Multiple Girls

I never wanted to be a multiple girl. It wasn’t part of Career Day at school.

How to hear voices in your head!
Learn disturbing memories!
Make money while you try new things!

No, that wasn’t what I wanted. It’s been nearly three years now and still I have no idea what I am, where I am and what I should do. Do other multiple girls feel this way? I don’t talk to any of them: not because I don’t want to be friends, but because I’m not really all that angry. I understand the anger and fear they have – they have the memories and I don’t – but still, I’d like to talk to them, the other multiple girls.

I never wanted to be a multiple girl, but now that I am, what should I do? Why do I feel so lost and sad? Why don’t I want to write? Why do I care so much for other people’s opinions? Questions, questions, that’s all I ever seem to have. I raise my hand and am ignored. Better than being singled out, the others learned that the hard way, but me, I’m too sassy to think that anyone would ever hurt me. Stupid I suppose, but ignorance is bliss.

School exists as a black hole of fear and loathing for the others, but there was only one who got us all through safely. He doesn’t mind staying quiet, the face wants out of this life, but there is no one to replace him. I can’t, not as a multiple girl and not as anything that would be safe. Sure, dancing on tables and drinking until dawn sounds like fun, but we’ve never been risk takers. I think the fact is that none of us trusts each others’ motivations and desires. It would pull us apart without him, but he can’t relax even for an instant, not because we/I would run amuck but because… I want to live, but not as a multiple girl and the others just want to blow up the world.

I never wanted to be a multiple girl, did you?

Rose

xo

Resurrected

Sort of.

He started therapy several weeks ago along with medication. Today was the second therapy session and it went heavily emotional right from the start. So much so that by halfway through he had had enough and begged me to take over.

I did: and I enjoyed it. Oh how I have missed the fresh air and joy of seeing the world. Not that it’s anybody’s fault but my own, I do take responsibility for my actions and that’s why I’ve been so quiet. This therapy wasn’t supposed to be about us, the others, but instead it’s been all multiples all the time. Surprising really. I have a feeling – a wild hunch – that I’ll be around a lot as this plays out since the boys are radiating so much fear. We are all together after all and I’m tired of skulking in dark places… except with a lover, that sounds like fun. 😉

Rose

xo

P.S. Congrats to Drizel on being pregnant. Woo Hoo!!!!!!

‘Farewell to Love’

“Knickers Abroad; a multiple journey”

by

Rose D. Kaye

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For a complete list of chapters in numerical order please go to this page.

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Chapter Eighteen

‘Farewell to Love’

We took the Northern line back to Bank where we transferred to the Central line for our last ride home. We hugged Drizel, misty eyed, but realistic, and wished her well. Waving goodbye we faced forward as you must when parting from loved ones.

To every greeting there is a farewell. Time is an arrow shooting holes in the fabric that swathes true friends. No matter how frantically we sew the rents in the cloak of love, time is constantly unraveling our life’s thread.

So stop. Stop trying.

Stop trying to rethread the loom. Life will happen to you no matter how much you try to avoid living.

So stop. Stop dying.

Stop dying every day and instead live every second with passion and awe towards the incredible power of love.

“Quantum Ghosts”

pale traces left behind
thoughts, looks, touches
layered sediment of existence
to slice through a core
life
countless others before
their hopes crumble
dreams melt exposed
foam churns echoes
yet another coat
painting the quantum ghosts

© Rose Dewy Knickers

“Ann, to every meeting there is a parting, and after ten days, your guests were preparing to leave. First of all, had this holiday met with your expectations or was it something more?”

“You know, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I always say if you expect nothing then you won’t be disappointed, which is quite a tough philosophy to live by because life is full of let downs, but this wasn’t one of them. Dewy, I would never have invited them if I didn’t believe there was already a connection; our meeting was something that was bound to happen, something that was meant to be. We must have spoken on the telephone at least once a week, or even more, during the previous year. For me, it was like meeting old friends… well I’m old, not them, they’re young.”

“I know from Rose’s perspective, you have a very young heart. She really enjoyed how much zest and pep you have. I know this holiday was beyond anything we could have dreamed. I am sure you concur Ann.”

“Dewy, their holiday surpassed my dreams. My initial concern was to make them feel comfortable and welcome in my home; that they should feel my home was their home and that they could make themselves at home. Secondly, wanting to make sure they had a great time; their holiday became mine too. I took time off work and did the touristy things with them; the things that locals don’t have the time or necessarily the mindset to do when caught up in everyday life. It was fun. I like fun. I now have the most wonderful memories of the things we shared, the places we visited, the conversations we had. I still picture them around the house. I remember their laughter when I very seriously told them I wanted to keep them hostage and not let them go, but nothing lasts for ever, least of all holidays; all good things must come to an end.”

“Meeting Rose and seeing her constantly writing in her journal, did you have any idea it would turn into this book?”

