Saturday, July 20, 2013

CAUTION Tape and Burn Scars*


Don't Fuck With Fire Unless You Like the Burn Scars


I was about 15 when mom realized that she could be herself with me. We became partners in a two-person acting troupe instead of rivals from different companies. She was never angry with me, and in fact seemed incredibly proud (albeit tired from silently worrying no doubt), when she told me what I was. She said I was wild and crazy and smart and loved to love. Loved too much and that people would not love me back the same. I was "too hot", too quick, too bright, too nice, too mean. I was a flickering flameShe was worried I was going to get put out. Extinguished. 
Then she found out what feeding a tiny flame a steady supply of oxygen and dry wood does. Then she truly knew me. Then she was truly proud. Then is when she realized that:


Is This Slutty? photo scandalous_zps9d8d7cac.jpg I like to play with fire
I like the heat.
 I like the dancing flames.
 I like the burns. I like the scars
I like it when the fire rages out of control, unbearably hot, the flames dance in a terrible show, engulfing the tiny flickering flame from before, the tiny flame becoming part of the roiling sea of angry flames.. 
I love to play with fire.
I kind of like to get burned.
In fact, I think I crave it sometimes.
I get bigger, I get stronger, I get quicker, I get smarter.
My mom knew back then, when she saw the living recoil at the terrible sight:
their wooden houses and paper lives burning suddenly...smoking...
the living ran to seek shelter, 
to hide behind the smoke screens
and they usually cry as the fire engulfs everything they once thought they knew, 
That's when she saw me there, dancing and laughing on piles of ash.
 She had an idea about me when she saw me burning once or twice before...
She knew I was hers when she would see me laughing privately at the burns,
 and then proudly showing off the scars.
She knew that when it all went up in a dazzling flash of blinding light,
 I would be the one beside her with my jokes and ballerina slippers.
The two of us stood with whisps of smoke swirling in the wind, silently laughing at the beauty, sorrow and absurdity of the whole thing. And I was there. 
I was burned. I have scars. 



According to my mom:
I am Fire, red, Charmander, a spark, a bright hot light, an ember in the ashes, but mostly she told me that her youngest daughter is dangerous. Crazy. Too bright. Too hot. Too big to contain. Too focused. Too careless. Too red. Too blue. Too much like her with too much education, too much freedom, and too much power carelessly handed to her through responsibilities. She told me that she felt bad for those who will hate me, those who will love me too much, and most of all she felt terrible (she apologized in advance) to anyone that tries to stop me.  
She said I was like a firestorm. Watch from a safe distance!

Her eyes gleamed mischievously as she picked strands of my hair at random to curl in her fingers and twist and scrunch. I giggled and wriggled around on her bed. She told me to stop messing up her OCD hair-twisting if I wanted her to keep doing it so I laid still. Her show was back on and I knew to wait patiently until the commercials before we could continue. I braided a different strand of my hair happily, smiling because this quiet time in the day when the sun was too bright and her room was dark and cool. This was the time of the day that we set aside years ago to sit around and shamelessly pat ourselves on the back and just praise each other and share pictures and gush about babies if neither of us had done anything fucking fantastic too recently. The commercials came back. She sighed. She she wished she got more time to spend with me before she had to go. I told her in short shallow breaths not to worry about me, that I would figure it out, that somehow I would make myself be okay. She said she knew that, she never worried about me, and then she repeated that wished she was given more time with me- more time to watch her favorite show. Me. More time to watch my life. More time to scrunch my hair while I showed her pictures of this country or that plane or this actor or that politician or this scientist and always some pictures of my cats doing funny things. 
She told me I was the one, her ticket out, her reward for her hard work. 
I said I...had to pee. She knew I couldn't contain my tears any more. She let me cry in the bathroom.She let me come out with a smile. After she fell asleep I saw myself in the mirror and there was mascara down my face. My mom...was the best thing that has ever happened to my career. It was all for me. It was also all for her future. I still feel bad for telling her when I was 3 that I would put her in a nursing home one day. I haven't made good on my promise!

 "I'm so close mom you'll see. Really. I think you'll be here I need like a year seriously. Less. I am taking you there. I am."
Then she said no. She told me no. She never told me no. I am never told no. What does the word no mean? What? What do you mean NO?!? WHAT THE FUCK WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO GO WITH ME?!? 
Honey, I can't go with you. You know I have to go. You know I won't be here next year. I'm sorry I can't hang on to go with you. I hate that I'm failing you I just can't keep hanging on
You haven't failed at anything!!!
I couldn't even help you plan your wedding! And I can't go with you like I promised!
 I never asked you to help me plan my wedding! I didn't ask you to! Just ah-
You never had to ask me for help.
...Then we cried. For the first time together. Then I had a wedding a few days later. Then I had a trip. Then I had...a funeral to arrange.

I was so close. I was. I swear. Hang on. Almost there!
 So close. Please don't leave. Not yet. Hang on. I'm there!!! 
 Let's go! Hello? 
I'm here. Let's leave! 
Hello?
 Oh no
Hear me?
No. No?
 Not possible. Please come. No. No. No. No. No. NO!
 Too late.
 First tardy! 
So Sorry. Too late. 
You're too late. Go home.
Now what? Now what? Now what? 
Which way is home?
Who is home now?
What is home?
No.
Now what? Now what? Now what?
What? No? Sleep.?
No.
Now what now what now what now what there is no plan
was there ever a plan?
there is no plan
was there?
was...?

Keep breathing. 
Keep living. Keep thinking. Keep remembering. 
Keep remembering. Keep remembering. Keep breathing. Breath better. Live better. Think better. Remember everything. Remember fire. Remember rain. Remember faces. Remember voices. Remember scents.
Just remember.
....
Remember pain? No. 
Remember joy? That hurts.
Remember fire? Fuck yes!
Remember burns.That's better.
Remember scars? Oh yes.
Look at that candle. 
Look at the flame. 
Look how the flame dances!
 Time to leave, put it out !
No. 
I want to let it burn. 
Let it burn then!

Remember now? I guess I never really forgot. 
What happened? I was letting everyone add their fuel. Free fuel!
It's ready. Move back now. 
Move back! Caution!! 
This is not a controlled burn! 
Please back away. Flames will consume you until you are either part of the fire or a pile of ashes. 
Can't they see the flames?!? Why are people such idiots?!? 
MOVE BACK IDIOTS!!!
You know what? Let them burn. 
You warned them. There's even caution tape.
Mom warned you this would happen. 
COME BURN! 

Oh. Does that hurt? Yeah? Oh, you're mad at me for letting you get burned? Who else is mad at me because they burned themselves? 
Poor babies. Pobrecitos. I'm just so sad that you didn't listen to me. 

I thought I told you guys to move the fuck back, five minutes ago. 




We gonna let it burn burn burn burn. Burn burn burn burn, We can light it up up up. So they can't put it out out out. We can light it up up up. So they can't put it out out out .When the lights turned down, they don't know what they heard Strike the match, play it loud, giving love to the world We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky Cause we got the fire, fire, fire, yeah we got the fire fire fire 
Ellie Goulding has a very fitting, beautiful, new song! "Burn" is perfect for July in AZ!
Carry on!


*Made a few edits at 9:24pm 07-21-13. I really need to go get contacts...and take a course in technology for dummies.


No comments:

Post a Comment

I love reading your thoughts!