My Mustang carpet ride

I bought myself a Mustang today...

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to drive either a fire bird trans am or a mach1 mustang.In my fantasies they were both black, like rogue stallions,stallions that swept me away like white unicorns.

So why not. Why keep resisting the temptation right? right....

There she is. perfect for me. She is not black but white and she is convertible. She is a dream. As I got in i sunk into her leather seats, moulded to my body, I melt into her ,entwined, we were one. My fingers feel the icy keys as i clasp them, push them in and turn. Start.She purrs.

I drive away slowly, clutch in, clutch out, clutch me free, I drive faster , she roars, i howl as the wind rushes past my hair through my my mind, bare!

I slowdown and park by the sea, Oh to make love in this car... This care, could it be... I look around and everything fades, i fall to the ground and its just me, no purr of her engine or seat weaved upon me, no.

why this mustang of mine is so flawless,so dreamy is because it fits so perfectly in the palm of my hand, it fits in my pocket, I ride it with my fingers not my feet or my hands.

Be it a toy car, may it not be, either way its driven by me

homeward found

Ironic that I "found myself in India", and that is a deliberate play on words. I was always the one to make mockery of those who would say, I'm going to India to find myself or I found myself in India.

I always said the last place I would choose to visit would be , yes India and this is obviously where the irony lies , i say loudly smirking shyly as I whisper to myself ,"oh my god, was I just in India?" this be true I found myself there...

Its debatable if it be the way in which one spiritually finds them self in the way people write books about and base movies upon, no this is not me at all, but I did allow myself to be me. I do not believe it be The place of the beautiful India but the place within the beautiful me, follow?

So I journeyed within me not beside me.

Perhaps in some ways we all posses the ethereal, but that is not my message to myself, simply Ive learnt how much easier I find my life whilst traveling. I'm at ease, i gift myself with balance, the balance of truth,my truth. Thing are open and free. I open with out hesitation or fear, I am the me without the hangups or the fears, I call her the magic me.

I learn each time I travel when I return home, I hold onto that magic, magic being real, I hold and without fail it always fades, I get caught up in everyone else again, my fears like rotten pears touch my pallet,unable to maintain a semblance of calm as I swallow my poison. I loos my free spirit to my closed walls.

Now, I have no desire to do as I always do, why not keep being who I know,who I am so comfortable being, my trueness in essence of my magic that speaks in the magnitude of phenomenal stories, stories which are not just that, but mirrors of not a fading spirit but a well working freeing one.

I am me, when I travel I am me, I walk into myself, I open my door "walk through it" I am me,when I am home, my door is still here, "just walk through it"

its always magical to be who you are, when things are beautiful and even when it hurts , the important thing is : you know who you are

days

ust a moment remembered from each day....

Day 1: Rickshaw Rush

We were taken for a ride by an insidious tacky jewelry man. The idea was for my mom to do business with him. Turned out he did business with us. His business was of dishonesty. Once he realised were disinterested in his very tacky over exaggerated jewelry, I'm not sure even the Williams sisters would wear dangling round there necks. But yes he promised a ride back to the hotel, 3 minutes in he received "a phone call" stopped on the side of the road and told us he had a meeting, "get out "

Here we were in the middle of no where in a part of town we knew not very far from our hotel . (wait,we didn't know any part of town) You would think one would be scared but I was not, as I watched him drive off, I chuckled and thought, "adventure!!!!!"

The excitement had kicked me in the gut before my foot reached the curb of the sidewalk, before I realise we were in a rather dark side of town, before My brain connected to my heart and said , "OK, fuck,what now?" well what does any woman do when with there mother when in a predicament, walk into the closest bazaar and shop. that's when I noticed my mom didn't seem to be too perturbed either.

After a bit of shop-lets pretend this is not happen-ing , we realised no cabs and to my utmost satisfaction we had no choice but to climb into one of the local tuck tucs with the help of the merchant we had just bought from.

Oh how pretty this ride was, zooming in and out of the traffic at the back of a bike with over bearing beautiful hooting in my ears, the beat of the traffic in sync to the the beat of my finger on the trigger of my camera, the trigger connected to the true view of my eye, freeee. my mom laughing every time she hit her head with every bump, then cursing,then laughing.

