Haikus and unicorns

So, I posted my ori-related haikus in the Whatsapp group this morning.

At first people saw them but did not react. But come midday, I got a dozen hearts (including from Carina, Theia, and Virginia), a hugging emoji from Gaia, Despina's tulip (I wonder why she chose a tulip? but she replied that she loved them!) and heart eyes from Vela. I was so damn anxious about it but then... once they all got free for a minute and got some time to spare reading it, they seemed to have loved them. 

My creative work, in the middle of a Whatsapp group.

Hikianalia hasn't reacted yet but she might, later. 

***

But why unicorns? Well, because I ordered a unicorn canvas from Vinted. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it. That makes two unicorns in my room, and they are so different from Hopoe's unicorns. 

I don't remember if I mentioned I received that sweet little unicorn I ordered three-ish weeks ago, but I did, and she sits next to my laptop nicely. Sweet as she is, lovely as she looks, she is inoffensive and unprovocative.

***

The one on my wall is getting loved by her witch mistress. The colours are so calm, there are some rhinestones on the hood and on the horn... and the whole art looks so soft. 

Nothing to do with that sickening one that has "decided to be happy" and cheerily says that "the rest can go unicorn itself", or the "unibitch", who "puts glitter in people's life, but can also throw it in their eyes if they deserve it". The smug little shit with her glass of wine and her nauseating pastel colours. 

***

I know where those unicorns, and my wish to have some around, came from... and as godawful as I find Hopoe's unicorns, it's... like.

I do want to keep you around me.

In a way I find palatable.

Not as some cringy passive-aggressive bitchy unicorn, but as the soft and sweet one that looked at me with those eyes full of stars,

and as the big, mystical animal that I could sit next to and feel calm with.

The one I would kiss on the neck, hold the big head of, and ride into the night.

I miss those unicorns. I miss the ones that weren't that... absolutely awful distortion of an animal so noble as the unicorn. A legendary horned horse that can only be tamed by a pure heart or whatever the local legend around it is. 

And I especially hate your fucking unicorns because of the way you used them. 

The first one: when I called you out at the recital, asking you why the hell you unblocked me if it was to still react this way. Or when I had just attempted suicide, and you had deleted your Whatsapp account two days later in the most terrible strategic mistake that probably got you a remark from the hierarchy you attempted to use against me.

The second one: when I nearly died, came back to work and immediately had to go on medical leave because the place was giving me traumatic reactions, and you... you put this shit on right before I was due to come back. 

But... 

...but the first unicorns.

I love them.

Just like I love you when you're a normal person. I love you when you're not acting like a complete twat. And yeah, I'll admit I still do love you when you are indeed being a twat, but... I miss that other you, Hopoe, you know.

***

Anyway. Enough unsent dialogue.

Just... look at this beautiful piece of art. The artist is Anne Stokes. I've seen that the actual title is Solace.

Solace, solace.

Martian Eyes

 

Марсианских глаз

Золотистый блеск

Запрещённых снов

Безопасный секс

Я боюсь спугнуть

Или отпустить

Я хочу молчать

И не пропустить

Открывать, закрывать

Надоело играть

Переделывать, врать

Начинать и кончать

Всё равно пройдёт

Отменю тебя

Я опять одна

Видно, я больна

И опять не спать

Зайчиков считать

Белочек искать

Я хочу молчать

Открывать, закрывать

Надоело играть

Переделывать, врать

Начинать и кончать

Наверное, мне место на Луне

Но страшно оставаться в темноте

***

Martian eyes

A flicker of gold

Forbidden dreams

Safe sex

I'm afraid of scaring you off,

Or letting you go

I want to remain silent

And not admit it

Opening up, closing off

I'm sick of playing games

Rewriting things, telling lies,

Beginning and ending

It'll all pass anyway,

I will cut you off,
Be alone again

Looks like I'm unwell

Yet again can't sleep

Counting bunnies,

Looking for squirrels,

I want to keep silent

Opening up, closing off

I'm sick of playing games

Rewriting things, telling lies,

Beginning and ending

My place might be on the Moon

But to remain in the dark scares me

O Hina

 Hell yes, we're starting to learn choreographies!

But also, I must say something: the lady with the frangipani who notices when I'm excusing myself to the loo is none other than Juno's mother.

I have found her a name now. Gaia. Technically Gaia is the mother of Rhea who is the mother of Juno in mythology, but I think Gaia is better for her than Rhea is. 

So Gaia and Juno, mother and daughter, it is...

***

Hikianalia appeared tired today. It was in the eyes, particularly around the second tier of the class. She was forgetting words, sometimes stopping in the middle of a sentence to think... now that might just be that she was improvising, she did say she made her classes as she was going and did not have a set program, but... you know. Who knows if I can even trust myself anyway? 

I don't know if it's true, and I did not dare ask her, or tell her "you should take it easy tonight" at the end of the class... because, well. I'm scared that if it turns out not to be true, she will get offended. I mean, she's pregnant, she doesn't need people like me assuming her emotions like that. Like. In my head I straight up picture her looking at me the same way Hopoe looked at me, telling me I "overthink things" when, after several days of coldness, I ended up going up to her because it was eating away at me.

If I hear another "you're overthinking" with the angriest look in her eyes, you can bet I will be terrified of coming to class.

Of course, Hikianalia probably wouldn't do that... but how do I know, holy crap, everyone appears safe until they aren't. Everyone says they're "transparent" and "hide nothing" until they do.

For God's sake. I am. Fucking. Scared. Of asking my teacher if she is okay. Or telling her to take a rest because I have perceived tiredness in her.

It's not a crime, is it?

It feels like one to me. 

I'm so afraid of getting met with an annoyed look or a violent clapback, even as Hikianalia so far has not manifested violence or aggression... that I just hold off on even saying things like that.

***

I talk so easily in the Whatsapp group. In real life? Not so much. I hate myself. I fucking hate myself. I'm absolutely capable of expressing my appreciation in a fucking text yet I flinch when Hikianalia is too close to me or when someone even just taps my shoulder.

Gina (her or the other one with the same name, but I assume it's her) asked about the festival to get the dates because she was not at the reunion and I was the one to reply and show the festival's (AI made) poster. Others hearted it. She thanked me for it. 

I guess I am useful.

Louise did to ask me to slightly move away, and I jumped, as usual... 

I hate, hate, hate this person inside this body. I hate how she makes everything hard. The ex was right, I make everything hard. And Hopoe was righter than everyone else about me. I'm immature and I overthink.

There's nothing remotely redeemable about this one writing this post and I wish the others understood it.

***

A lot of our fellow students were absent today for whatever reason. Just before the class, a few of the girls said that they would be here on Tuesday. Most are not named yet, and Theia will not be in class until next week. 

I am tired due to my period, and so was Virginia, who came to wait with me. Despina was with a boy who looked like her. I assume it's probably her brother or something... or I don't know, maybe not? Oh. I don't know. It looks like perhaps that full moon was taxing on everyone.

Might be why all those girls said they'd be here on Thursday rather than today.

***

We practiced fa'arapu today, and Hikianalia paired me with Argo. Given that Argo has a decade of experience, I wonder if she didn't pair me with her because I tend to do well? 

I tried to see a pattern. Typically when we are paired with someone they are roughly the same size as us. That is in normal environments. But Hikianalia paired me with Juno, who is shorter and rounder, with Louise, who is taller and a little thicker but also has experience with ori, and now with Argo... who is taller, much heavier, and who has a decade under her belt. It can't be a size thing. I guess it's perhaps... an experience thing? A level thing?

I suggested that it was from intuition. Argo agreed with it.

Then, we did some varu again. Tough to actually advance while doing varu lol, but I will get there. I am so fired up. The girls are all complaining about how hard it is, and meanwhile, I say that it's exactly why it's the best thing ever. They are hot and sweaty: I relish, I prance, I am utterly fired up. I never get enough. I am all bouncy. I need to move.

And yes, the last part was about practicing this first bit of choreography... and I think I will ask Hikianalia tomorrow about solos. 

I might tell her to take care at the end of the conversation...

...but damn what kind of burden I am. Literally.

[SPOILER FOR TWIN PEAKS S2E02!]

I was watching the second episode of the second season of Twin Peaks. Finished the first one a few days ago.

About halfway through the episode, you see Leo Johnson in hospital, with Shelly, who has got better after the smoke inhalation from the wood mill's fire, asking if he's a vegetable... if they can cure him... if he'll be okay.

