Stars Without Rockets

MIrlande Jean-Gilles'

"How some folks get to the stars without a rocket"

Collage 2016

{the odd thing, that setting looks like the top of my mountain top home, so apropos}

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i turn on the computer and it was 11:24 on 11/14
 this is now the second time I am writing this post.
the other one got lost in a wrong button press on fb
i hate when that happens. of all the changes they want to make, they need to fix the no save, no have button when you mistakenly cut or delete. the return button should take you back to all of it  intact. just like blogger

there is a :money building: so named in montrose

and i think how trump has created wonderful opportunities for writers around the globe \

[http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/11/21/aftermath-sixteen-writers-on-trumps-america]

i wake up thinking of a reality/adventure/spiritual journeys/transformation and personal development/travel tv show where I talk about life, explore trinidad, or at least take viewers back to my travels and movements in trinidad since I returned, that is all really a backdrop for my personal struggles, my individual life mystery, cosmic challenge to undo the stuck at fuck that I am and have been.

i think to call the show "it was"
for when i wrote it above, it struck me as a new opening line to a story, and a new novel form of conveying a story than the old fairytale mode of "once upon a time" and surely, this is no fairytale, or perhaps, it is in fact, and about to be, because of this public display of bringing and telling my story to the exact people I have been complaining about for the last thriteen years. So i bring them in and let them help me decipher what has happened. solve the problem. and maybe even doing so, shows the nation the pattern of problem solving and after we fix me, then we can maintain the show to fix other problems in the country...it would be a great exercise beyond me. and a phenomenal one. It is like saying, I have complained about you for all these years, and the experience I am having in your space, now is the time for me to turn the tables around and bring you into my space, my head space, bring my problems to you, let me allow you to screen and scan and analyze me/ to see what solutions you come up with.

then i think to call the show {it was guava season}
precisely because it has been guava season in my life for a long time. long before all the employment retrenchment currently going on. and i want people to see and develop a context for their experiences.
if it not to grand to understand how we can be indifferent and silent in the midst of other's persona; struggles because their story is not mine, but sure as night follows day, my day is coming, as is how yours is now here. welcome to sucking salt.

then the word regeneration kept occurring to me during sleep. i so need a regeneration . of my mind, my thinking, my behavior, its form, its lack of generation of income and productivity beyond personal satisfaction. money is necessary. and i was looking for another re-word. but the only thing that came up was repatriate. and when i think about it, this is all about just that. It is not about repatriating to a country anymore. that was the door, and the initial. but it is really about me repatriating everything personal: back to function, back to money making, back to what never was, even, like family, community, being socially functional. not living in a cocoon..not being secluded and an introvert. steve told me this week that I need to get out of the cocoon. this is nothing but an attempt to blast that to smithereen.

and since we are all learning the power of social media this rounds, I think i am taking it up as the power of my salvation

"Repatriate Regeneration and Salvation"

then after the work of myself, for public integration in my life can and is intended to be a means of counseling for me, and after I have resolved some issues, my own provisions, mainly, the show can carry on into national problem solving

I think beyond the road trips to show where i have been and the things I used to do, and where I used to be over the years, would be a need for a studio, and i would want that studio to be in my home. in the mountains, full of lush greenery

anyway, this writing is far more formal than the muse originally wrote
and i thought it disappeared as to protect it from evil eyes
but somehow i persist in the thinking that my life and pursuits will neither change nor manifest if i keep it all internal and private

you know the one thing that occurred to me last night about regeneration was the need for healing, and even as I write this i see my brain wanting to constantly have me write what i have already written, and it seems I am losing memory. i no longer effortlessly remember the time i went to bed. so it is like my life and body is telling me I need to capture something before it totally unravels and my life is probably erasing my future in minute increments.  time to regenerate. everything. even brain cells/ lungs if possible. i think to drink hot sea/. hot tea. and even one of my props in the show will be a fancy tea cup. or several. no matter where. I could be talking in the sea. say something and up comes a delicate tea cup i sip.

the dream i had two nights ago, about men bringing gifts, healing, opening doors, being part of community, good omens, my cousin kurtis showing up this weekend, are what are spurring these thoughts. being told that my bosoms are the source of all things bountiful for me. how i have no idea....but willing to make a reach for it.