Coral Hull: Prose: Notes From The Big Park: August 20th, 1997, Intimacy Was My Big Step Into Pain

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: NOTES FROM THE BIG PARK
AUGUST 20TH, 1997, INTIMACY WAS MY BIG STEP INTO PAIN

Being a dog, means that you will always be abandoned, because dogs are in love with everything and expect the world, to be in love with them, before I fell in love, I had never known such a life being only unloved, I had never known anything but my own isolation, my partial existence in a world that moved by like slides upon a slide screen, now that I have been intimate for the first time it has opened the great floodway to pain and pain has poured in, love came pouring in until at first I was gulping it down like a jug of icy water and then I was being drenched in it like a waterfall, until I was struggling for the all I had and all I ever wanted list, being in love was one of the best things that ever happened to me, when I was eighteen I spent my time looking for aliens that I was to meet, who gave me signs via car number pates and street signs, well falling in love was like finally meeting one of them, we fitted together perfectly and flew around in a spaceship above the heads and lives of all the others, it was the spaceship of the womb, being in love with him was like having a mother and a father love me at the same time, there was little knowledge required beyond this sensation, it was the point of separation that caused the problem, after having found that I was not alone in the universe afterall, I didn't want to find that I was again alone, I dream that I meet him in a picture cinema when he is very old and I am still young, and that all our lives we could have been together but weren't, and now he is old and on the point of death and so am I, but I still feel young, but if I am young that means I will have to spend the rest of my life on earth without him, without love I may as well be dead, now that I know what it means to love and be loved, I know what I have missed out on, what others have had and what I have not, it was like in school where all the other kids got brand new pencils and texta colours every time they ran out, but my best friend Diane and I would have to wait for Christmas, no matter if we went without for half the year and had to squabble and fight with the other poorer kids, over the worn down government supplied pencils, red, yellow, green, brown and blue, the colours were stark and limited requiring strength and imagination, where the leads kept breaking and you wore your fingers red raw from sharpening them with serated knives, trying to colour in neatly with them, we dripped the water into our packs of twelve textas from Woolworths beneath ther school taps, until the water edged rainbows emptied out onto the soggy pages of the exercise books and faded into nothing, whilst the rich kids had seventy-two different colours of pencil to shade with, and seventy-two textas to outline with, 'cause life's not fair and they got the best marks, not 'cause they were any brighter or more creative but because they were rich, at least our parents and the teachers behaving like this was preparing us for life outside school, yet it was like shutting the doors on a poor beggar that, if only they had placed a coin in his tin he would have become an angel for them, these teachers never saw angels and we weren't allowed to be angels, because we were from disadvantaged backgrounds, and coming from a beaten down place love walks unsurely on its shaky legs, I had to leave him eventually, because through connecting with him I tapped into my own insanity, we connected on other levels and on this one, he bashed me into the ground to create pulp from woman, so I left him, I wished that I had never loved, but now that I know what it is like to be in love, the world that was unfocused has come into focus and how acute and painfully sharp those leaves are, as if their tips and their shapes and the shades of green cut into my senses, I inhabit a complex world where trees are being steadily born into details beyond my control, this is what love has done, I am thankful, intimacy has been my one great leap, how fucked up I was, I couldn't even live a simple life, in some ways it would have been easier to remain completely mad, rather than to suddenly become sane and realise that the first thirty years of your life has slipped past, and the great loss and grief and pain, if only I had known, in a way it's more frightening to see clearly, delusions are very strong things to hang onto, when you are mad you don't realise your are swimming in a quagmire, it is the freshest water you have tasted, it's so fresh, that sewerage in your mouth between your teeth tastes like clover, now just heading out of that state you inhale, 'my god, what is this shit? where have I come from and where have I been?,' that in-between state where the thing that you thought was love and sanity is madness and death, this place where you stand in the doorway looking over a garden, but you can't see anything, its all misty and blurry with rain, I have rejected those who were trying to kill me for two years now and my own madness, but nothing has replaced it, it is the time inbetween foundations, I may as well be out in space circling the planets, I do not know whether the garden exists or whether there will be anyone to love me, I think I may know what love is, but I do not know whether it will be returned or whether I will allow it to reach in and touch me, I know what a garden is but I do not know whether it will bloom for me, faith is lying at the doorstep in a ribboned basket waiting for adoption, at the moment the garden is partially formed and filled in with fantasy, my best friend stepped into it and became deluded, he said, 'do they know that we were lovers?,' I said, 'if you believed that it happened, then it happened, you may have had many lovers in five minutes, if at least one of them was a green hexagon.'

    

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