“I loved watching Rose writing in her little notebook and wondering what she was up to. She did share her thoughts and her words and you could see a pattern emerging, but it was still very raw. Her excitement and her enthusiasm were so appealing, particularly when she met her fellow blogging poets. Dewy, I had no real idea how she was going to handle her book; I thought maybe a diary of daily events and innermost thoughts and witty observations. Rose is truly amazing; life can’t be easy for her. She is incredibly intelligent, smart and sharp with a very strong mind of her own and I think her writing just gets better and better. I am truly impressed with everything she’s achieved, especially this book. I’m hope she gets the recognition and success she deserves. Dewy, Rose is one very, very sassy girl.”

“Diane seems to have been folded into your family effortlessly. What drew you to her Ann? What traits allowed you to love her so unabashedly?”

“Diane has to be one of the sweetest people I have ever met Dewy, but that’s not to say she’s a pushover. She is wonderful company and has a great take on life. She has been through the wars one way or another, but takes on each new battle with stoicism and determination. Rose may think she’s sassy, well so is Diane; she has a fantastic way with words, she’s very quick witted and I loved, and laughed at, some of her turns of phrase. It’s easy to be drawn to Diane… anyone would be.”

“Saying goodbye to Brian must have been hard. Did you wish that the ten days were much longer?”

“Saying goodbye to Brian was hard and I wished the ten days could have been forever. Does that sufficiently answer your question Dewy? No, I didn’t think so! Dewy, our friendship began when I surfed and found his poetry, but no place to comment. However, no shrinking violet, Brian’s email address was in his profile. I had to write to praise his work, I couldn’t possibly read it and ignore it… also I had to ask, “Who are you?” Innocent enough you would think, but who would have ever thought we would have come this far. Brian and I share amazing conversations where we comfortably talk about anything and everything. He is a very interesting and an erudite man, with a wealth of knowledge he willingly shares. I don’t think I ever come off the phone without learning something new. Yeah, it was horribly hard and sad to say goodbye, but it’s not a last goodbye, it really is au revoir, until we meet again. I believe, no, I know, that was merely the first time. We will see each other again, won’t we?”

“My last question for you Ann is simple. If you had a poem that summed up the holiday, would this be the one you choose?”

“Yes Dewy, this poem is the holiday for me.”

“The Only Way”

Day dawned ordained

Long distance strangers

Each existence unknown

Hand of fate played

Poetic words connected

Enquiring thoughts exchanged

Denial powerless

Closeness beckoned

Magnets pulled unseen bond

No choice

It had to be… fascinated

Their word; they had to meet

Curious, compelled

Searching each other

Voyage of discovery was hers

Greeted two bodies

Three souls, two beating hearts

Three minds, four friends side by side

Barriers down

No more mere words alone

Real flesh and blood, to touch, to hold

Their lives distinct

Knowledge, wisdom diverse

New experiences taught, learnt

Initial steps stumbled

Acquaintances to friends to beyond

Long, deep, enduring, indestructible bond

© Ann Raven

“Thank you Ann for your time on my show. I have come to a better understanding of your relationship with all of us. Thanks also to my special remote guests Jo and Drizel. Thanks to Rethabile as well and best wishes for a peaceful resolution. Diane, what can I say? You have a pure soul and a warm heart. It’s been an honor having you grace my stage. Brian as well, it was all right having you here; don’t get a swelled head. Lastly, dear Rose. We did it, you and I; we pulled it off. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Dewy Knickers signing off. Until the next time, keep flashing those knickers and living and laughing.”

‘To Camden Town we did Ride (Before the fire in February 2008)’

“Knickers Abroad; a multiple journey”

by

Rose D. Kaye

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For a complete list of chapters in numerical order please go to this page.

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Chapter Seventeen

‘To Camden Town we did Ride (Before the fire in February 2008)’

The three divas, Diane, Drizel and I, the one and only Rosie, decided, after bidding a warm farewell to Jo and Marie, to ride the Northern line to Camden Town. It was a fairly long walk from the Tate Modern to the Bank station and then onto the very crowded trains. The entire Circle line, parts of the District line and Northern line were closed this weekend for maintenance so the available cross lines were getting a heavy workout. Plus, Camden Town is a huge weekend attraction all by itself. Did we have a fun time? A fantastic time! There was a teeming swarm of shoppers both looking for bargains and to be seen in their finest clothes. Due to the chilly weather most of the crowd was bundled up and there were very few outlandishly dressed people although the entire area is a curious mixture of funk and hip. Those who paraded in bright colors or bizarre clothing were, for the most part, barkers. The sidewalks being so narrow and the mob being so large, most were practically forced into the street. If I may make a recommendation here, it would suit the area better to convert Camden High Street to a pedestrian mall with stalls down the center of the pavement. The vehicular traffic is both a hazard and distraction. Even more crowded still were the various flea markets that have sprung up in the open cobbled courtyards amidst the permanent stores. We had only a few hours to explore and we decided to strike off in random directions and shop the areas that meandered through a labyrinth of old buildings and halls.