The same guy who literally tied her up inside a mill and installed a timer to set fire to said mill.

To kill her.

And it's not the first time he attacked her or tried to kill her.

And she still cares about him.

I got taken back to this day in the Colonel's office when he said that there were harassment allegations about me due to what happened with Hopoe.

And... I just. I remember how, in tears, shaking, barely able to talk, I would ask if she would be okay.

I remember how I protected her career all that time. I did not speak partly because I felt I would not be believed and it would even make things worse, but also because I did not want her reputation to suffer.

Hopoe who literally attacked me at the snack bar while I was already down, and... well, you know what I did to myself right after.

Hopoe who gave me, for months, the silent treatment for something completely inconsequential. Hopoe who insulted me, called me immature, who said I was "overthinking" when it was her who acted erratically, who made me a sort of devilish figure in her mind I guess, so radioactive that even existing in the same online space is intolerable to her, from all I see.

Leo tried to kill Shelly and she still asks if he'll be okay. She does love Bobby, but she does love Leo, too, in spite of everything. Dude is the worst possible asshole and a violent abuser and she still loves him.

Hopoe almost killed me as well, attempted to literally assassinate my character, and still when I learned, a month ago, that she could damn well be punished for what she did to me and for abusing the procedure of reporting harassment, I was not happy.

I am still not happy about the idea she possibly has her advancement frozen, could be transferred God knows where doing a job that she will hate, that quite possibly some of Cepheus' team don't talk to her anymore or just are no longer the same around her, that she will have to live with what she did all her life.

And I still want her back. 

If I were in that scene in Shelly's place, and Hopoe was laying there unconscious, I would have straight up taken her hand or caressed her hair. 

...

I feel it, Shelly. I really do.

Helping around

I did not precise it yesterday but I recorded the reunion on my phone. Just checked: the sound quality is good, even if obviously it's not loud asf, it can still be understood well. I haven't got to the part where the Marquesan lady and her husband were speaking, but probably it's doing okay.

I will obviously not tell anyone that I did record it (or perhaps I will later and apologize for not saying it sooner?), but hmm, maybe next time there is one I will ask Hikianalia if I can do it as to be able to transmit it to those who cannot attend. Or maybe I can record it and transcribe it, or make it into an account. After all, I write well. I have good synthesis capacities, as well. 

She did say during the reunion that if anyone, whether student, parent, or anything, wanted to help, that such help is welcome.

Help is safe. Help is a way that doesn't expose you too much. 

I will probably make myself useful somehow. It's weird because I feel I don't technically have to.

But I want to. And that's...

***

...I've tried multiple times making myself useful to people and it mattered to nothing, or my help wasn't warranted. I tried being invested. Back when I lived at my father's I had basically brought upon myself the role of being the family reporter. I took so many pictures to put in an album.

And nobody really cared that I was doing it.

Nobody really thanked me for it.

I was always a thankless figure. Making effort because I wanted to. Because I wanted to be part of something, and have a role. Have something that would put some structure to my existence within the group, like there used to be.

My camera hasn't seen the light of day since last May or June.

I would prepare breakfast. I would be the first to get up. I would put the table, I would prepare food, I would make a good table for the family when they would wake up.

I was thanked superficially. 

Thanks, that's really nice of you.

But at the end of the day, nobody really cared whether I was doing it or not.

And for fuck's sake, that last time I cooked for the family, I still can NOT forget about this. I can't forget about how I prepared those beans... and father came back with his Italian shit and totally disregarded what I had just done for the family.

Or those times I cooked rice or anything for three, only to have it fall apart.

Thankless, thankless server. Just good to be told to "do chores", but when I actually go out of my way to do something, there's barely any acknowledgement.

My mom, I do know she appreciates me making lunch and sometimes dinner, but that's a wholly different thing. It's just the two of us. It would be insane in my eyes not to take care of the sixty-something parent I'm living with. 

***

But maybe... maybe this time, I can actually help and have it matter somehow.

Just too many times in my life I've genuinely wanted to be part of something, go from something passive to something active, actually take part into the life of a group or a team or whatever, and it fell flat because at the end of the day, nobody needs Hi'iaka, and perhaps she'd be better off staying a simple moon.

(because yes, Hi'iaka is also the name of a moon of a celestial object named Haumea. Hence the...)

So... will I...

I'll wait a little before asking, m'kay?

Just like I pace myself. 

I'm pretty sure I look weird as shit.

I must look like a fucking coward to anyone who is watching.

Hopoe would tell me I'm "making knots in my brain" in that derogatory way.

I guess she's right.

...I guess she's always been right about me.

 

All-school reunion

Not all-school actually, a lot of us adult students were not here. But we had a reunion today where Hikianalia talked about things. We were about forty or so in the room, us adult students, the parents and the younger students.

I had some terrible anxiety when we were all here, but it eased as soon as Hikianalia started talking. I also had a Polynesian mom whose face reminds me of Hopoe sitting next to me, with her three daughters. The two youngest came, and then the third one... who is either adult and intermediate/advanced or younger, and she was massive... like, more massive than Hopoe. I have such a thing for massiveness since Hopoe, and it has not left me since. I don't know. 

It's not necessarily the Polynesian factor. I mean, for... reasons. That I can't really explain here because that may or may not give my identity away. Keeping this ambiguous for reasons. IKYK. 

But you really have to... face the fact that the massiveness is often found there. There are white women who are just as massive. But holy Lord do I have to look away from massive women no matter what colour they are lmao.

***

I was sitting away from most of the group. In fact, the core of the ones from my class who came are the "old guard". The ones who've been there for a while. Despina was here too but we didn't talk. Or hardly. I don't need to anyway. Given how she is, I think we're both perfectly content appreciating each other from afar. 

The cute girl from the first day came late. From her badge, she works at the hospital, perhaps as a nurse, or as an emergency operator, but given her age, I'd be willing to think she might be in training. She has a Vietnamese last name, and from a conversation we had later with Virginia and her, she has family that has ties to the Polynesian community and actually stumbled upon ori tahiti purely by chance, walking her dog. 

I don't like her voice very much but that's okay, if we get to know each other I'll get used to it. I will refer to her as... mmh, let's call her Tara, after the bodhisattva. (I really do have a lot of extended mythology knowledge, don't I?).

***

At some point it was no longer Hikianalia talking, but one of her collaborators, who is organizing, alongside his wife (a Marquesan judging by their common Polynesia-Marquesas tee shirt, dude is white with a bunch of patutiki). I watched Hikianalia. She was rubbing her pregnant belly, and she was smiling at the two kids next to her, playing. She also caressed the head of the little girl. 

I don't think there was anything that made me literally want to cry inside, make my heart swell, and make me think this is a person I'd better hold onto. 

I don't mean romantically, by the way. I've had enough homewrecking in my history... not from me, but from my father and his mistresses, to even THINK of doing this to a poor guy and his soon to be three kids. By the way, saw the guy. He's small and stout like her. Looks like a nice guy, too. More reasons not to even think of doing such awful things.

But dear Lord. My appreciation for Hikianalia went up a notch to the point I just... I don't know how long I will be able to dam it before I explode or cry privately because nobody I've ever known has been like her. And it's not even a goddamn romantic interest. It's my goddamn teacher. It's someone who could evolve into friendship at the furthest. 

But... I cannot. Fathom this. It's unfathomable. I don't even think of her all day, I don't even... I mean, it's strange how you can simultaneously be so moved by someone and yet not have them be the one you think of all the time...

What you do when nobody is watching, or when someone else has the attention on them, says so much about you. And aside from myself, I haven't seen anyone smile like this at a child, or be this sweet to a kid who isn't her own. 

I went to Kazakhstan a few years back and I was feeding the birds in Almaty, in a park. Bought some seeds from a crippled dude who'd sell them. A Kazakh family, two parents and a toddler girl, came to see the pigeons. My bag of seeds was about three quarters finished, but the little girl looked like she wanted to feed them. So I gave her the remainder of my bag. 

I will forever remember how happy this little girl was.

At the festival in May, there were kids fooling around during Hokulea's representation... and the old annoying lady who was with me was telling them to stop. Me? I didn't mind. They're kids. Let them be kids.

***

Things started to be more difficult for me when the speaking part was over and it was time to eat. Although there was some really nice food (two substantial nems that were really tasty but I'm defo still not hungry after a couple of hours), so many people in one room was difficult to deal with.

