Right now I am sitting in the front seat of my car. The windows are open and the battery is on. The only light comes from the console and from the computer screen. The crickets are loud enough to compete with the sound of Nick Cave's From Her to Eternity on the stereo. My back is against the driver's side door and my feet are resting in the passenger seat. This is a surprisingly comfortable setup.
In the past few days I have found that I am in desperate need of solitude and sanctuary to write. I have inaccurately come to call this place of solitary sanctuary my Bael na Blath. It's mostly because I like the words. Mouth of flowers. There are worse names for an idea. Ironically, I've come to think of a person as my Bael na Blath. Maybe more than anything, the idea is that Bael na Blath is a place where I can be safe. Ironic, as Michael Collins was killed there. I need to think of a better name for this concept.
Since the weather has turned cooler I've found that I enjoy being outside - especially to write. Hence my current hiding place. The outdoor at large have felt like a great place to go to feel alone. People don't much like being outside, and I've not been feeling much like being around people it's been a great solution.
Yet in this longing to be alone, I find myself wishing to being people into my solitude. Not just anyone though. Persons who would not put upon me. Persons who let me be. I imagine we would have quiet moments and I could feel truly free. That would never happen though. I suffer from pressure of speech.
Maybe it's freedom I want most. I want to be able to go to St. Simon's at a whim and not have to worry about coming back at a certain time or being asked a million questions about my trip. I've come to despise being questioned about my actions. If I wanted to share my comings and goings I would.
I want a friend that I can meet at Waffle House for all night conversations about nothing. God, I miss that. Mojo Jojo was the king of that sort of thing. And if we didn't have any money, we would raid his dad's fridge and lay on the bed watching movies all night. Just being together was stimulating. I am under stimulated. I am bored.
And I am a mother. I am a wife. I cannot have friends like that anymore. I cannot have new experiences with new people along those lines anymore. I have responsibilities and there's propriety to consider. Maybe if Mojo Jojo were in the same town. Maybe.
But he's not. I am alone among people. I seek true solitude where I can at least daydream about not being alone anymore. I would be a person instead of an accessory. I would be valued. I would not be sitting in my car in the middle of the night writing cagey prose about idle fantasies that will never be. I would be living - something I feel like I have not done in a really long time.
I want to go to my Bael na Blath, wherever that is.
You may ask yourself, what is that beautiful house?
You may ask yourself, where does that highway lead to?
You may ask yourself, am I right, am I wrong?
You may say to yourself, my god, what have I done?
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