Saturday, October 31, 2009

Kilimanjaro and the bloody mess that followed....

Halloween you say?
Well, then I guess it's time to write a gory scary story, innit?

I COULD of course opt for one about phantoms, zombies or other ghouls...
But what about scary stories that actually happened in real life?

Here's one that happened when I was 7 years old....

Whilst on holidays in the south of Spain, my parents, aunt, uncle, cousin and me visited a small picturesque village. You know the ones: white washed houses, pink flowers everywhere, streets covered in irregular cobble stones. It was guidebook pretty.
Not another tourist in site. Just us, the old geezers sitting in the shade of little orange trees in the village square, and the occasional old lady dressed in black, hanging wet clothes on wash lines that ran from one side of the narrow streets to the other.
It was a peaceful, sunny day.
The kind that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
And warm and fuzzy I was, and so was my cousin, cuz we were promised ice-cream AND a Coke, if we behaved. Which we naturally did (we refrained from hitting each other and fighting for the time being, the reward was TOO tempting).

So, there we were...strolling through the winding streets.
Parents taking the occasional photograph.
My cousin and I pointing out flowers, old ladies and statuettes in windows to each other.

But then....
I had to pee.

Unfortunately, this village was so quaint and small, that it didn't have a bar.
We looked around, but there really was no way we could find a public restroom.
So, since I was about to pop, I *went* behind a dumpster in a small alleyway.
It was a great relief, let me tell you...when you're 7 having to wee can be a total crisis, so when relief comes it's almost like you managed to climb the Kilimanjaro on flip flops and Mars bars.
So great was my relief, that when I saw a cat I was overjoyed.

"Oh look, A CAT!!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs, followed by a ferocious howl of pain.
My mother came running.

"What's wrong??"

I looked down at my feet.
A pool of blood was forming on the cobblestones.
I had stepped into a broken bottle with my thin summer shoes, and it had cut right through into my left foot.

"Oh GOD!!"

My mother grabbed me, pulled me up and ran out of the alley with me in her arms.
My smiling relatives, turned around and smiles faded as they saw what was going on.
There, in the summer sun they sat me down and peeled the shoe off my foot: a large gush was visible, I was bleeding heavily.
I looked at my foot between the tears and at the blood that had dribbled all the way from the alley to where my foot was.
My mother's hand, holding my foot, was covered in blood, it dripped from her wrist to the floor, forming a puddle.

"We need a doctor!"
"Put something around the wound to stop the bleeding first!"

My aunt took a cloth hankie from her purse and they wound it tightly around my foot.
Then my dad lifted me off the ground and the whole group ran towards the village centre.
There my mother asked the old men sitting under the orange trees, if there was a doctor somewhere in the village.

There wasn't.

We then rushed to the place where our car was parked.
In those days, nobody wore a seat belt in the back, and we often travelled with loads of people on the back seat, kids on laps, you know the drill.
This time had been no different.
So we crammed into the back, me sitting on my mother's lap, and drove off.
We had to drive to the next city to find a doctor, the old men had said.

We drove faster than I've ever driven since, my uncle beeping the car horn fanatically as we went. And then....there was a traffic-jam.
The cars moved sloww, very very sloww...
I was feeling really light headed.
My foot was thumping like there was a full-blown African drum band inside.
It felt wet.
And I knew that was blood, but I didn't want to look at it anymore.
The atmosphere in the car was tense.
My cousin was crying too, my mother was cussing cuz of the traffic-jam and telling my uncle to drive around it somehow. My uncle was yelling back, over the horn beeping, my aunt was holding a white hankie out of her window to show people we had an emergency, and my dad was trying to calm everybody down.

After what seemed to be hours, we finally managed to get off that road I guess, because the next thing I remember is us rushing into an emergency room.
Doors flew open and people were talking hurriedly.
The pungent smell of bleach filled the green hallways.

And then I was laid down on some sort of table, covered in white paper.

Before I knew it I was pinned down onto the table by two nurses.
One was holding my legs, while the other one pushed down on my shoulders.
My mother kneeled beside me and said:

"Don't worry honey, it will soon be over"

Soon? Over? What would soon be over?
And then I saw the doctor....he moved towards me while he put some string on a huge needle.

