Wednesday, November 9, 2011

As Missy waited impatiently for the drawn out ORDEAL to be over already....

she tried, ever so desperately,
to steer her mind away from this current melodrama...
She'd never been one for SITTING STILL for too long....

She thought of sandy beaches and tanning oil and the aroma of bananas and rum...
and of creamy, satin sheets with flowers and chocolates strewn all around them,
whilst the mosquito nets blew in the ocean breeze , directly above the bed......
She thought of the wild goats running through the crystaline, blue water in Anguila...
and of those rainy, CRAZY nights in London ....
Ahhhh....
She thought of Israel....
of Haifa in particular....
of the hot, sultry evenings she'd spent walking the sidewalks with her first LOVE....
smoking TIME cigarettes....
drinking Maccabees straight out of the bottle...
She thought of dear, old HILARY....
and of the EXTREME AMOUNTS OF 'dogma and rhetoric'
one must mandatorily SWALLOW in public life......

And then....
she was STARTLED right out of her nostalgic haze...
as the colorist proclaimed,
"All done !!!  You look FABULOUS !!"
and so it went...

IS IT ALL RELATIVE ?

What makes a traumatic situation real and not somehow sensationalized or exaggerated ? What constitutes real trauma ? Is it all relative ? I...