Some days

Another of my moon stories, because like perhaps I've said before, its better to shock than to bore your audience.

Transcription from a piece of paper dated Wednesday 17/18th August 2009.

I'm not completely sure about the date because I can't see. I can't see a calendar or my phone. Everything is blurry but my vision has improved since last night and the hallucinations are almost gone.

Yesterday, out of boredom and feeling lame and in the need of something different, I decided to use a present I received a couple of years ago. Two flowers. They were meant to be used in a tea. My handwriting is massive, I know, but my vision is so cloudy and... that thing was crazy. I got the flowers as a good bye present from friend that recently survived cancer. In Ecuadorian slang they're called Dormideras (sleepy flowers), after some research I found out that they are called 'Floripondio'. I also found out that they're used to develop a drug used to steal and rob people, the drug makes them loose their capabilities, will and memory.

My vision is weird. I want it back. After I made myself the tea and drank it all alone (I thought they weren't going to do anything other than calm me down) The tea started to kick in and it was weird. First my pupils grew and covered my whole iris. I saw the process in front of a mirror and it was fascinatingly scary. I saw many things that weren't there but mainly, I was unable to communicate. Talking to a friend in Skype was the weirdest thing ever. He was blurry and my little image in the corner was, well, red and had no eyes. I was home. My mom was there and we were supposed to eat dinner together. How on Earth? I couldn't hide and let the effect wither off. I wanted to through up but I couldn't walk to the bathroom.

When my step dad arrived I was tripping harder than ever. The random weird acts started. I was talking in Spanish to my British step dad and in English to my Ecuadorian mom. I tried to clean the toilet with my naked hands. I wanted to take pictures of everything. To be honest, I don't have many memories of that period of time. My step dad got so worried, I think they phoned all my friends and my boyfriend, then they phoned the Hospital. They wouldn't believe me that it was only 'a flower tea' that had done 'that' to me.

I was crazy. I still am a bit. Then, I was forced to through up but all I wanted to was to clean my sick or clean my teeth. So they took me to Hospital. I made myself sick another couple of times, loads of times. I didn't want my stomach washed. My mom had to dress me, it was embarrassing. They asked me what had happened, then the date, then the year, the month etc.. I couldn't answer to any of the questions. I was lost. Being in that state at Hospital is one scary experience. I felt better after puking, so I could answer questions like 'what month are we in?' they kept asking me those question, to keep me focused and awake and to know if my brain was fucking working. I'm so scared. My pupils were gigantic, they still are and that's what is making my vision so bad.

A bit of the effect was gone, so they started the tests. They took blood samples, my pressure, measured my heartbeat and whatever. I had like a million things plugged to my chest and fingers. They kept us there till almost 4:30 am. The results finally came and they found out that indeed, I just have had a 'flower tea' I was intoxicated and I'm anemic, they found out. They brought an old lady to the cubicle right in front of mine. She was stubbornly refusing to have a bag of fluid plugged to her arm. She was so obstinate, she said straight to the nurse's face 'I refuse'. They also brought some people from a car crash, all covered in blood. One of them was screaming constantly, rhythmically. I was suffering from dehydration and short term memory loss so I couldn't follow threads of conversation, my doctors were patient, and talked to me slowly and took notes I think. I was so mad at myself. They kept asking the same basic questions over and over. Whats the date today? Month? Year? Who is our Prime Minister? I knew the answers, someone laughed, I said something witty I guess...

My eyes had a life of their own, which looked scary to other people and was annoying for me because I was looking for water. So, they phoned the department of toxicology at the Guy Hospital in London. I was scared and feeling so bad for my parents, I've never seen them so scared. I don't remember where I left my watch, I couldn't see the letters on my Ipod thus I couldn't listen to music since I begun tripping, I couldn't see my phone's screen thus I couldn't phone or text anyone. I asked my step dad to text my boyfriend and tell him I'm OK. I wanted to leave, they wanted to leave... we were waiting for even more results. The doctor finally came in again and said 'we found... nothing more! besides the fact that she's anemic, but you already knew that.' I'm a vegetarian, what did you expect?. My two main doctors were female, the first one was specially pretty and kept saying 'OK, Alright' in a patronizing-I'm getting nothing out of this-but I'm sweet way. A black fat guy started dancing in front of my bed (which in all fairness, was a corridor and his mom was having an operation very near to where we were). They doctor gave me two yellowish pills in one of those tiny plastic glasses, that plus the weird robe (which I affirmed several times that my grandma would have liked) made me feel like a mental patient. Insane.

