3. i had such an interesting day yesterday...i have no words
a family funeral I did not attend. something going on with me that i dont have words for but this is the second such. but something to brag about ..it would be my cocopayol family that have a paranderos band side playing at the burial site in the cemetery a week before christmas. with the high hills of hinter maracas in the background. somethings surreal
4. more surreal to hear the innerworkings, depth and cellar of my uncle's life, behind the veneer of his lucrative business in decorating and construction, the reams of friends who were leeches, enemies, users, thieves and destroyers. the apparent financial ruin his business was at the end, to find out that it was sold off months if not a year ago and perhaps his fancy valsayn fete home that almost everyone has been to..and how that home was being used as a brothel of sorts for his big pappy friends in various businesses how past president max and his wife owes him over two hundred thousand dollars, and after two years max wife talking about fix this door, this toilet, and what not in order to pay. sandra my cousin, steve's daughter, just tell her after they ignored all the lawyer letters, "you have a nice life" and as she mentioned last night is a lot of times she done say that already and have it many more times to say besides...and then to hear of the deep fissure in their core family and the sound of expectant conflict over property, cars and houses and how his big time friend headley, who himself is suffering from alzheimers and prostate sold a property they had together and just gave steve back the money he put in not half the profits..and how almost none of his friends and pal walls who he fete and drink so hard with came to look for him this last year, and how his favorite pal of all whom i actually met, dr. nunes from barataria where steve's business was , was also his drinking buddy and doctor...and how neglectful he was over two years ago not to insist that steve get the mri results checked when the tumour was a small speck.....
i also heard how the business had zero structure and administration that when sandra was processing the close there were no files she had to box material by : 'rachel's desk' 'patrice's desk'...that the business was a free for all...secretaries bringing checks for steve to sign and he just signing not checking or reading, and giving employees his gold and platinum credit cards to go get out money from the machine because he did not know the machine and jerry say "see uncle: for him time and technology was moving faster than him and he did not keep up"....but if you saw my uncle and if you saw his house. it is just another dynamic of a dichotomy a paradox.. so dapper, so refined. but it seems like it was all a charade and so unnecessary. i think of the years i have been here and how i end up in this conversation is that i told my cousin gail organize some conversations about what will happen with uncle steve business because I will be willing to take it over and run with it. It was only two years ago I went to him to ask his help in getting some kitchen and bathroom tiles made for market and industry out of my paintings...he sent me to ceramics. last night they indicated that fell into the time when he was making bad decisions.. for the tumour had affected his brain. but i heard something else. I was listening to stories from long before, decades. I know that employees dont up and not have structures and processes in business..if there was none at the end it is because there were none at the beginning and middle....but most of all when I heard all these things nothing struck me so much as how it is my uncle steve who was so aloof and elusive to and within the family, with a successful business carl huggins will say he stole from him, cause that is what my father was doing in ny from since the 70s...allowed all this madness.
I had no words. i literally was listening with my head swiveling from side to side depending on who was talking with my mouth open. both me and another nephew were in a stupor. the other one worked with him for awhile.. but i share this with you to share in my observation of life, how what appears is never almost never real. how shocking things can turn out. how it seem every family is madness but this more than anything: i told them how freeing it was for me to hear of those travails.not that i am relishing in them.but because since i landed here i have thought and found trinidadians to be deceitful, hateful, treacherous among a whole bunch of other things. i was shocked to hear how consistently, thoroughly and wide ranging my uncle's experience with such. and he never left trinidad to live elsewhere so my thoughts of it is me because I am different, I dont know the culture, I am so opposite is bullshit. this place treacherous through and through and karma is a bitch that dont sleep and a witch practiced in plenty prayers and incantations and tief from tief making mas in this place. no one is left unscathed and as far as I can see is them the first ones to dead. or something so, or perhaps some who do dirty deeds arent as bad as they appear or really have good hearts and pure souls or have special protection..something like carl huggins so but i can tell you i see all his enemies come to nought, early. thoroughly fascinating this steve story
5. there is nothing for me to do and fix
and my stories are neither novel; nor my character unique
to be the judge of character is the only solution it appears
6. a graphic i just posted reminds me of my ongoing list of news thoughts and observations: married life..as wide and interesting as an ecological landscape in trinidad: endless permutations. and i am more concerned right now with the iconography of wives. some sisters are really sick.. deep into psychosomatism as a means to get what they want, need and not getting. some so fragile and insecure. others so grounded and secure. and i cant help but think the husbands have everything to do with that. see, the definition of a good man is one who keeps shit and shady so far away from his wife and so that she never even considers it is valid to suspect a thing. and i am often amused..if you think you have a man,... or you think you know where your man is...or if you think you know what your man would or would not do..i have a bridge to sell you. and i will sell it to you for free.