The moment the needle went through my skin was much more painful then when I stepped into the glass. I screamed loudly and tried to wiggle free.
The nurses pushed on me but I was too wild for them to control me, so my mother and father had to help them hold me down.
While I screamed my lungs out till I hardly had a voice left.

The doctor then proceeded to stitch me up.
He didn't use anaesthetic.
Every time the needle went in, every tug on the thread surged through my body, and made my sore throat howl out a screechy scream of pain.
My tears had dried up; there were no more tears left to cry.

Weeks later, back home, when my doctor wanted to take the stitches out with a small surgical knife, I kicked him in the face. Hard.
NO WAY he was going to stick something sharp in me too!
We had to come back a 2nd time, so he could do it with scissors instead.

So much for ghouls and zombies, eh?

Happy Halloween everybody!

Thursday, October 22, 2009


What is life?
It is the flash of a firefly in the night.
It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.
It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."

-Crowfoot (Sahpo Muxika)-

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Lost your dog?

"Hey pssst, psssst tssk tut tut tut"

Oftentimes when I pass a man on the street, and even more often when I pass a pack of men, such sounds get hurled to me with hushed voices or, if they're in a pack, loudly for all to hear.

Interestingly enough they don't expect any reaction from the female they make funny noises to.
I mean; they'd prefer a smile, but an angry "leave me alone you perving asshole" face, seems to be preferred as it evokes even more commentary, and when travelling in packs that is the way to go.

So, my question is:


Some of the sounds emitted are of the kind people generally make towards their pets.
A lot of whistling and smacking noises seem to be all the rage.

Once I turned around, faced a pack of dudes who had just made dog hailing type sounds and said; "Did you loose your dog?"
They were shocked, looked at me in utter confusion and seemed to be frozen to the spot.
So much for taking action.

The German who whispered French sweet nothings in my ear on the packed dance floor of a Finnish disco and thought I wouldn't understand him, probably still stands there with confused glare, after I told him off in French and said he was boring me. "Dude, I'm sorry but you're SO lamo *yawn*"

Do they REALLY think it's attractive?
Do they expect us to hurl ourselves into their arms swooning and smiling?
Do they think we'll say "oh come home with me tiger and show me all corners of my bedroom"
Is it EVER successful?
Don't get me wrong; I love guys, you rock my world.
But WHY this shite?

Yeah, if your sweetie says those things to you, in a making out session, or whilst doing the dishes, sparks ignite. And wild action may follow. But that's the lover, the one you WANT to hear sweet nothings from.
The stranger on the street...not so much...

I guess it's better than the man who crossed me in the street a few years back, and just made a grab at my lower regions in passing, and no, not my ass...
He laughed loudly and walked away after I successfully blocked his had with mine.
I turned around tho, ran after him and gave him the hardest shin kick he has probably ever felt.
He screamed of pain as he grabbed his painful leg, which I used to give him a kick on the ass.
He fell to the ground in a pile of dogshit, as I walked away...

I guess he found his lost dog after all...

If I could...

If I could...

I'd lick 
the world's face
and tell
it that
everything will be

Sending out
a beam of 
to engulf
every nook and
With warmth

If I could...

I'd inundate
the world
in a warm
Shake its core
Make it
its limitless

If I could....

Thursday, October 8, 2009


(photo by me)

Fall has fallen
with it
come clouds
in every

Dark and menacing
and tender

Clouds hold
the sun
it's safe
for it to

In the winter sky

i have found what you are like

i have found what you are like
the rain,

(Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
with thinned

newfragile yellows


-in the woods


And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
your kiss

- e.e. cummings -

You, Darkness

You, darkness, that I come from
I love you more than all the fires
that fence in the world, 
for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone
and then no one outside learns of you. 

But the darkness pulls in everything-
shapes and fires, animals and myself, 
how easily it gathers them! -
powers and people-

and it is possible a great presence is moving near me. 

I have faith in nights.

-By Rainer Maria Rilke -