I felt drowned out in a sea of people, like I had no place. An all too familiar feeling. At some point though, I could talk a little with, as I mentioned, Virginia and Tara.

This is when I learned that Tara found out about ori tahiti really by chance. She was literally walking her dog and saw... ori tahiti that randomly. I told her there isn't really randomness. And I do believe that it was a synchronicity.

Te fe'e nui calls her children. No matter where they were born, if they have any blood in the Pacific, or if they are mixed, or unrelated... if she finds you, you will be drawn back to her, whether you want it or not. She knows who her children are.

And Tara is one of them.

Tara doesn't dance well yet. She is in her first year, and she is much stiffer than me. I don't know whether she also did sports before but for me, I suspect what caused me to have this fluidity is that I used to ride horses. But when I look at her dancing, I just think "yeah, it's not easy, but you'll get there". 

And she will. I do want to believe in her.

I opened up about the fact that it's love that first brought me here. Oddly enough I didn't speak of my novel: just of love. Hopoe without saying her name. 

It was love that brought me here. Even if... well. Even if by the time I did my first workshop, we weren't talking much anymore.

In fact, we hadn't talked at all since November when I did my first workshop with Lehuakona in February.

And I literally lost my train of thought. I quite literally felt like I was... not thinking clearly. I even looked away, unable to speak for an instant, and then I had some trouble getting back there, but talking about how I had done workshops and shit was easier.

***

That said, after this... it took me a few minutes to get back to baseline. Everything felt too loud. I was half there, half not there. My eyes felt like they were seeing nothing. I was holding the tattoo on my arm. My hand on the tiare 'apetahi that represents her. I was feeling scared, lost, I was even thinking of excusing myself to the bathroom to cry.

So I took another cup of water and kept talking.

Hikianalia came to talk to Tara, positioning herself between Tara and I, and she literally startled me haha. I fucking let out a "AH!!" and then started laughing. 

She always gets so damn close to me without looking at me and each time I just feel like I have to step away. I'm just...

I know this is probably not gonna happen.

But I'm so terrified

that she will one day say that I'm too close, accuse me of stalking her, or that I'm being weird.

Totally irrational, I know. 

But I'm so afraid of being perceived as inappropriate or intrusive or stalkerish or even worse, creepy, that I just need to take a step to breathe. 

She's the one positioning herself next to me and I'm the one flinching because it always feels so close for comfort lol. 

The truth is, perhaps she does sense that I'm guarded and she does this as to sort of interact without pressuring me.

..okay, I don't want to imagine she's drawn to my energy. Who would be drawn to my energy anyway. It's delusional to think that I'm anyone people would be drawn to for real anyway. With all my guarded shit. With all the spikes I have on the inside. With how I could turn into Hopoe.

But at the same time, I think she'd avoid doing this if she were not comfortable with my presence.

I just don't want to think my teacher could truly appreciate me.

If it turns out she secretly dislikes me I'd be shattered. Even if not nearly as bad as if this were a lover. 

Anyway. I'm totally entangled. But I still gave a name to Tara.

I also went to the lady who prepared the nems, like, straight up walked to her. Told her she made some sick nems. She was flattered, even a bit embarrassed. I then went back to help people clean up.

The old guard went to the Polynesian restaurant after. A beautiful blue eyed lady, who I will name Theia and who I complimented on her eyes because why the fuck not and it breaks the ice, asked me if I wanted to come. I declined, told her I'm not nearly as sociable enough for that lol.

Truth is, I don't know them any well enough to feel safe eating in their presence. I don't want to feel like a third wheel. I know Theia tried to include me, but I don't want to end up being the one who has no inside jokes and just awkwardly stands there as they're talking about stuff from last year I wouldn't be able to relate to.

And they don't need me, anyway. 

And restaurants are peak anxiety for me. 

But maybe, maybe.

Maybe when I'm not as much of a fucking fortress as I am now. 

They had left when I went to say goodbye to Hikianalia.

So, good evening, Hikianalia!

Ah, good evening! We'll see each other on Tuesday.

I have a few questions to ask but I don't think this is the right moment yet. It's about dance, partially. 

(The question I have in mind is, at which point can I think of dancing solos. Because there are a few songs that I want to dance on my own because I have... my own meaning of them. It would be a different interpretation than the collective dance on the same song. But as I'm still a beginner I don't know if this is the right time to ask.)

Okay, sure.

She walked up to me.

...Do you like reading? I asked.

Mmh, I guess!

You could help me with something, or maybe recommend me someone who could. 

(My novel. She could totally help me with it, with the dialogues, with having the setting feel even more immersive, and even general feedback. I would not show this to someone I don't feel at least a bit safe with.) 

Okay, sure, she replied.

See you later!

See ya!

I said goodbye to the others on the way, and went back to my car, parked, yet again, at the psychiatry department.

Not gonna lie, I just feel so wound up... 

The tattoo

We worked on the same steps as the other day today. 

I actually didn't come in advance like I usually do because I had a little trouble parking... and I also, during an attempt to parallel park behind a 308, I hit the damn car. 

I went to leave the car a little further and came back. I actually did a little dent in it. A minor one, but still one, and I didn't have any notepad on hand to leave my number. I mean, who the fuck even thinks of this?

So I wiped off the little white dust, fixed my own car, and went to park elsewhere... but then I thought, perhaps this would be a hit-and-run offense... so I came back to photograph the license plate, the dent, and I joined a Facebook group to post this in. So far my post hasn't been approved, but hopefully tomorrow it will be. I just hope I will NOT be prosecuted or something because I made a small dent in someone's car.

***

I parked at the hospital, near the psychiatry department. I spent a lot of time there back in the day. I had my appointments with my psychiatrist. It's an old building, and the part next to which I parked is fairly abandoned. The actual psych hospital is a new building behind it, and I still remember the night I spent there. I had requested it from my psychiatrist, who accepted but still thought I wasn't bad enough to go there, and I remember how I regretted it on the first night. I even thought I would get trapped into a neverending cycle of meds, psychiatry, and being locked up.

And how, that night, I saw people worse off than me, and I felt like the sanest patient in the ward.

I remember this middle-aged woman who had been abandoned by her English boyfriend of 19 years, all of a sudden. She had trouble with hygiene. It's obvious this had taken a horrible toll on her. That she could not get over it, and to think she was literally sent to a hospital for... grief. 

I remember we talked about it the evening I was there. She was wearing a mask due to having had a cough recently, and I told her that it wouldn't be easy, but that eventually the pain would go down. That anyone would be shattered by their partner leaving all of a sudden like that. Especially a partner of almost twenty years. 

She cried. She thanked me. When my mother came to pick me up the next day, the lady told her how sweet I was. The other patients, especially a Moroccan schizo (I think?) who'd lay down in weird places, on the ground, smoke cigarettes, be almost impossible to understand orally, possibly at least probably because of the heavy meds he's on, and who'd every now and then get into a squabble with the nurses (he'd start screaming and all and they'd have to restrain him), said the same. They all said that I was such a sweet girl.

I didn't think spending just one night somewhere would get me that, and I still kind of wonder where they all went.

Dude is probably still here, considering his state. Those patients don't tend to be able to live in society.

I do hope the lady is better now. I remember her first name, but not her last, sadly. I wish I could remember it. 

But my words must've stayed with her.

To destroy or to heal.

Anytime I actually speak and not chatter, my voice is never anything neutral.

***

Noticed one detail while changing: very few girls almost strip naked like I do. I actually carry a top and a pareu, and I take off my current oufit. I literally am in my underwear for a short bit of time and I could not care less. But they, for the most part, put on their pareu above shorts or pants and then take them off, or at least they don't strip like I do. 

I wonder if it's because I'm gay, if it's because I'm very comfortable with my body (I'm talking, rubbing one out in front of the mirror type of comfortable. It's actually a curious sight, kind of interesting to observe yourself do this...). 

Or perhaps I just do not care about being seen. I even did this with the door open and the possibility of men eyeing me, without a care in the world. 

***

It had been hot today, and I genuinely thought I was running a fever during the warmups. Even felt a little strange. But then I asked casually one of the girls if she was hot, and she did say it was hot.

The girl who has the same name as me, by the way. I should give her a name that doesn't sound like Hi'iaka or our actual name as to keep the anonymity going on, hehe. Plus she looks nothing like me. Hi'iaka II would just not fit. I'm thinking of a deity, perhaps. A celestial object. Or a plant. I'll see how I'll name her.

