Basia Unleashed

New Year, new me, new you, new everyone. New hopes for you, me, world peace and Manolo Blahnik drastically reducing the price of his shoes. Every year it is the same, every year we say "ah but this year I'll make it so" and every year we realise that we haven't done anything.

Taking a chance seems the biggest risk imaginable, especially when it means giving up your comfort zone and striking out into the unknown. Jumping into the void with your eyes shut is, however, the biggest thrill that thrill seekers experience. Regret is not a word in my dictionary - especially when it comes to regretting things I have never done. If am lucid enough on my death bed, I do not, actually I refuse, to be thinking "what if I'd gone to....what if I'd done....how would my life have been?" Imagine ending your life with regrets.

Of course, wearing your heart on your sleeve ensures more than the average amount of heartache. Being open to the unknown brings with it a set of keys that can unlock unbelievable experiences of pleasure and pain. But eventually, the sleep walking through year after year, has to end.

As it is written, so shall it be...

Those of you who know me well will know that when it comes to upping and going, I am pretty good at it. My life has changed in ways I never imagined because I just did it. A holiday is nice, going to France and Ireland and catching up with those I love will be wonderful, but I'm talking about what I have realised is my life's work and maybe why I am here in this lifetime. I had an inkling of it on my first visit, on the second, something in my soul rang like a bell and now I wonder what took me so long to realise this.

And when I realised where I wanted to be, the soul bird, for so long curled up tight, huddled inside me, turned its face east to welcome the warmth of the rising light, spread its wings and it smiled....

Posted by Basia at 11:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Apologies for those who think I am speaking in tongues here, but some of you will know exactly what I mean and who I am talking about. I heard something about someone yesterday that really, absolutely 100% confirmed what I already knew and what I didn't want to admit to. This person makes my heart fly like no other - and always has - and on more than one occasion my feelings were reciprocated. This person also makes me sad like no other, but I only have myself to blame for that.

Love is a stranger
In an open car
To tempt you in
And drive you far away

So now I find myself wondering about it all, because of what went down yesterday. Because now I can see clearly the parallel lines our lives really are (or should I say now I finally admit). This is the point I bow out gracefully and try not to hear a special message in every song on the radio. This is the moment where I act the adult I am supposed to be but inside I can still dream of all the flickering moments of pleasure, of all the maybes and what ifs - and what remains can still be the place where all my thoughts go hiding.

What happens next is anyone's guess but I know the outcome and this is how it will play out: I will say nothing, I will never say anything and I will continue to pretend that everything is the same as it ever was (after all, he is me as a boy) and whenever I see his face I will, as I have always done, think, "you're a song written by the hands of God".

Posted by Basia at 2:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

but you are the place, where all my thoughts go hiding

Some things you can't forget about, no matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you numb your brain with gin. Somehow I am going to try and make this piece as obscure as possible because you never know who might be reading and well it would be cool if all the suspects thought this was about them (and not because they are so vain) as opposed to the one saying ah buggering ha, I knew it! Does that sound vain? That I have more than one potential reading my nonsense? Yeah? Well yah boo sux, that's the way it is.

because of you, I forget the smart ways to lie
because of you, I'm running out of reasons to cry

I'm sitting writing this overlooking some south Sydney trees. I thought of you all the way here on the plane from Auckland. I thought of you this morning when I had my first cup of coffee. I think about you more than you think I do, and I can't say exactly what it is I think but sometimes it makes me cry a little - not because of anything you have done or haven't done, but because of what I haven't done and possibly will never do. Or say. To you.

But I can say it here because you don't know for sure that it's you I am talking about. I love you.

Posted by Basia at 6:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Except that's not true...

Posted by Basia at 3:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

If you want someone to over-analyse something, you know turn something really rather irrelevant into some kind of big-haired spangly cosmiverse drama, I'm your girl. To whit, my conversation today with the Taoist over a someone I care about. A lot. I mean, this one, soul mate stuff. In my head anyway. Or maybe it's just my pants. From now on, he will be known as Himself as to give away his name would cause all kinds of hoopla. Believe me.

Anyone who knows me will know that it is a rare moment that I am rendered speechless. A Kodak moment as some wag once said to me. So trying to explain to the Taoist the nature of Himself and our relationship rendered me tongue tied. And now dear reader, I must confess all these feelings are unrequited to a certain degree, yet he keeps me hanging on. He's contrary, he's secretive, he's weird, he's funny, he's clever, he's me as a boy. I will go to NZ and get over him. I will write to him: I AM OVER YOU. He will write, when were you under me? And I will fall all over again...

Me as a boy. Not the slightest bit vain, said the Taoist. And I recalled a six year old child once telling me I was vain. Out of the mouths of babies, said the Taoist, as the mouths of babes are something else.

Why can't they all be like you, Taoist?

Soul mates. I used to think we had only one for each of us. I used to think we chose our soul mates and they didn't have to be lovers either. I used to think a lot of things. Is it possible you can be soul mates with someone you don't really know? Can you explain how I just know when he is going to be around? How can you feel so much over so little? But then again, the quality far outweighs the quantity and therein lies the puzzle of Himself. You thought you'd escaped the analysis. Reader, so did I. Someone I once worked with said I was the most perverse girl he'd ever known. He can't have known many, I say sniffily. But still. Himself likes the perverseness. He is the most perverse man I've ever come across.

And just a little thought before I head south - baby, I so would.

Posted by Basia at 1:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)