Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Count the Abacus

Lovers and Best Friends. Don't we all have them!!

I love my friends, especially those of you that give me a good cue to blog about. I have heard it said that men and woman are from different planets and I always say it’s a lazy cop out for people to refuse to understand someone just because they’re of a different gender. Still sometimes I find myself face to face with a situation where I find it really incredible to accept that the seeming naivety of the man in question is genuine. Unfortunately, for the most part it is.

And I say unfortunately very loosely here, because even though I empathize with the complexity of understanding the opposite sex, I fail to see how two and two won’t give you four if you have the abacus right in front of you and all you need to do is count!

I am not going into specifics here for respect of my muse (you know who you are). I love you to bits, you know that, but it’s very difficult not to touch the core of the matter here, so I’ll use my example and touch on your situation. It’ll make sense, you’ll see.

Now first question.

Why does a woman wear a form fitting outfit that reveals every delicious curve on her body? Yes, it is her size and it isn't tight....just revealing. True, but aren’t there also clothes her size that hang loose? She chose that particular style for a reason. Wanna guess?

Why does a man that is only a friend suddenly interested in knowing why that other fellow seems interested in you? Hey, you’ve both been good friends for a long time and he is only looking out for you…..or is he?

Why does she wear that wide-necked blouse, then tops it off with a very eye catching necklace that rests between her cleavage? OK, that was the size it came in. True, but why do you think it lies there?

Last question, but before I ask, I need to point something out. I have a great relationship with all my ex’s - ALL OF THEM, and I won’t find it out of place AT ALL if either of them calls or reaches out to me…. and they do too, often enough. Now with that said, I (Naan) regardless of what an awesome relationship we had in the past and how great we get along now, will never ( NEVER) consider an ex a ‘best friend’ material, very good friend, yes, best friend. N-E-V-E-R…..but this is just me, and more power to you if you can. That said.

Last week, I received an email from someone in my past. It was totally unexpected, and in a sense a pleasant surprise. It was then followed by a call a few hours later, then the very next day, then another email, you know, to find out what I had been up to and such, nothing wrong with that.

This person and I have a great relationship and we do check on each other often enough. But after 8 calls, five emails and two text messages in the span of four days, my radar picked something in that right away. This person had easy access to me and could call or write whenever they wanted, but for some reason or another had always been too busy with their lives; the demand of the job, parenting a pre-teen alone, living in another city….the usual. And I appreciate all of these reasons as it echoes my situation…..suddenly however this super busy person has the time to suddenly ‘drop by’ for a Pizza.

“Are you bringing the kid along?”

“Oh no, he’ll be at his grandma’s.”

“Aren’t you working? It’s a week day?”

“I could throw away a perfectly good day for a dear friend”

“O…..K……lunch then? Because I work this weekend and love my beauty sleep.”

“Lunch isn’t enough to catch up….you know? So many good memories…?”

Well, yes, some men are rather shallow like that, they just blurt it out. Women are subtle…..I won’t tell how the conversation ended, but long story short…..or rather, last question. Why does this understandably, super-busy person suddenly has a few hours to grab a bite and talk about old times? Hey, we ARE very good friends……could it be that something about my status threatens something about his place in my life?


Let’s quit hiding behind the guise of being na├»ve when an ex is making their presence felt, even if in subtle ‘friendly’ ways…..there is always a catch…..

So…. very good friends with ex eh? You may want to lay a more solid foundation of what you are building right now before you go playing lovers and best friends. Dude, count the abacus; it’s right in front of you! And I tell you this because I love you to bits and I want you happy….see? I told you I’ll make you anonymous and I pulled it. Yay!!……Seriously though, the obvious is always obvious if we care to look closely enough.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

We are Infections! Yes we are.

I have been thinking today. There are basically three kinds of people. Those that infect others, those that get infected and those that don’t infect yet profusely refuse infection. And from my experience, the most pleasant of the three to be around are those that have managed to create a healthy balance of all three. And the most unpleasant are the ones that cling to one trait and refuse the others. Believe it or not a little bit of infection and infecting is good for the soul and so also is resistance to infection.

I make it sound like a disease and I suppose in a sense it is.

I believe every person starts at a point, as a blank sheet, a clean slate. The experiences we have and the people we encounter begin slowly to paint a picture on the sheet that is us (And yes, we infect others as much as they infect us). And for the first few steps of the journey, we take in what we are presented with, partly because of its novelty and partly because we are waiting for the picture to become clearer, to make sense.