***

Why "the tattoo" as a title though? Because when we did the varu in pairs, like we did last time, I got paired with a girl I will refer to as Louise. She, along with the girl with the same name as me and two others, actually used to practice ori tahiti a couple years ago in an association, but the teacher stopped due to health issues. So now, they are basically refugees, lol. 

At first, it was her turn doing the varu. Hers is soooo satisfying to watch. You can tell she used to do it regularly. 

But then, when mine came, she told me something:

I love your tattoo, she said.

The Hopoe tattoo on my arm. The one that goes from my wrist to an elbow, going along the scars of my suicide attempt.

Was it done here or...?

In [city I used to live in], I replied. My tattoo artist did both my tatau on the right side. He's become my friend now. 

Oh. 

I can't really speak about this one tattoo, but it's very important to me.

Sure, no worries. 

And that was it.

But for someone to have noticed it... and said it was beautiful...

I wonder if she noticed the scars underneath. They're still darker than my skin. 

I only got it a month and a half ago and it feels like it has been here forever. 

I can't say the class was very eventful today but Louise appears to be a good person.  

They almost all park at the hospital, and when I drove out of it, I waved goodbye to the group. 

***

Upon coming back home, I saw that Hikianalia had posted a message in the Whatsapp group.

"A message to everyone:

I am very happy to have all of you as dancers at the dance school.

To those who've been here for a few years and to those who've just joined this circle of dancers, I wanted to tell you that since the start of the year, dancing, learning and sharing the classes together has really paid off, and you're all brilliant :)

Let’s keep being interested, discovering, learning and growing together.

Well done. 🙏🙏🙏

You're all wonderful.

Kisses, look all after yourselves."

Puppis: 😘

Gina (I think? There is Gina and there is someone with the same name but nobody has a profile picture that could help me tell which is which...): 

"These classes are beneficial for everyone, above all thanks to the energy you pass on to us. ❤️"

Someone else I haven't named yet:

"It's all thanks to you, Hikianalia. Thank you."

Argo:

So cute. Thank you 😘  

I grabbed a couple cookies to eat, some honey, and then replied:

"Hikianalia.

I'll say it with all my subtlety.

The reason we're progressing so quickly is because we have a very good teacher. ❤️

A teacher full of palpable compassion, who has a great sense of humour, and who knows how to put her students at ease. This is the best possible recipe for a group to make rapid and steady progress, and, above all, fearless progress.

You can be proud of yourself.

I thought I would say it later, but it seems the moment has come sooner than expected. 🌺"

Then, I went to take a shower.

I wondered whether I had lovebombed her or not. Literally any display of affection beyond a reaction, beyond a simple word, beyond something extremely flat or restrained, feels like I'm being too much.

Because on the inside, it's big. It's so big that I have to contain it, always. I always feel like if I showed the full palette of what's going on inside, I'd look like a crazy fucking person.

It always feels too close for comfort. Too intimate.

Just like when she's always positioned near me, and it does NOT matter where in the line I sit (because today I was not at my usual spot, though still in the first line), at times it feels... too close. It's close enough that sometimes I nearly accidentally touch her with my hand if we're doing gestures lmao, and I always do a little "whoop" when she's passing beside or behind me.

This might also be why I don't feel like going to her every time after class like I usually did. It's because I have nothing to say... and because she's putting herself fairly close to me anyway lol. I think in and of itself, I'm definitely not her least preferred student. 

Insane how... almost detached I am when I am feeling safe. I almost don't go up to you or find excuses to talk to you. And almost I would be the one to flee out of fear of accidentally showing too much.

***

I can tell I'm still vulnerable to flinching when surprised, too. She corrected my hips during varu a couple of times, and each time, I did a little "ah!" and jumped. 

I should be expecting it because well, dance teachers do that. But whoever touches me has me flinching if I'm not seeing it coming. When Argo touched my shoulders last time, I did flinch.

So I measure my words. I weigh them, put them here. 

It's a lot like poetry.

Four, including Despina and Carina, hearted my reply.

Someone else then said:

"Thank you for addressing us this message, Hikianalia, and thank you for your encouragements and your very kind look upon each and every of us at every class!!🥰
I had a lot of fun tonight, it was so good! I forgot about all the troubles of today.
You're a golden woman and teacher ❤️"

She almost went the extra mile compared to me, and yet if I said that last sentence, I'd feel like a manipulative piece of garbage. 

Because I used to say those things. I used to express how much I loved someone. I used to be so showy, and even if it was early, I thought it was okay. I thought that love had to be shown. 

And then, somewhere along the line, I learned this was "suspect", or "too much", or worse, "manipulative". It was not okay. It was proof that I was too intense, too attached, too much of whatever.

That it turned people off, scared them away, that it was a sign I was mentally unstable and that what I was expressing was tantamount to asking someone to marry me, move in, and conceive three kids in a row on the first date.

Not genuinely feeling an insane lot of things, and letting them explode in fireworks.

***

I have to talk about someone, though. Before I forget.

There is one woman. 50s, I think. Fat. Nice, but something about her irritates the living Jesus out of me. Not very pretty. She sweats so much she was wearing a neck fan. She's absolutely not subtle in her movements, but she may be a beginner. I should name her, by the way. Even if what I'll say isn't really... positive. 

I found myself silently judging her when we were practicing. Realizing I don't like the sight of her. That I want to be a Drill Sergeant Hartman to those kinds of people. I hate ungracefulness, I hate ugliness, I hate sweaty pigs, I hate anything that looks, feels or sounds mediocre, I oddly enough don't mind curves or some women who are fat, but as soon as it looks disharmonious to my eyes, it becomes something to criticize.

Hikianalia isn't thin. Yet she doesn't look disharmonious.

Hopoe was straight up fat. Yes, I thought it was muscle very early on, or that she was just thicc, but it turned out she was indeed overweight. Her arms are as large as someone who either has been obese or is obese. She probably weighed almost twice my weight (so about 45-50kg), give or take 10kg. But it didn't look bad. And it's Hopoe. If it's Hopoe... she could have half of her face ripped off, miss a leg, or be in a wheelchair and I'd still find her hot.

Juno isn't thin. Despina isn't thin. Vanuatuan girl I haven't named yet (who texts happy birthday to another member so dryly it low-key turned me off) isn't thin. The girl with the same name as me isn't thin. Many women in my group are actually overweight. 

I mean, Argo. She's very overweight, not my type at all, but something draws me to her still. 

Somehow there are people whose fatness I will love. Others... it will drive me up the wall so bad.

I don't know why.

I just... for obvious reasons, I will never voice it out loud. I can't anyway, I'd feel genuinely horrible after, plus Hikianalia would probably give me a slap on the wrist since it's forbidden to be judgemental towards others. 

I just wouldn't want to bully someone, but is she genuinely not someone I like, or is it that I see in her what I'm afraid of being?

Mediocre, unattractive, sweating like a pig and literally wearing a neck fan when all of us deal with the heat (that said, maybe she has hormonal issues... hence the heat sensitivity), not wearing a cropped top and a pareu and having leggings still.

I want to say, for God's sake, get a grip on yourself and work. God, what are you looking for. Fight. Be more than just someone who is unconfident. Move. Get around.

But I will not. I even hate that I'm... typing this. I genuinely hope I restrain it enough that she cannot feel it. The last thing I want is to be someone's bully.

Mediocre may be temporary. If she's a beginner, then it will ease. But dear Lord the lack of gracefulness.

Meanwhile I'm working so hard to get the movement right, I'm borderline underweight and can't seem to put on a whole lot of weight, I'm always moving, I'm always prancing around in class returning to my line, I am absolutely relentless in my pursuit of ori, losing my health for good is a massive fear of mine, I'm a borderline hypochondriac, I am stiffened up all the time, I sometimes take a while to fall asleep still because my body is wound-up, I need a hot water bottle, my warmable kitten if a microwave is available, or medication to actually wind down...

I think she might be vulnerable and an evil part of me, or perhaps my real evil nature, is latching onto it.

Vulnerability.

Maybe this is it. 

But how come I can absolutely love it in certain people and be incredibly contemptuous towards it in others?

Trips me up so bad.

Anyway. 

I just feel like it confirms that deep down I truly am a terrible person at the core.

***

It's weird, but when I type messages like the one I typed to Hikianalia, I feel exactly like... the anthem of Japan.