Since we had hundreds of pounds left unspent from our budget and we had bought nothing of substance in Paris, I wanted something permanent to remember London. I found what I was looking for. A very cool and funky shoulder bag that was all me, black with pink leopard spotted handles and highlighted with a white skeletons of a cat and a fish. After a snack of fresh jelly doughnut it was time to plunge headlong into the cramped passageways. By some large stroke of fortune, we came across a tiny shop that had the best bargains we had seen the entire trip. Racks and racks of second hand leather jackets for only ten pounds each! Amongst the large collection of dark brown and black jackets, I was instantly drawn to a gorgeous sea foam green coat. It had dark green satin lining with gold buttons and lots of pockets. I tried it on and it fit perfectly. No stains, no rips; a well broken-in garment. It was perfect for me. Diane and I browsed through the rest of the stock looking for something for her. We found two, the first was a stunning demi-jacket in bright purple suede and the second was a brilliant medium blue leather coat with a vent in the back. An amazing shop with great merchandise and to purchase three leather jackets in great shape for only thirty pounds was fantastic.

“You had recommended to Rose that the afternoon be spent shopping at Camden Town. Was this a part of London you enjoyed Drizel?”

“Oh yes Dewy, the shopping in Camden, that place is another love of mine and I was so happy to share it with Rose and Diane. I kinda imagined you would love the place too. It was fun seeing how Diane and Rose interacted, I still say Diane is amazing, just for the fact that you guys are best friends, one can see it.”

“What drew you to Camden Town Drizel? I know you didn’t care for London all that much, so why this place?”

“Why I like Camden so much Dewy is because there are millions of different people there, punks, Goths, tourists and the silly chicky like me and everyone just takes the streets over and blends the cultures, to make one very funky spunky cake; okay not space cakes, but I am sure if one searched hard enough you’ll find some.”

“Space cakes Drizel? I thought we had doughnuts?”

“Silly Rosie I know that. The treats we had were oh so yummy. What I meant was it was good just to walk and talk. I am happy we decided to go to Camden because it is like my favorite place on earth, and I got to show you. And thanks for the dress you got me… whoohooo… rock on.”

Horses

The three of us wandered for several wonderful hours taking in all the sights. There were food places scattered everywhere, not that we snacked, and it seemed that anything you could want was available somewhere. I was surprised to see several canals offering barges tours and in one market there was a wall with dark bronze horse head sculptures mounted in place, commemorating the horse market which once stood there. Despite the changes and commerce, there seemed to be an attempt made to preserve some of the history of the area. Progress of course moves on and not everything old should be saved, but Camden Town has made a good effort to bridge the ancient with the modern. Alas, all good things must end and we made our final stop in an enormous multi-level Goth store. Drizel picked out a sweet black satin miniskirt with ribbons and a white ruffle. I offered it to her as a gift to remember me by.

“How did you feel about parting from them Drizel? You’d only had a few hours together, was it as good as you’d hoped it would be?”

“I was sad to go and had so much fun. There was so much I wanted to say to Rose but did not know the words. It is like one meets amazing people in life and they pass through and in time one will forget them. I actually wanted to cry when I said bye to you guys, because there are other people one meets in one’s life that leave a mark, a print on one’s soul. Makes one a better person, because I understand and feel more love for human life and souls. This is what you left on me my dear friend Rosie, I will never think the same about people again; I have gotten a new dimension to me and it is all thanks to the amazing soul that you are.”

“Ekstase lê hier”

tydelik het ek die skoonheid gesien.
deur oë van ‘n lustige jong man,
ek het nie omgegee nie, ek het gesien.
die stad was groot en my hart,
was meer gebreek as heel.
ek kon nie kies of ek moes bly,
of miskein het die heelal vir my gekies.
gebroke siel in die ysterstad,
koue vloere, mure vol urine,
hoe soek mens jou siel hier?
ek het myself verloor om agter ‘n deur;
iemand anders te vind.
gee op, nie ek nie.
kry seer, meer as een keer.
liefde vir jouself;
liefde in ‘n gebroke stad.
waar jy jouself ‘n slaaf noem.
waar jy soos ‘n soldaat bloed volg, geld volg.
seer en rou is ek tot ek weer kan asem haal,
in die blou lug van die moederland.
My ekstase lê in Afrika

“Ecstasy lies here”

shortly I saw the beauty.
through the eyes of a lustful young man,
I did not care, I saw.
the city was big, and my heart,
was broken more than healed.
I could not choose if I stayed,
or maybe the universe chose for me.
broken soul in a steel city,
cold floors, walls full of urine,
how do you search your soul here?
I lost myself behind doors,
to find someone else.
give up, I could not.
get hurt more than once.
love for yourself.
love in a broken city.
here you call yourself a slave,
you follow money like a soldier follows blood.
sore and raw, until I can breathe again,
in blue skies of the motherland.
My ecstasy lies in Africa.

© Drizel Burger