Alcohol is Good

2/11/09
So, tonight I´m in a bar -¨Taco´s Bar¨- alone, having my third Pisco Sour, having walked around Valporaiso, in and out of various places, finding where people hang out here in this weird mirror of California. Found on FUN kareoke bar full of beautiful (at least beautifully put together) women. Who, of course, ignore me. Not that I´m looking. Although I suppose a quick glance would be nice.

I just want to be alone, if around people, only those who I don´t know. Anonymous. That´s what I want to be. Eases the pain. I can´t stand the sandpaper of any one that I know having any thoughts/expectations/pictures about how I should act. Not even a hint. All that consumes me is the thought that my mother is gravely ill and I`m here, not there.

Just talked to Rosalinde for half an hour. Rosalinde, Patricia, and Shaun are FANTASTIC! I can´t describe how wonderful it is to know that they´re there. It allows me to be here, knowing Mom´s take care of by three Fierce Warriors Who Shall Not Be Crossed. But still I´m in agony. I want to moan, cry out to the world that my Mother is Ill. It´s so monumental to me that the world has to know about it. Earthshaking. Vast and wide. The earth is moving. And I want to throw things, break things, destroy things because I feel destroyed inside.

FUCK FUCK FUCK!

And that doesn´t even begin to describe it.

Mish has been good and kind, serving me food and tea, letting me be alone to feel what I feel. And I feel soooo much. I can´t believe that no one else here shares my agony. The few I´ve told are sympathetic but no way can they really know my experience, what I feel. Where´s the Vulcan Mind Meld when you need it?

3rd Pisco Sour is getting me a bit messed up. Good. I care little, or at least less now. And now, perhaps, I´m ready to go home.

We'll see.

D