Posted by: sulya | 6 August 2009

So Much Stupid Loss


I will write about poutine very soon and raise questions about why, exactly, airports feel the need to wade into the birth control racket but I just wound  up doubled over weeping with my body partly on the steering wheel, partly on the door and I just need to write somehow, in some way, about how loss sometimes just crashes over you like a wave….

So much stupid loss.

And I’m no clairvoyant mystical creature with magical powers but sometimes, sometimes I know that my vision is true — that I am seeing right into the heart of something or someone — into the heart of the interconnections between all kinds of somethings and someones… Listening under, seeing through.  It happens and sometimes when it happens I just know that I’ve got it right.

But it doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t matter what I see or how clearly I see it because I cannot change a damn thing but myself so you wind up this semi-tragic figure teetering on the edge of the boundaries of your self reaching up to the woven patterns of light and fire of the somethings or someones you want or have wanted and you can’t touch them, and you can’t change them even if you can see through the ramparts and darkness right to the brilliant, blinding beauty of the centre.  If no one else can see it too then it’s just you.  Just you, toes barely clinging to the crumbling boundaries of where you stop and the world begins and helplessness crashes in waves and waves and then cuz you can’t really fall out of yourself – you’re stuck with yourself, inside yourself, mired in the sticky anchored gravity of “self”  – you fall backwards.

You fall backwards and land face first on your steering wheel, your car door.  Covered in tears.

And I can’t tell what I mourn more – the fact that I cannot get people to walk the paths I see so clearly or the loss of people left behind on those paths.  I cannot tell how much is wounded ego and how much is broken heart.  I cannot tell if it is even more egocentric than all of that combined and that it’s all about me.  All about the “me”s I’ve not been able to get to walk the paths the other “me”s saw so clearly, about all the “me”s I’ve sacrificed and abandoned along the way and the stupid dumbfuck reasons I left them there huddled up in corners dark and dusty, steely and cold, while I walked into even dumber places because I couldn’t see the brilliant, blinding beauty at the centre of all of us, all of us huddled together beating out heartbr”ache” in rhythms through us and away from us until we shattered.

Bright shards shattered darkly.

And rebuilt.  Better.  Stronger by day.  By night.  By the light of good friends.

And still.

Still we wind up in a car and tear-strewn with the aching stupid loss of it all.



  1. I am sorry about your loss, honey.

    You know I am here with the porchlight on if you need me.

    Love you.

  2. Thanks for sharing Sulya. I lost a close relative last Friday and your writing hit home.

    Miss you.

  3. Jameela – Your light is especially beautiful and important. It has seen me through a lot of things over a lot of years. Thank you. I love you too.

    carl – I am so sorry to hear that you have lost a loved one. Much good energy and every good thing I can muster coming your way…

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