Indigenous Fantasies
Indigenous, as innate, from within, unacquired and native to the land. And for a while now the eccentric morbid queen has been plagued by "indigenous fantasies".
Fantasies that come from within and that communicate something in a certain unique form with images and ideas no other fantasies can do. Or did.
How can I explain it?
I remain as puzzled as I was when I first navigated this realm, this strange, inhospitable realm of the fantasies that come from within. And that are closer to parts of my brain, I never knew anything could reach or connect with.
I long and I long to what these fantasies represent, to the meaning they carry, the underlying unsaid, that I avoid at all expense.
Over some great salad in Zamalek, which is very reasonably priced, I tried to explain to Kiki, to no avail of course, what I am going through.
But it goes without question that Kiki was distracted by the nearest shiny object that was held by any creature with two developed testicles.
And after a few futile attempts I resigned myself to the fact that Kiki will never understand.
And won't be interested in understanding.
And so another post goes to this blog.
And I can try and try to fathom with the onset of these strange fantasies. Of what it would be like to actually be with an Egyptian and to actually not use or refer to anything outside this culture or this legacy. If one can term it as such.
But such pristine notions about a "pure culture" or "unblemished legacy" hardly exist.
But then I am tired of being inundated with Western notions of desire, sexuality, or even a basic raison d'etre.
I wonder how is it like for less cosmopolitan individuals. As classicist and condescending as this sounds, its true.
I think we all have to come to terms with the culture baggage we carry.
And maybe its not even about a more "ethnically" pure individuals, as much as individuals who are at peace with their multiplicity.
In a non-reductionist, silly kind of way.
Or maybe that's just me being unable to tag along my Westernized, culturally-disposed folk.
60-70% of the people "like me" left this country at some point in time or want to leave it.
Maybe this is my inability to blend in and a very desperate attempt to find a social alternative.
A collectivity of individuals who would be easier to deal with.
Instead of the high-maintenance Gucci-fashion-victims.
If I can't be a Gucci bad girl, maybe I can be a good, Muslim girl as Kiki once tried (but again failed miserably).
But I don't think I can play that role anymore.
I am done with beards and galabiyas, its not my scene.
How will the eccentric, morbid queen deal with this episode of "indigenous fantasies", remains to be seen.
Fantasies that come from within and that communicate something in a certain unique form with images and ideas no other fantasies can do. Or did.
How can I explain it?
I remain as puzzled as I was when I first navigated this realm, this strange, inhospitable realm of the fantasies that come from within. And that are closer to parts of my brain, I never knew anything could reach or connect with.
I long and I long to what these fantasies represent, to the meaning they carry, the underlying unsaid, that I avoid at all expense.
Over some great salad in Zamalek, which is very reasonably priced, I tried to explain to Kiki, to no avail of course, what I am going through.
But it goes without question that Kiki was distracted by the nearest shiny object that was held by any creature with two developed testicles.
And after a few futile attempts I resigned myself to the fact that Kiki will never understand.
And won't be interested in understanding.
And so another post goes to this blog.
And I can try and try to fathom with the onset of these strange fantasies. Of what it would be like to actually be with an Egyptian and to actually not use or refer to anything outside this culture or this legacy. If one can term it as such.
But such pristine notions about a "pure culture" or "unblemished legacy" hardly exist.
But then I am tired of being inundated with Western notions of desire, sexuality, or even a basic raison d'etre.
I wonder how is it like for less cosmopolitan individuals. As classicist and condescending as this sounds, its true.
I think we all have to come to terms with the culture baggage we carry.
And maybe its not even about a more "ethnically" pure individuals, as much as individuals who are at peace with their multiplicity.
In a non-reductionist, silly kind of way.
Or maybe that's just me being unable to tag along my Westernized, culturally-disposed folk.
60-70% of the people "like me" left this country at some point in time or want to leave it.
Maybe this is my inability to blend in and a very desperate attempt to find a social alternative.
A collectivity of individuals who would be easier to deal with.
Instead of the high-maintenance Gucci-fashion-victims.
If I can't be a Gucci bad girl, maybe I can be a good, Muslim girl as Kiki once tried (but again failed miserably).
But I don't think I can play that role anymore.
I am done with beards and galabiyas, its not my scene.
How will the eccentric, morbid queen deal with this episode of "indigenous fantasies", remains to be seen.
Comments
Or as modern songs tell us "once i know who i am not, i will know who i am"
And in my opinion, that's what life is all about, finding out who u truly are, enjoying every little thing u discover about your true self.
Its comforting to read that and know someone acknowledges such a moral (and psychological) dilemma.
I for myself am always fascinated by liminalities. Things that border the margin.
Never totally in, never totally out.
And it kind of creates a space within a space. Thats never truly understood and not very intelligible.
But such liminal space, is always contested.
Lying at a point which is the end of something and the beginning of something else, reconciling irreconcilables, that is how it feels.
And people are either appalled by such syncretism, 'how come you're Muslim and gay?', 'how come you only date foreigners?', 'how come you don't go skiing in st Mortiz?'
Or just amused by the futility of it all.
And while I am continuing to surprise myself I am immensely grateful to people who acknowledge this journey of self-discovery and offer a few words of kindness.