Until we reached the hotel, where they were not used to there clients taking joyrides in rickshaws,tuck tucs or any local means. Was the rush the ride or the expression of the concierge as i got out, the rush was being dropped in the middle of nowhere but knowing I was safe,believing I was true and seeing I was saved by a journey , journeys so few.

Day2: Good luck express to Taj Mahal

5am wake up call not always my strong point unless it has a purpose and today my purpose was to have the whole India train experience. Well including the train station this experience lasted all of 10.5minutes. To my surprise mom was actually quite excited, mom who I had to coax to get on my bloody train. We arrived at the station and me being half asleep couldn't really care less how we got to how platform, left mom to do all the work. Found myself climbing over people asleep spread out all over the floor, the stations smell best described as one huge male urinal. I followed my mom who took charge, she collected a couple of English back backpackers and we all made our way to the platform.

As the train approached I could sense my moms dis ease, I became excited until I slowly realised the concierge at the hotel had ripped us off. We were under the impression we were booked on second class , only to find ourselves in a dingy carriage of sleeper class. We climbed in, my excitement dropped at the pace of a small stone been thrown off a high cliff. we walked up and down, lost, confused. My mom was trying to humour me and sat on the bed next to a sadistically sleeping man with a stench as bad as the dirty station. I could not see out the window as it was black. we were in a moving slum. I could see tears swell up in her eyes, he voice broke as she spoke, " nooooo no no Carey, can you really see yourself doing this for 8 hours? , you cant even take pictures, no no no." I smiled, knowing I was defeated by a romantic Idea that was not romantic at all, I stood up and grabbed he, " no, I cant see this, lets go" we jumped out the train as it started moving.

It turned out to be a blessing, outside the station we met Sameer, "husband 2" who became our driver. We learnt much from Sameer as he drove us 4 hours to Agra. 4 hours though vacant lands. He told stories about his life, which I believe were just that:stories, but they were so mystically made up,I could not help but wait for the next word.

We had our own fictional magic carpet ride , filled with mystic potions(being the speed he seemed to be hooked on), stories about villages and sharing fires in huts,omens and cultures,we were led finally 12 toll gates later. a monkey taunted by a red haired wizard led by black magic, a pack of fags i smoked out the back window, mesmerising learning's of another, we arrived at the magical Taj Mahal.

I was overwhelmed by all these people,had a bi polar moment where i just wanted out,wanted to disappear, I sometimes couldn't handle my mother,nor myself, I wanted to evaporate.

Interesting enough I found solace in "fame"

I was stalked at first by young boys, who wanted my picture,then to shake my hand and before you knew it my mom and I were having family portraits with other family's. This to me is something more then just fascinating. Its unreality makes me disappear, into another realm, more than here or there, just less then me and more then I.

The Taj Mahal which is of course magical in splendor and rhymes to a place kept close, but the journey to this place of "love" the journey is the gift.

Check(me)out

j

Marry Me on Hashish Crn

WOW: Wondrous Ohmy Wonder or some other million concepts like that.
I don’t know where to start, as today definitely falls into one of thus days that has no beginning nor has it and end, it opens, unfolds, magically takes shape and I have journeyed through this cycle of simple heightened voyage all day.


I keep thinking, after sitting on the side of the street watching the monkey “shopping” amongst the people, waiting for my mom to finish an hour barter of beautiful colours running through merchants fingertips, using there whimsical voices as instruments. I rather enjoyed the free coffee,cooldrink, “smoke inside lady” , I enjoyed the humming of the we give you buy, MORE!
Thus as I do so often during the day found myself sitting on the side walk, behind a thin layer of smoke making my usual unusual “friends”

This is where I met Shakir. At first I was sceptical, he gave me a chair, offered me some tea, asked for a cigarette, then the rest of the box. Only then did he tell me he did not smoke but tricked me so to give it to his friends and to sit beside me. And here we go.
He asked if I drank, “no!” with a smile, “you do other intoxicating things?” once again I smile, “no longer.” He laughs. At this point there are three more men crowded around me and they listen as I tell my story. “ My god did I just have a “NA” Share in the side streets of Jaipur as my mom bought kaftans”

The group dispersed, all but 2, the elder man very amused by me, sipped at his tea and took my box of cigarettes, “this my friend is good, this my friend is better for you than the hashish or the dark stuff, you see?” he handed the box back smiled, “you keep smoking this, you stay away from the other!” This made me smile.