If you don't know, Kimigayo was actually a love poem from about a thousand years ago. It's a tanka, and it's apparently from a... 9th century anthology. Glory to the Emperor, but yeah, some say it was a love poem from Empress Genmei to a lover.

From. The. Ninth. Century.

Whoever wrote this had no idea it would stand the test of time to this degree. Be used as a song among the samurai, as a song of the people, as a New Year song...

"May your reign

Continue for a thousand, 

eight thousand generations,

Until the tiny pebbles

Grow into massive boulders

Lush with moss"

I love Japanese songs, poems and texts because it always feels like an abundance of feelings hidden behind a façade of reserve and almost restraint.

It says a few words to express a thousand feelings.

I mean, the whole "the moon is beautiful" thing to say "I love you" indirectly, because directness is too strong for them. 

Listen to the anthem and you'll understand what I'm talking about.

Play-Dough

 Hormones were wrecking me today. I'm talking nausea, cramping, but those are eased by anti-inflammatory medication.

Nevertheless, I wasn't feeling great for the first part of the class. Despina had arrived before me and was reading a book on a couch, wearing her headphones. Going to take a pee, I waved her hello, and she waved back with a smile. I think she probably appreciates that I leave her be. I wonder if everyone does that, but if I'm being honest, I can very much relate to wanting to be left to your business.

One other woman, who I will name Virginia (because she honestly has the look of someone who'd look nice in country attire, and her actual name is that of an US state, if we take the homonym!), came. I had a small talk about said hormones, but she says we are warriors. Nice lady. She has beautiful silver hair.

When the class started, there were only Despina, Virginia, and a couple of others, but the rest came soon. Still we were nowhere near as much as we were last Tuesday. It was actually possible to breathe in this damn room. 

One of the women I have mentioned in this entry but had not named, I think I can name her now. I will introduce her as Gina. It could easily be a diminutive of Regina. She's also in her first year of ori, and Hikianalia reassured her about how she will get better with time after the class. I did, too. I felt like giving her a little boost. I don't know why but even as people have already been dealt with or comforted, I feel like adding a word, myself. 

***

I will say it again but there are... in fact, more than one cute girl.

The one I saw the very first time, who is a friend of Despina, I haven't seen her since. But there is one I think is Vanuatuan, or part-Vanuatuan (source: a shirt she was wearing on one of Hikianalia's past year reels, which says "I ♥ Vanuatu", honestly a Melanesian-looking girl with such a shirt probably is related to the place), who I strangely can never quite get my eyes off. She's a bit taller than me, very massive, no tattoos and looks fairly young, but I have never spoken to her. That said I always, ALWAYS catch myself looking at her and I just damn hope she doesn't find me creepy. I will not name her yet, but I guess that eventually we will speak. 

And one I actually danced with, and did an exercise where we had to hold hands, but that's for later in this article. I seem to have a thing for chubby girls since Hopoe because yeah... she's also chubby big time. But white, and shorter than me. I will name her Juno. I don't know why this is the first name that popped out when I thought of naming her. Juno is the Roman equivalent of Hera and she obviously isn't related to the Hera we know in this blog... but who knows what my subconscious is getting at, anyway.

I always joke that I'm a female Brock but that's kind of true. I can't help but have loads of little crushes on lovely women. Few actually turn into me getting invested and in love, and Hopoe kind of has thrown a wrench into that, but yeah... 

***

I wasn't feeling all too well during the first part of the class, as I said. The warmup was fine... ish... then we started repeating our long-trained steps. Ta'iri, ta'iri ha'ape'epe'e, tamau... and I was just not feeling great, but I tapped Juno's shoulder to tell Hikianalia that if she asked, I'm peeing.

I didn't throw up. I actually think that it helped me feel better because the stress was also rising. I did pee, and poop, and someone else had left their poop in and I was a little mad about it. When I washed my hands, I put some cold water on my neck and cheeks, and then went back to dance.

Weird thing: I don't know if I was truly that nauseous. Why? Because even with this fear of throwing up mid-class, I still had the mojo to prance around while returning to my line lmfao. 

We learned two steps. Amaha and varu. It should be noted that amaha is one of the steps that I retained from Lehuakona's workshop back in February, and the varu is my favourite ori tahiti step. 

After practicing amaha, which is simpler than it looks but also complicated when you don't have the hang of it, I felt... joyful.

I laughed.

I didn't know what to do with that joy. And even as I'm typing this, it feels like it's a whole different person who danced in this room a couple of hours ago.

***

Important note about Hikianalia: introducing us to the varu, she revealed she's fucking into Play-Dough. Like she loves to sniff it, manipulate it, do all kinds of stuff with it lol. I do hope her sons like it too because that would mean she's have triple the fun (herself and her two kiddos) lol. But that's something to keep in mind. If by any chance we offer something to Hikianalia, perhaps some Play-Dough should be part of the gifts ;)

But I have a prose text in mind. In which I would actually portray her as the star/canoe Hikianalia. Juuust have to find out when her birthday is... but I'm pretty sure we might all do a collective gift for when her baby is born.

If nobody proposes the idea by the time December-January comes by, since baby is due for February, I certainly will. 

***

It's during the varu exercise I held Juno's hands.

Hikianalia paired us together. Little funny moment that may or may not say something about me: she called my name and I immediately said "me or the other one?" since another girl in the group (who wasn't here today) has the same name as me. I'm always fucking first in line, always right next to Hikianalia when she's warming us up (and I can't escape it lol, I always end up next to her), but anyway, I went with Juno. 

I basically acted as a pillar while Juno held my hands for balance, doing the varu. I was looking at her hips, her belly, and her eyes. I wasn't really scared to watch her face contort and look in all places as she was trying to get her rhythm going. Her hands were clammy, but everyone's were: it was hot af in here and she was sweating bullets. 

Then I was the one who had to do it. I had done varu before, but in a different way than Hikianalia taught me. Hikianalia went from behind and guided my hips. 

Okay. Let yourself be handled.

Uh oh, I'm a little ticklish, I laughed.

I did the movement, but Hikianalia kept her hands on them. I would be lying if I said that I was a little tense still. I thought that she would make me move for a while, so when I started moving of my own accord, she said:

Yeah, continue!

And she was happy. She always tells me "good, Hi'iaka!" during the class. She does observe everyone, as a teacher does, but I often feel that I'm one of the students she has an affinity with. I wouldn't go as far as to say I'm a teacher's pet just yet, but there is that little something. 

I wasn't supposed to slightly lift my heels yet, but my body did it right away.

Okay, I'm sorry, but my feet are lifting...

She smiled and told me to keep at it. 

Juno, unlike me, doesn't seem very comfortable just watching. It felt like she was... shy about eye contact while I was doing my varu? Maybe it's the vulnerability. The proximity. But she's noticeably less confident about this, I feel. 

But when stuff was over, Juno said:

Damn, you're so stiff! You're so on edge...

She was talking about my hands. I was apparently holding them super tight and I had no idea.

Yeah, I know, I replied. I can't... not be on edge, really.

She got it and didn't ask further.

Two people saying this to me in a week, yeah. Argo and Juno. I guess me having the nervous system of someone who's been through a war zone is quite visible. I don't even have to say a word about being traumatized as shit to have people say that I should relax or that I am stiff or that I am on edge.

Because they're right.

I can't blame them, really. In fact, I'm very glad that they notice. So few people in my life care enough to notice my distress.

By the way, when I came back from the toilet, another lady who I want to name but have no idea what name to give her yet (but I think this is really close, she wears frangipani in her hair all the time but I don't want to name her Plumeria, that'd be too easy), said that she thought we had lost me.

***

You know why I'm... feeling detached? 

It's because it's foreign to me. 

I said it, and I will say it again: I feel like the person who danced just a couple of hours ago is... not me. Even if objectively it IS me. It just feels like lightyears away from how I see myself.

Liked by her classmates, noticed when she's gone, liked by the teacher herself hella, and not some kind of liability? Or someone whose presence you enjoy, but it's not any deeper than that? Like, if something happened to her, you'd still happily live your life not caring much about her?

I mean, this afternoon I sent a picture of my pareus on the Whatsapp group and said that half of the fun was to select which one to wear, which makeup to do... and six people, SIX of them, reacted to it, and they all loved it.

I was floored. I expected silence. Generally in communities when I'd post shit like that, I'd get inconsistent replies. Crickets at worst, or someone just moving on after a few hours not even acknowledging my post, or at best, one or two people unless I threw a truly fun one-liner or whatever.