#idontwannabe
a family funeral I did not attend. something going on with me that i dont have words for but this is the second such. but something to brag about ..it would be my cocopayol family that have a paranderos band side playing at the burial site in the cemetery a week before christmas. with the high hills of hinter maracas in the background. somethings surreal
4. more surreal to hear the innerworkings, depth and cellar of my uncle's life, behind the veneer of his lucrative business in decorating and construction, the reams of friends who were leeches, enemies, users, thieves and destroyers. the apparent financial ruin his business was at the end, to find out that it was sold off months if not a year ago and perhaps his fancy valsayn fete home that almost everyone has been to..and how that home was being used as a brothel of sorts for his big pappy friends in various businesses how past president max and his wife owes him over two hundred thousand dollars, and after two years max wife talking about fix this door, this toilet, and what not in order to pay. sandra my cousin, steve's daughter, just tell her after they ignored all the lawyer letters, "you have a nice life" and as she mentioned last night is a lot of times she done say that already and have it many more times to say besides...and then to hear of the deep fissure in their core family and the sound of expectant conflict over property, cars and houses and how his big time friend headley, who himself is suffering from alzheimers and prostate sold a property they had together and just gave steve back the money he put in not half the profits..and how almost none of his friends and pal walls who he fete and drink so hard with came to look for him this last year, and how his favorite pal of all whom i actually met, dr. nunes from barataria where steve's business was , was also his drinking buddy and doctor...and how neglectful he was over two years ago not to insist that steve get the mri results checked when the tumour was a small speck.....
i also heard how the business had zero structure and administration that when sandra was processing the close there were no files she had to box material by : 'rachel's desk' 'patrice's desk'...that the business was a free for all...secretaries bringing checks for steve to sign and he just signing not checking or reading, and giving employees his gold and platinum credit cards to go get out money from the machine because he did not know the machine and jerry say "see uncle: for him time and technology was moving faster than him and he did not keep up"....but if you saw my uncle and if you saw his house. it is just another dynamic of a dichotomy a paradox.. so dapper, so refined. but it seems like it was all a charade and so unnecessary. i think of the years i have been here and how i end up in this conversation is that i told my cousin gail organize some conversations about what will happen with uncle steve business because I will be willing to take it over and run with it. It was only two years ago I went to him to ask his help in getting some kitchen and bathroom tiles made for market and industry out of my paintings...he sent me to ceramics. last night they indicated that fell into the time when he was making bad decisions.. for the tumour had affected his brain. but i heard something else. I was listening to stories from long before, decades. I know that employees dont up and not have structures and processes in business..if there was none at the end it is because there were none at the beginning and middle....but most of all when I heard all these things nothing struck me so much as how it is my uncle steve who was so aloof and elusive to and within the family, with a successful business carl huggins will say he stole from him, cause that is what my father was doing in ny from since the 70s...allowed all this madness.
I had no words. i literally was listening with my head swiveling from side to side depending on who was talking with my mouth open. both me and another nephew were in a stupor. the other one worked with him for awhile.. but i share this with you to share in my observation of life, how what appears is never almost never real. how shocking things can turn out. how it seem every family is madness but this more than anything: i told them how freeing it was for me to hear of those travails.not that i am relishing in them.but because since i landed here i have thought and found trinidadians to be deceitful, hateful, treacherous among a whole bunch of other things. i was shocked to hear how consistently, thoroughly and wide ranging my uncle's experience with such. and he never left trinidad to live elsewhere so my thoughts of it is me because I am different, I dont know the culture, I am so opposite is bullshit. this place treacherous through and through and karma is a bitch that dont sleep and a witch practiced in plenty prayers and incantations and tief from tief making mas in this place. no one is left unscathed and as far as I can see is them the first ones to dead. or something so, or perhaps some who do dirty deeds arent as bad as they appear or really have good hearts and pure souls or have special protection..something like carl huggins so but i can tell you i see all his enemies come to nought, early. thoroughly fascinating this steve story
5. there is nothing for me to do and fix
and my stories are neither novel; nor my character unique
to be the judge of character is the only solution it appears
6. a graphic i just posted reminds me of my ongoing list of news thoughts and observations: married life..as wide and interesting as an ecological landscape in trinidad: endless permutations. and i am more concerned right now with the iconography of wives. some sisters are really sick.. deep into psychosomatism as a means to get what they want, need and not getting. some so fragile and insecure. others so grounded and secure. and i cant help but think the husbands have everything to do with that. see, the definition of a good man is one who keeps shit and shady so far away from his wife and so that she never even considers it is valid to suspect a thing. and i am often amused..if you think you have a man,... or you think you know where your man is...or if you think you know what your man would or would not do..i have a bridge to sell you. and i will sell it to you for free.
#idontwannabe
No comments:
Post a Comment