings that it is down into Love’s cold abyss that we were thrown away as rejects. Love is Fickle, Love fell for what it saw, but found our cracks and faults and said “No, I do not want your imperfection.” Yet, that person whose face lights up at first glance when seeing us in fallen grace, is the person who sees the cracks, the fissures, the faults, the imperfections, and says, “I see beauty, I see art, and I want it, I love it. You are mine.”   
    So, what is the answer; keep moving, keep living, keep loving, lift your head and look. Once we fall into Love, there is no way out, because we are creatures of Love that were meant to love. Love is cyclical, love is crazy, love is non-sensical, love is pain, love is moments of pure joy, love comes and love goes, but in the end love always comes back in one form or another. Just muster up the courage and strength to lift your head up and look.

XOXO,
AnaMaria Gonzalez 2007, Jan 12