To Age Like a Fine Wine

As we may all have learned in Biology class, certain animals shed their skin, leaving delicate shells of their body behind. Also, as we may have been told by our elders, as you get older, people in your life will drop like flies. This may arise from a more keen sense of self and stronger dependence on self-reliance or these people who were once so close may even voluntarily slip away. Either way, in the past 6 months for the first time in my life, I have shed, not skin, but people. And just like the reptile who slithers out of the old and into the new, I don't look behind with regrets anymore.


Call it self-preservation.

One pattern or trend that has always been apparent, is the potential for grave disappointment when placing ones eggs in the hands of another. Whether those eggs hatch feelings, secrets or any other vulnerability, those people close to us are entrusted with such personal treasures. I can't afford to have another egg break on another's accord.

With no regrets I take the next step -- for fear the regret may hatch a poison to my soul. In accordance with these natural laws I must live, and one day I will see the merit. I fully anticipate my wisdom at 40 or 50, even 35 years old.

In this 26 year old frame, perhaps I do have one regret: that it has to be this way.

Until then,
SydVicious

The Haunting

{late friday, my phone rings}
{ 202-997-3*** } {that's him, i say}

The One.

---

What happens next is the disturbing part -- my palms start to leak, my stomach starts to turn with waves of nausea, sickness rising in my throat, my heart begins to beat so hard that all I can do is place my head between my legs and call the Lord's name repeatedly.*

Considering I was on the 6-11 shift at La Galeria, I knew I had to gain composure. I tried to stand up and couldn't. All I could do was continue calling His name, hand over my heart, staring blankly forward. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. What in the hell could he want from me? At once, the possibilities ran the spectrum from logical to illogical.

I answered.

Quickly, I made him aware that I was working, could not talk and would return the call after 11 PM. His simple reply, "Ok".

"Typical", I thought, and hung up.

In an attempt to gain whatever composure I could, my legs began to strengthen and I stood up. In disbelief of this physical reaction, and realizing I was still working, I threw myself into whatever busy, mind-numbing task(s) I could find, organizing frames, sweeping, whatever. This would have to be dealt with after 11 PM, after my shift. At that time, and only that time, could I fathom facing this.

Eventually, I decided not to call back. My reaction was pitiful, and I could no longer justify my sick attachment to this menace. Two days later however, I sent the elusive, intrinsically nonchalant text message. The rundown:

Me: "Is everything ok or are you calling because it's the holidays?"
Me: "It's just that it still kinda hurts..."

T.O.: "Everything is ok, just wanted to wish you and your family a safe holiday."

Me: "Please remember that we do not celebrate the holidays."

At this point, I am infuriated. Everyone that I know and has gotten to know me, knows that I do not celebrate any holidays, and neither does my family. Not only are we a small unit, we opt out for strict religious reasons. Don't think for a second that he is not aware of this, last season he pulled the same shit, to which I promptly replied with an emailed essay on "Why Christians Shouldn't Celebrate Christmas". While this may offend some readers, please understand that that was my express intention: To OFFEND.

T.O.: "I know, its just dangerous during the holidays and I wanted to make sure you were safe."

My anger rose.

Me: "We can't be friends. Please enjoy your life with your girlfriend and leave me out of it."

This is what happens every time we speak: all I think about are the new women in his life, his betrayal, my distrust, the weight and burden that I carry everyday, how quickly he was able to move on, how much I sacrificed for 'us', and how my biggest fear is that I will never get over him and may just carry this with me to the grave.

Me: "The last time we talked, you couldn't even say that 'you think about me sometimes'. You acted like it killed you to say. So please stop doing this to me."

He never replied, which is fine. In the silence, I realized that I resent him every time he pops up in my life like this. Whether it be for the holidays, or for the un-utterable fact that I crossed his mind. I repeat, I resent him when he contacts me. Not only that, but obviously, he triggers a nervous system response that certainly can't be healthy. In sum total, my words above are final. We can't be friends. Enjoy your life. And leave me out of it.

I know no other way to attempt this hurdle. Often I think, if only The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was possible. I know in the movie, the consequences of mind erasure are portrayed as dangerous, but I invite the risk. Either that or electro-shock therapy. Alas, both are not feasible in this century, so I must handle this burden in the only way I know.

I bid you farewell, my love.

Forever. Always.

---

*My symptoms were clearly akin to the sympathetic nervous systems' 'fight or flight' reflex taught in most psychology, cognition or behavioral courses. Simply put, and according to wikipedia.com, "the fight-or-flight response, also called the fright, fight or flight response, hyperarousal or the acute stress response, was first described by Walter Cannon in 1915. His theory states that animals react to threats with a general discharge of the sympathetic nervous system, priming the animal for fighting or fleeing."

Symptoms include "acceleration of heart and lung action, inhibition of stomach and intestinal action, general effect on the sphincters of the body, constriction of blood vessels in many parts of the body, liberation of nutrients for muscular action, dilation of blood vessels for muscles, inhibition of lacrimal gland (responsible for tear production) and salivation, dilation of pupil, relaxation of bladder, inhibition of erection**, auditory exclusion (loss of hearing), and tunnel vision (loss of peripheral vision)."

**This symptom was not a problem for me considering I have a vagina.

---

All at once, I finally took a moment and I'm realizing that: you're not coming back.
(And it finally hit me all at once.)
All at once, I started counting teardrops and at least a million fell, my eyes began to swell.
(And all my dreams were shattered all at once.)

Ever since I met you, you're the only love I've known.
And I cant forget you, though I must face it all alone.

All at once, I looked around and found that you were with another love, in someone elses arms.
(And all my dreams were shattered, all at once.)
All at once the smile that used to greet me brightened someone elses day. {You} took your smile away.
(And left me with just memories, all at once.)

All at once, I'm drifting on a lonely sea.
Wishing you'd come back to me.
And that's all that matters now.

Holding on to memories.
And it hurts me more than you know.
So much more than it shows.

All at once.
-- Whitney H., "All At Once", ca. 1985

---

Jockin' Sydney/Jockin' Sydney

While most may disagree (it is hard to believe), Beyonce Giselle Knowles has been jocking my style for a number of years. It's really difficult to prove that a celebrity is biting your style, of course most assume it to be the other way around: in your layman adoration of said celebrity, you emulate. Please do not be confused -- this is NOT the case with me and Mrs. Knowles-Carter.

She --jocks-- ME.

For years, I never had proof, only verbal speculation, which I mentioned fell on deaf ears of disbelief. The proof, my dear, is in the pudding, or rather yet, the proof is in Miami.


Please accept the following, Exhibit A:

DATE: January 20, 2008

LOCATION: King Size LES, NYC

ITEM: Blue, Diane von Furstenburg Dress (which looks fabulous by the way)



And of course, Exhibit B:

DATE: December 8, 2008 *nearly a year later*

LOCATION: Art Basel, Miami FL

ITEM: Blue, Diane von Furstenberg Dress





-- I rest my case --




Now, in the words of theYBF.com -- Who Ran It??