pica_pica

YAY! I didnt die today. YAY LIFE!!!

Whew.

Ok my last post requires some clarification because it sounded all fucked up.

And I guess: --that it was.

Ive certainly had some personal entries on this site, and the most personal of which ended their postings quite some time ago. I suppose they ended around the same time I actually started to meet people from this site.

When I first started writing here, I was completely anonymous. That was easy and raw then. I held back nothing.
Why hold back?
I totally enjoyed the ability to come here to my empty apartment and open this tiny binary keyhole to my life. Peer in if you want, and if you dont want, then dont peer.

My journal here was simply some anonymous honesty of a man going through what we all go through at some point in our lives, but all of us hold back that full truth from most of our friends.
Well, none of you were my friends, so certain rules didnt apply to my words.

But apparently, there are rules out there, unwritten, unspoken, but seemingly universal.
Generally, that level of honesty is not welcomed in the west.

Honesty at the level of honesty of some of my early journals here were red and white striped stockings, and getting to know you all dropped a house on it.
Ding Dong.
Wicked, and somewhat sad.

It was my choice though. It was my reaction to being a social person again a social entity.. and I shut up mostly.

I did try to let the little bits through, I tried to fight off my kneejerk reaction to shut up.
I tried to remain real as I know me real, but its strange how we stifle ourselves. The sudden embarrassment of being human began to censor my updates, and except for today, that self censoring continues.

I miss it, and perhaps if I was stronger, I wouldnt succumb to the acceptable silence in regards to what is real in me. Perhaps I would still tell you all about how human I am in my sexuality and my insecurity, but then sometime next week we would all meet over drinks at Doolins, and you would look at me different.
So instead I blah blah blah tell you about my day at work.

As much as I hated the misogynistic Muslim reality that surrounded me while I lived in Cairo, I did find myself somewhat envious of the brotherhood that was so obvious in the streets and cafes. The men in small groups so lost in their emotional diatribes, hugging, holding hands and sometimes crying in their small, foreign, unisex tragedies Id see two men walking down through a busy souk, holding hands and oblivious to the noise surrounding their connection.
When I first arrived there, I was amazed at how prevalent homosexuality was on those religiously extremist streets.

It took a while for me to remove my tainted western glasses and understand that this was just plain Love I was seeing, love without sex. Nothing homosexual about it at all.

One afternoon I was writing in my book in a caf at the corner of a particularly busy intersection off of Talat Haarb st, and a rare Egyptian man fluent in English asked me what I was writing about.
His name was Abdul, (of course), and he was a student of philosophy at Cairo University. He was totally interested in my western perspective. He was completely ignorant about who these western women were, and we ended up sitting together over coffee and discussing the differences between western and eastern society.

I lived in downtown Cairo for around 4 months, and Abdul became my guide. Him and I totally hit it off, and he took me to all sorts of areas that I would never have seen without the gift of a local guide. I really appreciated knowing this guy.

He eventually became a really close friend to me while I was there, and it was him that explained to me the Muslim thoughts behind why you NEVER talked to a woman alone:

When you and a woman enter a room alone, there are three:
You, her, and the devil.

Harsh.

He was an interesting window into their world, but one day in particular, my western self reared up:

He showed up one day at my apartment with two tickets for Oscar Wildes The Importance of Being Earnest

The play was in town for 2 weeks, and he had bought us incredibly expensive front row tickets for the Cairo theatre.

Cairo has had quite a history, one I didnt really know about, and the Cairo theatre was an amazing display of French colonial architecture.
Cairo obviously still has quite a bit of old money and the night he showed up to pick me up for the play, he was wearing a tux.
He asked if I had something rich to wear.

Fuck. I didnt, really.. I had some nice clothes in my back back due to the fact that I was trying to get a job in the oil industry, so I pulled them out and had the woman that ran the building press them.

Ok heres the point:

We got out of the cab that night, and we were walking up towards the huge columns that framed the doors of the theatre. There were people everywhere outside: the Cairo elite.
The beautiful.
Abdul walked up beside me and put his arm around me, pulling me up against his side
I looked quickly around, and realized that like most of the other men in groups, we blended in with his arm around me so tight but I felt uncomfortable.
I guess I should have been complimented, but I was westernly uncomfortable.

--that wasnt gay. That was real. We were friends, and we understood eachother. This to him was completely normal, there was nothing sexual about it whatsoever, but holy shit I was uncomfortable.
Why arent WE like that?
Why is our society so fucked up about innocent intimacy?

I didnt pull away from his arm around me, but it was an anvil. My eyes darted from face to face of those in the crowd. I was thinking theyd see this and think bad things of me.
I walked stiff and was so happy to finally find our seats.
He had no qualms whatsoever walking so tightly pressed against me, there was no sex there.
Sometimes, our western shells suck.


It took me that long to hug my dad.
It took me that long to hug my guy friends, and even then we seem to make a point of slapping open hands hard against shoulder blades. No gripping hard and holding tight like we would with a woman..

fuckin A buddy! Gimme a fuckin hug you bastard!

That has become my journal. I have side stepped the honesty and realism of it, and I fill it with drivel about my dog, and my day at work.

And yet yesterday. I saw death.

Do I shut up in my western journal here?

I couldnt.

Heres the truth, peer if you want:

Ive had a persistent headache for the last few months. Never too debilitating, and yet never gone. I am constantly aware of this throb.
Well, three days ago, I was at the gym in the morning, and I was simply doing some incline dumbbell presses.

Maybe I wasnt breathing properly, maybe I pushed too hard. I dunno.. but all of a sudden my skull felt like it was about to explode.
I had to drop the weights and my head was swimming in pain. I was dizzy and nauseous.

I thought it would go away.. but it didnt.
I went home, and it stayed..

Eventually, I went to work and it never went away. It fucked up my vision and I havent been able to think straight I cant remember stuff right, I cant focus right..

So yesterday I went to go see the doctor, and apparently I am exhibiting all of the signs of a brain aneurism.

this morning, I woke with bloodshot eyes, and blood in both nostirls.

I went in this morning for blood tests, and I am slated for a CAT scan and MRI. I am not allowed to do anything strenuous in case I blow it out.

My journal this morning was just me being afraid.
Afraid and true.

Thats what I meant when I asked :
Whats been your biggest health scare ever? Have you ever realized that you were
close to death?


Im just a little scared, thats all.