Some people are lucky enough to see almost right away that something is wrong with the picture painted and they resist it, and instead create a new theme for the painters to follow (remember the painters are the people we encounter and the experiences we live), and creating a theme is all about us deciding for ourselves how we want our pictures to be painted and what it will reveal eventually.

Others are less lucky they wait until the picture is almost done and recognizable before they halt it. Two things happen here, there is then either a heavy feeling of hopelessness at realizing how much damage has been done and submitting to the ugliness of that picture as one’s fate, or beginning the process of erasing it. Now the second option takes a lot of strength courage and determination.

Erasing a painting is nothing like erasing lead on paper. We’re talking colours, hues, textures – trying to make all of that a bland blankness is extremely difficult but not impossible. So in order to even arrive at a point where the general idea of the picture painted is dissolved, a chopping, chiseling and shedding of one’s personality occurs until by the time you arrive at that dirty but plain blandness of an erased picture you are someone else, albeit still you.

Again at this point, you can decide to hike up your spunk a notch higher and attempt to draw a new picture on the dirty canvass, maybe not with as many colours, but textures and hues and shadows, and with enough determination you might be able to create a silhouette that is breathtaking. Not all is lost. Alternatively, you can rest. And most people do and it’s understandable too.

The third kind of person is the sort I call the coward. That’s the one that doesn’t like the picture painted, stops it midway, refuses to decide on a theme and basically is suspicious of anyone that attempts intimacy. Worse still hasn’t the courage to retrace their steps to recreate the picture. So, they carry on with a half painted canvass that says nothing yet is loudly colourful.

Interestingly though, the whole experience makes us to a certain degree infective, some are rather imposing with themselves on other, probably for fear that if they don’t ‘do’, they will be ‘done for’. Others are just too exhausted from resisting that they settle for whatever infection is imposed on them and the cowards although hardly ever infect anyone, fight infection profusely.

Infection is not altogether a bad thing because (believe it or not) there are those that have learned the hard way and have realized that life is all about sowing what you reap. They infect positively because it’s what they hope to get in return, even if not from the same channel.

What I am saying is, NO ONE ever has the perfect picture painted by just being passive. Activity can create or destroy, but the ability to be recognize the creating power and to reach for it, takes initiative….SO, the question is, what does your painting say? What do you want it to say? And what are you doing to make it say just that?

Saturday, September 03, 2011


I wish I could love you from before the flood
Till well after The Second Coming of the Jew.
Wish I could love with all my blood
Like the wriggling worm loves the flesh of you.
Wish I was yours alone to make you fine,
Time and again I lay my life on the line,
But, baby, I’m cheated every time
By this Vagabond Heart of mine.

Wish I could take you home right now
Pay allegiance with all my soul to you alone
Wish I could be faithful to you somehow
Be yours to love and hold, be yours to own
I’d save my life for you alone but it’s no use.
My blue blood boils at the voice of my Muse,
Her siren call I just can’t refuse,
This Vagabond Heart you must excuse

Wish I was the sweet dream you dream every night
The morning sun that kisses your waking soul.
Wish I was the passion that gives your eyes their light,
The refining fire that purifies the gold.
The deep in your calls to the deep in me,
You can make me all I ever wanna be,
But a fatal impulse keeps thwarting me
This Vagabond Heart will be the end of me.

©Naan Pocen

Tailing Iscariot.

He walked with a ring on his ear
He thinks pain is in tears:
I have lived with pain for a long time
So a simple head nod
And soft painful sighs
Speak to me more
Than a thousand sad words
Or a torrent of tears.
He walked before me boldly
He believed the world
should be conqured with offensive rage
But I have fought too many times
And true victory isn't
In the little battles
But in being the conqueror
At the end of the war.
He walked with his loin cloth baring his butt
He wanted to lead the way;
He truly felt he had it all figured out.
He wanted to put me in place,
But the bare sight of his nakedness
Revealed a vulnerability
That I cover; standing behind
Made me his shield.
He walked fast, looking up, barking orders
He forgot that sometimes when
The wind is speaking, we can only hear in silence
I heard the warning
But I could not convey it
He was still howling and gliding on
And heading toward the trap;
And I saw him fall.
He should get up and carry on and be.
He may get it at last
That pain is beyond tears, rage never conquers
And no one ever does it alone;
None knows it all or figured out.
He may even realize
That our true strength is
In our very weakness.
©Naan Pocen