Shakir had obviously moved in closer, he is probably the only single Indian man I have met thus far, good-looking, not very humble, very charming, slightly insecure, rough but soft with a deer like spirit. At first he was more interested in taking me to smoke hashish. “After my story you want me to smoke hashish with you? “ He claimed he changed his mind but at this point I’m sure he would try most anything to get “close” to me including what came next: He went to fetch his uncle who in turn asked for her daughters hand in marriage to his nephew!

All this took place while my mom was buying kaftans and jewellery; I was whispering beautiful words to precious strangers. In one two hours had I been the other carey I could possible be smoking hashish in Jaipur while my mom was running off with black diamonds. Of course my promise to my arranged marriage would be null and void because I would be lost and my mom would be gone.

BUT

I am Carey now so In just 2 hours I wandered off into a textile place like any other textile place in the streets of Jaipur, this one was different, I met a man who spoke of his frustrations on all the rules they have in India and his culture, I shared with him my frustrations I have within myself, we smiled we laughed, we crossed temptation, he gave me a gift and then asked me to be his wife, I declined of course, but I had my photo taken with him anyhow, some things are perfectly in tune with how I woudof or could of felt for another, so I believe treat some other the way you would wanted to be treated in turn?

So much more than this I have come across today, seeing my mom feed monkeys at a temple, the temple of the sun gods, I insisted on taking her and I’m glad I did, because she was calm and she fed all those monkeys with purity. This place is much like an ashram vibe, collective people living off the land and prayer, it was hazed in a calm of hum, that makes things seem a little numb As we left where the monkey keeper once we “prayed”,” meditated” said to me, “you know your honey is funny and your funny comes from your honey"

A couple of Camels later

24 hours later after flights, airports, tiny little musky smoking rooms occupied mainly by men huddled together staring you down to the ground with each puff on the ol fag., yes 24 long hours later of gaining very swollen ankles from being fast asleep though out my flight with absolutely no movement, nope not even to the "rest"room, i supposes swollen ankles are expected, but not easy on my lets tread along India feet at all.

we, being my mother and I are finally in Jaipur...

I find it beautiful how different people SEE thing from different perspectives, the way the perceive people, colours, I may see an old beggar on the street and notice the one missing tooth, the dark lines that lay deep behind her eyes, how she has seen worlds with these eyes, slums of beauty, i see her smile with her lines and cry with her smile, this is how I see, when another may just see a dirty old homeless woman begging, dirty clothes,no shoes, turn there backs to the gutters, i don't know? A nother may see a wise healer, it all lies in the individuals home of story heart.

I love it in India, it is for me the most energetic place I have ever been, it is not your typical walk around shop strut, or sit in the park,lay on the beach and sip mojits, but it is a canvas of sound and the colour is the honking of every sould that lives where you see and where you don't, but believe me i feel and its vibrant.

Being where with my mom is testing at times, not always into the same thing but we try to compromise and so far its working. For example, last night we arrived and we had booked a hotel online. At the airport not even the taxi drivers were interested taking us to this hotel it was so so very far from town, I was excited non the less. we arrived to no electricity, my mom giggled with me and wanted to take the taxi straight back to town, we agreed to stay for the experience. The experience was well worth it.

after a night at "men only" hotel, very male chauvinist men at that, we woke to nothing, nowhere and hardly no one. It was exciting. A couple of cows and a few camels later we are now settled in Jaipur centre, a very comfortable hotel amidst the manic. This comfort works for me.

The only problem i have are these painful heels that are crying to be deflated and praying for non clot please.No other little anxiety, or let me be worried about at least one thing today. No I choose not to worry about anything today. Its just me as I am where I am, today...

Today I'm in Jaipur, right now I'm in my very comfortable room(perfect for a Taurus, a Carey Taurus, love a bit of comfort,escpiaclly enfolded by the beauty of manic and the sadness that lies in it too)
this is a picture from my room: