Mais non, pas de tout

I've had a dreadful song by Huey Lewis in my head all week.

For those of you who were fans of the first posting apropos of la grande passion, this is going to come as a bit of a shock. Particularly as I've jumped 6 years. (One day I'll type up the weddding speech and the long missive that went into DIMIA).

I don't know how to start describing this. I've beeen calm, but right now, my stomach is knotting.

I should NOT have watched "Duets" twice. It was even too cheesy for Textaqueen, and she is the self proclaimed worlds first vegan cheese connosieur. Now I've beeen infected with Huey fucking Lewis.

My stomach still tightens.

Funny how the early eighties in on continual rerun. I now the world is bigger and better since twenty years ago, but pop culture is in denial.

What was that song by Kim Wilde?

"Le me be, why don't you babe,
get outta my life why don't you babe?
woo hoo hoo woohoo
"coz you don't really love me
You just keep me hangin on"

Someone has made it into a disco remake. If I hear it on a PA system I will weep.

I pretend to myself that its the one in her head. I imagine that this scene took place at Ding Dang dong - in the culmination of a magnificent tragic end to a karaoke evening infront of the same crowd that were at our wedding.

Actually the song she sang, which epitomised the day - the week, the month, the times -
was "Swing de Nul" by San Severino

"tous que je fair sont encore rate.......
swing de nul
swing de nul
tout ils sont une swing de nul
oh mellow mellow mellow mellow mellow"

This is a funky jazzy upbeat ditty that I intially thought wa about bad jazzlite

then Maybe about bad golf.

then maybe about bad golf as a metaphor for a failed existence (Everything I do fucks up).

this is closer to the point.


ah the point, that knife in the guts, If I breathe too deeply I can feel it.

Tears well in my eyes. It a friday night and I'm in the Postgraduate research centre.

Everything is beige.

there is air conditioning

this is a suitable place to announce a tragedy.

I haven't told a soul.

I don't think my mouth can actually form the words

hence huey lewis.

"If this is it
Please Let me go
If this ain't love
then can you just say so?
If this is it
I wanna know-oh woe oh
If this ain't love then
just let me go"

or words to that effect.

I could start on a verse "i've been thinking, and you've been drinking"

Magnificently roles reversed to reflect the reality of the times........

I only claim thought as a professional occupation not as a way of priveleging my own insight or intelligence.

hell no! she beats me every time on that.

what luxury! basking in a bigger brain than my own.

Deeper, sharper knowledge, stronger logic...........

this isn't a very interesting story I guess.

I'd been avoiding her all week - well, all month really.
She reckons all year.

I'd say all month.

And during morning coffee, (made from a drip filter - coz even our expresso machinge has been fucking up)

she said it.

My eyes wept.

Just sadness.

she is relieved.

I've got no anger, no energy - where the hell is my famous monstrous ego?

Guess it is wallowing on this keyboard.

Actually i've got lots of energy.

i've been hanging out all day to GO TO THE GYM

As Robert Lowell wrote " My mind's not right, I myself am hell"

and yes "my ill spririt sobs in each blood cell" While on bad memories of HSC poetry whihc is even worse than HSC top 40 music - where the hell is a choice John Donne line when I need one?

I'm sitting at Uni in the worskpace of my friend Simon.

He has an etymological dictionary.

At first I thought it was an entomologial dictionary and started reciting bits of the flea to myself in the hope of finding some incomprehensibly long and writhing latin name for an inomprehensibly long and writhing creature. I could have read the curbed tones of dlighted disgust and delighted in my own disgust and then imagined my own sorry little self as that inconceivably disgusting creature..........

Dracunculus Mediosis

now that's a toe curling favourite! It even ENTERS though the feet in stangnant swamps!

I just opened the dictionary randomly to "Heathen"
thank god for small mercies.

Oh god - this is becoming like my real diary - no manic screeds of 1,00 words an hour - but a slow random dribble of incoherent mutterings.........

this ,my friends, is the true shape of that sorry soul I have within me.
a fiercely well hidden secret of mine is that I HAVE A BEIGE SOUL.
I am very very boring

before my self hatred and self pity and general noxious wallowing takes hold - I will note two important facts.

I am in love
I am in shock

I don't have words for this situation.

She is so angry at me, so resentful of our successfully classified "interdependant" relationships that has suffocated her, that she wants out.

(needs out.
need sout
need stout
I need stout
What am I doing here?)


It's destroying our love. has destroyed desire.

she drinks and I hate her for it.
I don't need stout

and so, liberated by the blessing of Austudy - yep we finally have sufficient seperate incomes - she has called "time out".
so we can stop deluding ourselves that this is working.

what can I say?

I kind of liked the illusion
I thought love affairs were all about the illusion - that it would go forever, that we'd change ourselves and each other
that we'd solve or ignore the worlds ills.

It kinda worked for me

But then i've had more relatinships, have less sexual curiosity (been there done that), have less sexual desire, and we're here on my country, in my language, in the suburb where I've lived for 15 years.

This was another very safe part of my fairly safe life.

But what's worng with safety?
I don't even have a family to speak of


(now just stop, I can't sob in public and imagine if my Mum read this? she'd blame herself even more and for all the wrong things too........)

I wish I had a spicey story of a crazy histrionic tantrum.
Like the time I howled all night and bit the person who I dropped
Or the time that ........ oh yeah ... I am the one being dropped. the dropee

And lesbians are weird. the last girlfriend who dropped me - changed her mind after a couple of days.

then I could scream and rage
then I had a bigger ego and hadn't done primal scream therapy.

If anna changed her mind I'd be happy.
as happy as I am if she touches or holds or hugs me
whihc she still does

Textbook stuff says "no! set a limit!, assert your own position as a seperate person who has their own needs and boundaries"

but I have no boundaries, no position to defend

except "I'm here, please have me"

Not even a shred of anger!
She hasn't had sex with the neighbours, my mother, the cat or any of my best friends. (she IS my best friend)
Hasn't stolen any of my ideas or posessions
hasn't really fucked with my mind (maybe that is what is coming)
she hasn't yet proved herself to be a moron.

Overall I've had nearly seven wonderful years.
she has changed my life for the better.
I'd always take her back
I wish this wasn't happening

there is nothing i can do

(except go to the gym and lose 15 kilos and become one of those sleek muscely dykes that any girl would go crazy for)

and start hanging out at the Sly fox on wednesdays

Oh fuck, why?

I don't want anyone else

Strangely enough my desire to eat an entire packet of tim tams has completely vanished

I am in shock obviously

this is the start of a slow sad process, that is hard and awful for everyone I guess. and everyone around us.

thank god I am at uni and feel like less of a dork for writing Deleuzian Becomings

Deleuze describes the ontology of being as a state, not of being, fixed, definable, traceable, but of being on a trajectory.

I almost certainly sound like a pompous wanker for citing philosophy in such a glib manner, but I realy think that this is the best analogy for my experience of lesbianism that I can imagine.

I *did not* wake up one day and come out of a closet.

Lesbianism for me has been having the luck to be on a certain trajectory which has been the unfolding of a libidinous and euphoric awareness of myself and other women.

Next to this, men don't even touch the sides.

I have so slowly developed an awareness of my social self as homosexual. to be a woman in public who attracts and attracts other women...... and it has come through daily intimate life with another woman. My lover.

the trajectory of love is towards this constant reformation of ourselves and the other. A complicity of our mutual capacity to form and be formed by the other.

What we are heading towards now is an acknowledgement that this has reached its limit.

And slowly, agonisingly so, we back away, untie and move gingerly apart in to the cold waters of our own isolation.