So we left. I couldn't stop crying, I was like so depressed. I still am. I feel the worst for my step dad and mom. They were so nice. After we got home, they said 'Let's pretend this never happened, just tell us when you get your vision back'. I just didn't think that thing was going to be so potent. I can't remember much but I do know that I wasn't in control at all. I only want to feel good again. Have normal eyes again and feel less insane.

New light makes... new people?

People change, that's a given. I think I change faster than most people though. Its kind of worrying me. Things that I wouldn't do yesterday, I probably would do tomorrow. My morals are riding this really fast and curvy roller coaster. It is that simple sometimes. I like to think of it as my 'evolution process'. As if I was mutating into something greater that this, that I am at the moment. I'm realizing the mistakes I make, by the minute. My ratio is quite high, but my ratio of realizing the crappy stuff I used to do before, under the light of new minute enlightenment period is higher.(its not that I don't like myself, I do, it has a lot of potential it just needs to... evolve) This sometimes happens by the minute. After finding out a new piece of information, my whole outlook is modified, let me explain. Today I read this whole blog about "unattractive celebrities" that this guy found attractive, like the ugly best friend of the main character or ageing actresses or breakfast TV presenters. After reading what seemed like the secret thoughts of a ten year old, I have a new way of seeing people. Of finding people charming and somehow, I now know, that everyone has some sort of tick to them.

http://idontcareifyouwouldntiwould.blogspot.com/?zx=2cd92b331cab8294

Most people who work in the celebrity business though, will discard a whole person if the shape of their ears made them less attractive. Unless you have personality to compensate or you just can't be ugly. This people will also build a temple of solid gold for anyone who crossed the line of average. That fucks up the beauty concepts and conduct of normal people, the majority of the population that has TV and rights, do care about celebrities in a weird almost religious way (i.e. build their lives trying to imitate that of the famous). I personally, don't know much if anything about celebrities... I prefer simple, anonymous people who will care about my feelings too. It is this people, whom I'll be seeing under a new light. Its kind of exciting. I might find some charm in myself too, you never know. Its sad, but one can judge people too quick too easily too harshly and this happens too often. I want to stop that. I want to find the mojo of people you would consider boring. I want Mr. boring to be my best friend. I think I haven't got much more to add except 'never judge a book by its cover' blah blah and sometimes, don't judge a book by its reviews either. Read it yourself.
your constantly evolving (hopefully...) friend,

x
azile

Actually

Pure actuality is to me, the hardest thing to achieve. Artists of all kinds and informants (journalists, etc) yearn it. Try to trap it or capture it, there's no use. Actuality escapes, slides away at its fastest speed, when you're trying your hardest to grab it and hold it. Seconds run past so quick that we loose count and start counting minutes, till minutes flow past so fast that we have to count hours and so on. obvious, yes. but what is actuality then? is it the lame little thing you're doing right this second? is actuality reading this words? is that your actual present (ie whatever is going on currently in your life in long term terms 'work' 'study' 'holiday')? or is actuality the historical context? the 2009 moment-era. this time period with all its characteristics (Obama, global warming, facebook why not, blogs, skinny people)wait! because this zeitgeist will be gone in yes, no time. because presidents of rich countries change (not as fast as presidents of poorer ones, check out Ecuador's presidential record) and the weather changes... it has been happening for thousands of years, what makes you think that it has to stay like this? The surface might change to give place to a better-more efficient- newer actual race of beings. With technology, the changes are even faster... I can see something overpowering facebook coming from the same people who brought you the ipod and iphone and ibook and the i cantbefunnyenough to invent something, soon.
So, I can say that I lived in time when skinny people were regarded as beautiful but the obesity rates were at their highest. That was my actual time. this is actuality then? when is music actual? When does it become obsolete? When is 'its' time to come back again? who creates the guidelines?
Who is this wizard that decides what is 'actually'? I might just be craving answers to questions that are relative to age/occupation/place where you're residing but have not definite answer, whatsoever. The sun not only shines for the cool. Different peoples persive things differently. Things are actual for a longer time for the old. A business man calculates time in paying checks that come and go, a runner in split seconds, a quantum scientists in another even smaller denomination, a bass player in tempos. So actually, only defines what is true in the exact moment when you formulate the words, for others, for yourself, once its said, its gone.
Just like that amazing holiday that is not actual anymore. but hey! after the actual come the memories. and the next actual moment, and then the memories again and then its all retro. etc. x