gestures use me

Shhh. I have a new secret lover while Thorny is in OZ. I am easy going with a willingness to share honest emotional moments. No commitment is a concrete-abstraction. My passion is immediate visual truth. My eyes are sensory awareness. I see voices. I am a voiceless one, quivering lips and tenacious touch with my secret lover.

I would rather be a tiger for one day than a sheep for a thousand years.

My sexual joy is shy. I dance tactile tenderness in silent breath.

My unfinished symphony lives with visual touch holding his small kiss on my spine. I do this because I love it. It is my heart-mind fate.

My tender lover comes to me in the heat of the day. He is kind. I welcome him with smiling eyes, gesturing a finger on lips, shhh.

He brings me luck. You can’t see it, measure it or hold it. I feel it.

My passion is deep and strong. My unlimited languages speak eyes, smiles, and hands. Gestures create us in space. Gestures use me.

My speech voice is missing. I make rolling guttural sounds expressing metaphors, similes, intonations, frequencies, meaning, sensation, time, space, ideas, dreams, relationships, secrets, my traditional family values, fear, passion, and joy.

By the time I learned the alphabet it was late in life toward primordial dusk. It was late in the moment before then and now. I am a long now.

It was late in the whisper of silent air singing from the trash collector’s plastic bottle. He pulls his rolling cart filled with cardboard. A muscular rhythm stirs somnolent dust on broken stones. The majority of people here exist on less than $1 a day. Rich land, poor people, greedy corrupt politicians.

I see, said a blind girl playing a cello in a demined cemetery. The more I see the less I know. You can’t step in the same river twice.

Possibilities and probabilities, chance and coincidence flutter from my finger fragments like butterflies. Unknown mysterious sensations fling from my signing hands. Fingers and hands are language extensions. Blossom being.

My lover visualizes me in tropical brown skin toned worlds. He imagines I join a hearing impaired community, get an education and a real life. He’s a dreamer.

I jump ahead in my story. It won’t happen. I am a slave.

He realizes my movements say I was born to dance.

 

sign language

He comes to me in the heat of the day. I welcome him with my dark eyes gesturing a fingertip on lips...quiet. We share the present. My passion is deep and strong. My language - a smile, brown eyes, calloused hands, worn fingers and rolling sounds whisper: 

time

relationships

secrets

fear

family

passion

laughter

sadness

a heart

I dream traditional ignorant silence kills everyone, the others. Truth is a powerful weapon. People are afraid of truth. When I express truth I don’t have to remember what I said. I say what others are afraid to say.

I am an anarchist, a linguistic magician.

Speaking, living and realizing truth with beauty entails risk. If you want to do amazing things you must take amazing risks. Daring is not fatal. I am truth incarnate. I am an objective mirror, free of dust.

Everything here is a secret. Shhh. Fingers on my lips. I am secretly engaged to a false dream of going to Australia with Thorny. He is 50, married with family. He works for an NGO here. He builds fake bamboo homes. He plays my father figure and unconscious rescuer. Fat chance.

I come from a poor rural village. I was the last of eleven children. I am 28. I came here with my sister, 32. She got pregnant by a married New Zealand man. She had a daughter named Moaning Lisa. She pretends to be married. It’s all show here. He sends her a monthly handout, pays the electricity. 

When I dance I am alive.

5000

One day she rode her beautiful dirty black Warrior mountain bike to old student street for dumpling lunch. Delicious.

She prefers old student street to boring new commercial student campus street. She enjoys mature green leafy trees filled with small wild sparrows darting down to feed in garden patches. She savors a wide blue sky and orphaned clouds. She swallows sky removed from blaring omnipresent bland Chinese TV soap operas and cell phone addicted youth.

“Text me baby! Reveal your passion in 5,000 characters. Say things with electronic letters and symbols you’d never find the courage to speak out loud. Your silence is deafening.

"Hold my hand. Better yet, my baby, when we walk covered in our innocent adolescent shyness, slowly rub your elbow against my skin so I know you care, reveal your shy desire with deference and longing. Our skin pours hormonal activity into the possibility we may eventually dance naked. Text me baby!”

A boy approached the table. “May I sit here?” 

“Sure.” 

“May I talk with you?” 

“Sure. You talk I listen.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

State secrets - fools

Greetings,

The fat happy alien American tourist is on his cell. Across the street is a river. The town is dead because Bangkok is a no-go zone. The red light district is red. What is red for you?

Thailand has been declared a disaster zone by various countries. They've issued travel advisories. 

"DO NOT travel to Thailand." If any travelers come in now it's from Nam, by boat or bus. Swimmers are more rare than very expensive electricity. The river of tourists has dried up. 

Mr. Shallow is talking. He shares state secrets.
"I can tell you a lot about my life." He lacks hard travel experience.
He's already called all his friends to talk about dental care in Asia. This is his BIG issue.
"I don't want to be walking around Bangkok full of pain killers."

Bangkok is filled with pain killers.
He needs an extraction. The more you drill the more you bill. Down the road.

"I have high blood pressure."
"I'm waiting for the place down the road to open up. They have amazing pork ribs."

He is suffering personified.

Meanwhile, if you are in China you are not reading this. My site is blocked in China. I used a proxy in the heart of Texas. It was blocked when I lived there teaching English to lazy students. They wanted to pass, not learn. 

China is wonderful. Especially the government. They recently announced new measures to control freedom of speech. They have notified all telecom and internet service providers to give them data on users.

It's about government control over private communication. They are tightening the screws, fools.

Their BIG FEAR is losing control. The broad propaganda words are State Secret.

In a related move, the Chinese government on Monday posted on a government Web site a broad definition of what constituted a commercial secret, covering information related to strategic plans, management, mergers, equity trades, stock market listings, reserves, production, procurement and sales strategy, financing and finances, negotiations, joint venture investments and technology transfers. more...

The majority of Chinese use their cell phones to access the internet. It's cheaper than a desktop. They use the internet to: 

• listen to music
• play games
• chat

 "This is perfect," said a Chinese gremlin in Beijing. "The immature masses are like sheep."

"More like perpetually spoiled children," said another gremlin. "This is what happens after 30 years of a one child only policy. This planned genocide will come back and haunt us."

He's one of 50,000 internet Police spending their day surfing, looking for words or phrases like June 4, Tibet, freedom, democracy, Uighar, slavery, reform, literature, human rights, gulag, corruption, nepotism, bribery, unrest, strife, demonstrations, education, scandal, liberty, equality...and so on.

Metta.