But people who actually like me? My stuff? Having me around? Me being a joyful, appreciated person?

Yeah. Not me. That's a different Hi'iaka. This is someone wearing the skin of Hi'iaka.

Except it is. It's absolutely nobody impersonating Hi'iaka, nope, it's indeed Hi'iaka, smells like Hi'iaka, moves like Hi'iaka, speaks like Hi'iaka, and if you did genetic testing, you'd have the ultimate proof THAT IT IS HI'IAKA.

And it's fucking weird.

...

Anyway.

***

We did not do the final workout, because there wasn't enough time remaining, but I remained back with the others and I spoke my little words to Gina. I spoke to a couple others who remained behind, including Juno, and then off I went with Gina outside.

Now my stomach still feels weird but I suspect my NSAID is to blame. I've been having at least one a day for a few days. I do hope that my period comes by Thursday because coming to class nauseous is hella annoying. Not that Hikianalia would shit me for it if I had to puke, I guess... but emetophobic Hi'iaka be emetophobic Hi'iaka.

***

Why is it that I dissociate after ori? 

Why is it that I know myself to be so happy there, and the minute I'm driving back home, I feel like this was just a dream or that it was another personality of mine taking the wheel?

Like, I don't have DID, obviously, or at least I don't think so. But dear Lord...

Is it truly ori anyway? Or is it just... that I feel completely cut off from myself when I've been joyful in any way, because it's so completely ego-dystonic for me that I just cannot reconcile the two realities? 

I'm soooo fucked in the head.

Dual identities

How I accidentally found out Hopoe has a dual identity as well (and how I did not intend to actually find what I found lol):

The Heiva i Paris was going on this weekend, and I got curious to see if Hopoe ever participated in it, given that she's been in service for about fifteen years, so likely left for the Hexagon around that time. After all, knowing how she likes to partake in tamure marathons and has won at least two, I wondered if by any chance she had ever participated in a Heiva of sorts.

So I type her name. I find nothing.

But then I remember her actual first name is French, and she probably wouldn't compete under this name. She'd probably compete under her second, which is Tahitian. 

So I type out her Tahitian name alongside her last name. I find an Instagram handle that is obviously hers but points to a 404. I figure that her account has existed for a long time but due to her connections here, she changed it. Or for whatever else reason really.

Given that she's out of contact with her father AFAIK, I try typing out her mother's last name, which is Chinese, and her Tahitian first name.

Of course, there is the possibility that there are several with her name combination... but I end up on a Soundcloud page. 

Oh, Hopoe? You makin' music?

Nope. Sadly. I would've loved to hear that though. All playlists. 10-11 year old playlists lol. And the best thing is that she only listens to Tahitian music, her words, but there's hardly anything Tahitian in it, and it looks like a teenage girl's playlist. 

Also, she has thirteen followers (including a woman I literally saw popping into my feed this morning... I saw the name and went "what the fuck"), but follows only two people who don't follow her back.

...Hopoe. C'mon.

Notably her profile pic and the picture of the most recent one is a quote aesthetic thing of the 2010s.

"Don't play with others, the wheel turns, today you're playing, tomorrow you'll be played"...

...cringe, but. Sweet. 

The playlist has one title. Ellie Goulding's cover of Take me to Church.

(Ellie didn't change the pronouns by the way haha, I low-key expected her to change them... but good Lord Hopoe you were actually listening to a lesbian cover. And putting it in a fucking playlist that appears to express something directed to someone lmao.)

This version of Hopoe, honestly, that's closer to the one I knew.

The other playlist has some okay tracks, some I know (The Climb by Miley Cyrus), one that is about fucking pakalolo (weed), one that is really sweet and about... heartbreak, and... echoes quite a bit what I'm going through (Kina Grannis - Stay just a little).

Yeah, it does sound like some Tumblr schoolgirl's playlist... but it also sounds like she had her heart broken around that time.

I wonder if it was a girl. Because it's not girls singing most of the time, it's boys singing about girls. 

Or perhaps it wasn't romantic, you know, might've been a friendship ending, but Hopoe of 2015-16... she didn't look very okay, and even if she later said she "doesn't like girls", if there was indeed something going on with a woman at that time that she may or may not have registered as romantic, it would entirely make sense that things with me turned out the way they did.

I can't imagine those playlists are about a man...

Pardon me, Hopoe, but I'm going to save a few. You won't know anyway. I just want you to know... the timing is a little curious.

But if I had met your 28-29 year old self... what could've been?

You were barely older than me at the time...

***

Then I see a Facebook link into the group I was banned from without a proper reason last year. It's a "welcome to the 300 new members" type of post. And I see this name. 

I quite literally never figured out why I even got banned AND blocked from this group at all. It's about Polynesia and it's, in fact, the biggest Polynesia-related group on the platform, so I have made an alt account to check it when there's info I want to know. I posted a few times in it on my main account, and then later on I realized I had been banned and blocked from it. I still cannot figure out why since I don't think I broke any rules. I suspected Hopoe of course, but at the time, the harassment claim wasn't there. It was back in December 2025. I don't think she was the culprit. There was drama on the group at some point and I just said in a post that this wasn't exactly a mature way to handle things, and this might've been it. 

I tried contacting an admin, no luck. I will never know why they decided to literally bar me from it. 

But anyway. I see that profile. I log onto my alt, find it and...

OKAY I'M OUT OF HERE LOL THIS IS HOPOE.

Logged out of my acc. This is the Rubicon and I'm not crossing it.

So she literally used to use this name as her identity online, but for some reason changed it during the years she spent here. I wonder why.

Was it for convenience so people could find her, was it because here she's pretty much forced to use her French first name + legal last name from her father in work (if I had not found info last year during the golden age, I would have no idea about this name), or was it because she had something to hide? Or someone to hide from?

I just know that her profile pic has gone from the stupid unicorns to a landscape of Raiatea since a couple days after the block. Still hiding. 

***

....This is how you just... accidentally make yet another investigation. 

It seems I can never quite escape my bloodhound tendencies even when it's just about the fucking Heiva lol.

It's both a shame and a blessing... 

because the Heiva is clear now.

:^) 

Two conflicting realities

Where did that go.

Hopoe, where did you go.

I remember that the day you went to attack me, when you told me I was complaining, for some reason my eyes got locked on one of your collarbone tattoos.

I had noticed it back on the day we met.

That day I wish I could come back to and restart, making different choices so you don't turn on me, and I get to keep you. 

I don't know why my eyes just focused on that. Just like I don't know why, the day I went to confront you in November, I zeroed in on the upright rugby ball, and the... Lorraine? Or Papal cross? And the last time I came to your office to speak to Austral, you weren't here, but a lot of the stuff you had was gone. Stitch and Angel figures on your cupboard. 

Your treillis jacket on your chair.

Where did you go.

Hopoe.

Where. Did. You. Go.

***

That day I said how much I loved your accent, drunkenly, trying to compose myself because I was already going haywire about you inside but didn't know if you were available or even if you were too old for me, so I held myself back.

That day where you accused me of complaining. And I broke down.

I can't make sense of this.

It feels so unreal, like, how did this even... get there?

In June 2025 I was meeting you for the first time. I don't recall the exact day. Might've been June 12, because on June 11 there was that phone call where I had to force the breakup out of my ex. But it might've been 13 because I think it was on a Friday? 

That day when you were the first to come and see me at the office, much to my surprise, and you whispered.

The charge in the air, Hopoe.

A year later, I have been broken beyond recognition. And I don't know about you, but you're not the same anymore, and I'm sure it doesn't all have to do with me.

You turned into something unrecognizable the minute you chose holding onto whatever resentment you had instead of releasing whatever was bothering you, or maybe talking about it like you preached dialogue. 

You're still utterly unrecognizable to me and I feel the Hopoe that has blocked me almost a month ago is... not you. It's another Hopoe. 

I say that I have been broken beyond recognition, but I guess some parts might've survived, because I don't inherently feel like a different Hi'iaka. I just feel like one that has been broken further than she already was. A broken vase someone kicked and broke absolutely worse. 

Possibly completely beyond repair at this point.

But you? Where are you? Where have you gone? Where has all of this gone?

What is up with you? What has taken your place?

***

I can't make sense of this reality. I don't even know anymore. I don't know how things can fracture just like that.

"I don't like girls", you said, that day.

