CHOONGHUIPING (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bluemlove) wrote,@ 2007-09-29 11:10:00 |
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I watched, as if I were a spectator of my own life, as my heart struggled vainly not to allow itself to be seduced by a woman who didn't belong to my world. I applauded when reason lost the battle, and all I could do was surrender and accept that I was in love.
That love led me to see things I'd never imagined could exist- rituals, materialisations, traces. Believing I was blinded by love, I doubted everything, but doubt, far from paralyzing me, pushed me into directions of oceans whose very existence I couldn't admit. It was this same energy which, in difficult times, helped me to confront the cynicism of journalist colleagues and to write about Athena and her work. And since that love remains alive, the energy remains, even though Athena is dead, even though all I want now is to forget what I saw and learned. I could navigate that world only with Athena.
I wake and fall asleep with that certainty; it's best that Athena left when she did rather than descend into the infernos of this world. She would never have regained her peace of mind after the events that earned her the nickname 'the Witch of Portobello'. The rest of her life would have been a bitter clash between her personal dreams and collective reality. Knowing her as I did, she would have battled on to the end, wasting her energy and joy on trying to prove something that no one, absolutely no one, was prepared to believe.
I also know that at, at night, another part of me will remain wandering in space, in contact with things as real as the pack of cigarettes and the glass of gin before me now. My soul will dance with Athena's soul; I'll be with her while i sleep; I'll wake up sweating and go into the kitchen for a glass of water. I'll understand that in order to combat ghosts you must use weapons that form no part of reality. Then, following the advice of my grandmother, I"ll place an open pair of scissors on my bedside table to snip off the end of my dream.
The next day, I'll look at the scissors with a touch of regret, but I must adapt to living in the world again or risk going mad.
-The Witch of Portobello
That love led me to see things I'd never imagined could exist- rituals, materialisations, traces. Believing I was blinded by love, I doubted everything, but doubt, far from paralyzing me, pushed me into directions of oceans whose very existence I couldn't admit. It was this same energy which, in difficult times, helped me to confront the cynicism of journalist colleagues and to write about Athena and her work. And since that love remains alive, the energy remains, even though Athena is dead, even though all I want now is to forget what I saw and learned. I could navigate that world only with Athena.
I wake and fall asleep with that certainty; it's best that Athena left when she did rather than descend into the infernos of this world. She would never have regained her peace of mind after the events that earned her the nickname 'the Witch of Portobello'. The rest of her life would have been a bitter clash between her personal dreams and collective reality. Knowing her as I did, she would have battled on to the end, wasting her energy and joy on trying to prove something that no one, absolutely no one, was prepared to believe.
I also know that at, at night, another part of me will remain wandering in space, in contact with things as real as the pack of cigarettes and the glass of gin before me now. My soul will dance with Athena's soul; I'll be with her while i sleep; I'll wake up sweating and go into the kitchen for a glass of water. I'll understand that in order to combat ghosts you must use weapons that form no part of reality. Then, following the advice of my grandmother, I"ll place an open pair of scissors on my bedside table to snip off the end of my dream.
The next day, I'll look at the scissors with a touch of regret, but I must adapt to living in the world again or risk going mad.
-The Witch of Portobello