But Hopoe. I didn't ask you whether you "like girls". This isn't the point. This is entirely besides it.

That doesn't explain what we had, Hopoe. It's obvious this isn't the real cause. You would've put a stop way before. You would've never remained around me for weeks. 

The women you pretend to be like,

they don't do what you did

they actually remain calm about it,

and don't explode at you.

Why have you never spoken?

You've never told me what was on your heart.

"Tell me what's on your heart", I said.

It remains locked, and I don't know if I'm the only one it is locked for, but I think that perhaps it is locked for everyone.

They just don't see it because they don't look past the surface.

They see the Hopoe everyone sees. 

But they don't dig. 

I have this silly habit of getting interested in people, silly me, you know. 

Especially if I like them. Just so I don't like a false image of them.

Just so I know their least desirable qualities and still choose to say "yes" because all of the other things are worth putting up with.

***

That day in June, where did it go.

The smile that changes your face, where is it.

Your voice. Silent the whole time. You're so expressive in your voice

you were shutting it down around me, all silent

cutting off exactly what made you, you

You're a speaker, a teller of things

but you distort it with lectures and superiority

you orate, you don't communicate

you're just making a whole lot of noise without saying a thing

to say a thing would be to admit what's inside of you

what scares you to the point

you would rather kill the one who actually tries to get you

to speak

to unload this heart of yours

I'm not your enemy, Hopoe.

I just

Please speak.

Please stop killing yourself with all of this silence

Please stop destroying yourself by hiding who you are

to everyone

not just to me

Please lighten up again, light, light, light, TURN ON THE LIGHT

You're dying

I can't save you

HOPOE TURN ON THE LIGHT...

I'm not talking about doing it for me... but for God's sake please wake up

stop deluding yourself with status, with promotions, with career

please come home.

Please come home Hopoe

release the stones

and come home, come home,

come home

I don't need to say those three words

just...

you still have a chance. At turning things around.

please take it.

please.

"Je suis sûre que ça a duré deux minutes et demi en vrai.
Mais mon bras, il a l'impression que ça a duré une éternité.
Je m'étais dit que s'il avait ce qu'il voulait on en parlerait plus
mais trente ans plus tard,
j'en parle encore."

I'd suffer?

 My mom doesn't see me as someone who would do well having a child.

She says I would suffer. That it would constrain me too much.

Now either she doesn't see me or she is right, both of which mean that I'm fundamentally unfit for something as natural as passing on my genes and nurturing a little being and diluting the shitty genes of my pool.

Because yeah. I am tied between this need to nurture, in me, and this idea that I do want children purely out of biology. I feel that my genes might be worth passing on. And you know. I may have a terrible father, but to stop the bloodline here would mean that I've given up on clearing out his influence.

The way to stop a cycle is not to cease reproducing, but to instead dilute it by having your children do something different.

That said, I'm crushed by this feeling that.. she doesn't see me in the role of a mother.

Maybe I'm an eternal daughter after all.

Never to be a real woman, ever.

Whatsapp group

Hikianalia created it just now. Got all the gals here. I hope that we'll have nice conversations. 

We actually did some hula as an exercise today and I'm always thrilled when Hawaiian dancing is on the table. Because I get to incarnate my nickname.  ;)

I haven't identified myself as such in the group. My Whatsapp has my real name, because... well, honestly, Hi'iaka is an identity I want to reveal to few people. I wouldn't want literally everyone that has my number to know that I go by this name online, even if I guess there aren't that many internet sleuths of my sort out there. I'm just your particularly curious brand of girl... 

I sweated like crazy, but I still... I don't know. If I'm not dead exhausted to the point of nausea, I feel that I need to do more. Except, of course, one hour of dancing and especially with the cardio part which was hard asf (alternating between your regular tamau and tamau ha'ape'epe'e, with breaks of a few seconds yes, but then Hikianalia would go "HEY!" another time and here we go for another round, baby!), that's probably harder on my system than I realize. My thighs are mildly sore but I probably am going to feel it tomorrow morning.

It was very hard to keep at it, but if I want to do tamure marathons and win at least one, I need to know what the hell I'm doing and I especially need a lot of endurance. I even consider practicing this at home but honestly... isn't two hours a week already good enough? I'm tied between this irrepressible urge to dance, to do more, to reach for the stars and to push my body to such a point that it breaks its own limits and soars, and the knowing that no, I'm not unbreakable, and that perhaps too much practice would be counterproductive and even burn me out, and don't get me started on potential injuries, too.

Before the class, Despina and I were the first ones to come. I learned that she, too, had a period of not being in school. I dropped out in my last year of high school, though I did get my degree, and she apparently dropped out earlier due to school phobia and burnout, and an ex-boyfriend who gave her death threats (little fucker). She's currently going through training to be able to resume her studies. I wish I could be like that, resuming studies, getting a degree... but save if I really can't do otherwise, I've been burned so badly by academics that I absolutely refuse to go back there.

For fucking real I was there for ten years, school is compulsory from age 6 to 16 (and a few years ago... the age was brought down to THREE. Like all three-year-old kids are mature enough to go to school?? Some still shit their nappies!)... there's no way I'm sitting for more torture to in addition not ever know whether the teacher will choose to fuck me over or not, or if I'm going to be a disappointment like I've always been. 

But Despina probably has her own goals with that. Sigh. May she succeed at it.

I also learned that she tolerates spices to the point of being able to literally eat chilli peppers. I can't tolerate them without shitting my guts out. Me and another girl, who I will name Kore, don't exactly tolerate those well lol.

(Kore is cute by the way, she's about my height and kind of chubby, pale skin, dark hair and dark eyes, and is listed as single on FB, and is two years older than me. Yes, I've looked. Yes, I'm curious. But no, this is not the cute girl I had seen on the first day. That cute girl, btw, is a friend of Despina's. Small world.

Plus. I've looked. Kore is basically Persephone. Lady of the Underworld. If this is another signal from my subconscious, perhaps I should stay the F away because there's no way I'm letting something poison my own dance class.)

Anyway. I wanted to write a little blog post before watching my episode of Twin Peaks. Those are 45min long, it won't be as huge as the pilot which is twice that amount. 

G'night.

Heyyy Manu!

 Surprise of the day, Manu accepted my friend request on the 'book. I had found her profile and hesitated for a long while to send a friend request. It honestly takes me so much to do it because I feel I'm intruding into people's spaces. 

Manu's profile, in addition, is locked, just like that of her husband. 

It had been so long that I thought she had forgotten about me, plus my profile picture wasn't exactly showing my face at the time. I could not show my face when I was in the thick of what happened with my Hopoe. It was terrible

Went out for grocery shopping, and when I came back... hey Manu! Accepted into the friend circle, yeehee. 

Maybe people's thresholds to "friends" or at least "good enough acquaintances that I can allow you to have a window into my life" is not that high. But still, I have this weird as shit reserve to make the first move. I can't imagine people remember me. I can't imagine that I am any significant, even in a small and acquaintancely way, in people's minds once I exit the room.

The other fun thing is that Manu and I were born nearly exactly three years apart. Her birthday is two days after mine, hehe. Between Capella born the day after me and Manu on the day after Capella... it seems I have a knack for attracting fellow late-November Sagittarians like me. 

Perhaps I should map my connections a little more, then. Perhaps ask Lehuakona... Nalani, I'm not sure, but Lehuakona, why not? Vaima, the nice shopkeeper at the festival, doesn't appear to have a FB profile properly speaking, but the festival organizer, who gifted me a little something after the tamure marathon, might be fair game.

I'm still goddamn shy about fucking social media. It shouldn't be that serious, right. But I really am hugely hung-up on this shit for reasons that are not that legitimate. Hell I'm still shy about adding Hikianalia and yet she's got a few of my fellow students in her Facebook friends.

Maybe... maybe in a month or two, for her, mhh. Better this way. 

Anyway Manu. Welcome back into my name directory of this period, since you've manifested yourself. I have no idea if I'll come across you again at a festival, though I'd love to re-attend this one next year. But if you pass by the south with the husband and the tot (and the one you're expecting!), feel totally free to catch up!

Twin Peaks

 I torrented all three seasons. Watched the pilot. I had been meaning to watch it for a while at this point but always got hung up on how long the pilot is. One hour and a half is a lot to sit through.

I did it, though. Took some few-minutes breaks to check on the downloads or just think of something else, but I made it through, and I honestly like it. It's slow paced asf, but it has that thing that leads me wanting more despite the story advancing really slow.

They don't make series like that anymore. I'm not huge on TV shows usually, save for a few favourites. ER, South Park, House MD, The Saddle Club which I loved as a kid, Poirot which came from my mother, BoJack Horseman which is pretty much the only Netflix series I enjoyed at all, alongside a few cartoons from my childhood, but also others that I discovered as an adult like Horrid Henry (btw, loving this one).

But for some reason... idk. Felt like watching Twin Peaks, had it in my mind for a long while, and when you start dreaming of it at night, that's pretty much your cue that you should totally do it because it's a real wish of yours lol. Found a French subreddit for piracy because I ain't fucking paying a subscription, fuck this shit, so I just torrented the whole three seasons and if I can try and find my CD/DVD player, or at least find a new one as my laptop isn't equipped with one, perhaps burn it all on DVDs like in the olden times.

Maybe I should also torrent Columbo for my mom. She used to have all episodes and for some reason they ALL disappeared. She must've deleted them accidentally or something. Or perhaps something with her hard drive. But I'm thinking of getting them back for her so she can have them regardless if there is any Internet at home or not. Thought of buying her the DVDs, but we don't have a player. We don't even have a TV. She has a HDMI projector.

For a while I also watched Orange is the New Black, in my late teens I reckon, but stopped around Season 3 for a reason I don't remember. Outside of the lesbian stuff I didn't find it all that interesting though. Poussey's flashback episode however, keeping this one like a treasure because I damn love the scenes with her German ex. 

Maybe it's not much that I don't like TV series, but that I don't like the TV series of today. I mean, I'm not a binge watcher. I like listening to episodes as I do stuff. But for watching, I just like to watch a couple episodes, or if they're really long, perhaps one a day. And to be fair, a lot of Netflix stuff feels... like it's all the same. It looks, sounds, feels the same. It's formulaic. Zero personality to it. Really BoJack is an outlier for me, but again, it's animated. And now I got it in my hard drive, all seasons, so I got no further reason to use the 'flix.

If you want to do Netflix and chill with me... nah. Just tell me you wanna have sex on the couch, and I'll play an old TV show, and then we can have sex. Or eat ice cream. Or actually watch. Or all of the above.

***

My father was hell of a Netflix watcher. Always said he didn't have time for this or that, including walking Jap on evenings, but you're not going to fool me by saying that he didn't have time: between 8pm and 11pm, if you're not lazing around on the couch watching slop like he was, you have PLENTY of time for at least a walk around the block with your dog that you claim to love.

Like for fuck's sake I remember that time he had the brilliant idea to displace the rain collector UNDER MY WINDOW when it was 11pm and I was working the next day and I was sleeping awfully at the time. 

"But I had no time to do it beforehand!"

You're not fooling me, fuckhead. What were you up to for two hours after my sisters went to sleep? Watching Netflix, of course. Your dumb fucking shows that have one sex scene every twenty minutes.

Last time I checked he was watching Bridgerton with my stepmom. 

"You know Bridgerton? You should watch it, it's really good".

No. 

It sucks ass. It's all the same pointless melodrama with the same sucky characters doing the same sucky romance shit in the same unrealistic Victorian setting that feeds the fantasies of the girls who thought those times, although beautiful in the noble classes, were not utterly awful for the little everyday people. 

It has no substance. It's all for looks. It's all for distraction. Nothing of value to extract from it except "congratulations, you just wasted forty-five minutes or whatever length the episodes are".

And somehow everyone was hyped up about it. Now not every popular show is trash, but Bridgerton and at large Netflix slop is fucking trash.

There's a massive difference between ER, Lost, House MD, Poirot, even Friends or Sex and the City which aren't even my thing ffs, and the likes, and the whole Bridgerton, Game of Thrones, Lovesick, The Gentleman, The Good Doctor... 

***

Also... he'd always justify buying food on sale and stuff by saying he "can't afford better".

Dude has two motorcycles. TWO. One car that costs 30k and that he bought himself a few years ago. He has Disney+, Netflix, Amazon Prime, Prime Video, Spotify, whatever else, he's full of subscriptions, always has the latest or at least a recent iPhone, a big TV, always has wine at home thanks stepmom (because at the time he was still in the picture, he would've never brought wine here... he morphs on whatever woman he's with or interested in and while he seems to carry fragments of them which is normal, there is just zero personality to him, my mom doesn't recognize what he's become). 

And then he buys his daughter cheap chicken. Cheap shit. Gives his two youngest expired yoghurt because "it can be eaten after the expiration date". Acts like a scrooge with gifts. I will never, ever forget that gift that was either for one of my sisters or for my sister's friend... and that he did not take the "20 percent off" tag off it. I remember how furious I was at this.

Anyway. Enough ranting about this poor excuse of a man. It's just that now he's making Netflix even worse for me. 

Netflix documentaries are okay for the most part, but yeah. I do prefer... normal documentaries. I would watch Catfish, or emergency-related stuff whether it was about the firefighters, EMTs, or police. Every now and then something historical. But certainly not some uniformized Netflix slop. 

***

It does feel strange though to watch stuff like Twin Peaks when you've been used to... more fast-paced things because well. You didn't grow up in the late 80s to 90s. But once you're into it, all good. 

Mehura

It was hot as fucking shit in the room. We're back to the small one. Sadly the big one is not ours, as the original dance school (to whom the studio belongs) has its classes in it. Still I do hope we get to go back there in a while because we were about thirty in the tiny ass room and I can't prance around going back to my line when I've reached the mirror lol.

Waiting for the others to arrive, I was sitting with Despina and another woman I will call Muriel, one of the older students. It sounds like the registrations are going on for the other dance group. Plenty of teen girls, a desk, and a lot of parents. Meanwhile, we thought that we'd be only three at the 'ori class today.

That was until the others all came at once right before Hikianalia was to open the door, lol. Turns out they all parked around the same place and they were staying outside. 

The Argo girls were here, but they were staying among themselves, so I didn't really go and disturb them. 

***

The steps we have been practicing for a couple of weeks now, I'm starting to master them. The fucking ta'iri. I could actually do it without thinking much, all the while I thought the damn thing was not registering. Turns out that perhaps the fact I have a four-day period between the Thursday class and the Tuesday class (Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday) helps the brain integrate. But I was surprised at myself, honestly. I am progressing faster than I thought I would. 

If I can keep this up, who knows what kind of summits I might reach in a year of practice or two. The Heiva laureate that I danced with back at the festival said that in two years of practice, I can get a solid base. And if this advice is from a goddamn Heiva laureate, I'm gonna take it a hundred percent.

Since there were quite a few new people as registrations stop at the end of the month (because otherwise... we're gonna run out of space, we already are very tight here in the small room), Hikianalia re-introduced herself.

It turns out she has danced in troupes and stuff, has done contests, but never won one. That said, she doesn't think it's a bad thing. She's not the competitive kind. I wonder, though, if I could find her former groups on the web. 

Lehuakona is part of a seven-dancer troupe that is going to dance at the Heiva i Paris and I better watch their performance. Cheer her on. I don't fail my first teacher, ever.

***

I found out that Hikianalia loves mehura more than other dances, and that we are going to practice quite a few of them. 

You want to know why I find this funny?

Well, mehura isn't exactly often talked about... but it's the Tahitian hula. 

The fucking. Tahitian. Hula.

FOR HI'IAKA. 

Hi'iaka does the mehura from Tahiti and was in fact conceived in Tahiti and brought to Hawai'i in an egg by Pele.

What do you mean life is synchronistic as shit? 

***

But also, well. I think that my stress is visible, even as I don't realize it.

Just before we were going to start practicing the steps, I started counting everyone. Four columns, five or six people per line... and right behind me was Argo, who put her hands on my shoulders and said:

"Dooooon't stress out! Unclench those shoulders!"

I laughed.

"But I am nooot. I may look stressed but I am nooot", I replied playfully.

...That said. I wonder if she was right. I keep my hands on my hips all the time, almost holding my waist. Got this habit from the times I would be prone to feeling dizzy or off-balance even though it didn't feel like my inner ear was to blame. Rather, I felt as if my body was too light, or sort of absent...

My shoulders are so tight and rock-hard all the time, though a bit less now, that I am probably still hella wound-up and don't realize it. 

Argo did.

I don't blame her for that, but this got me thinking. How stressed do I look? Do I look like the girl who is hella into action, or is my façade of self-assurance an obvious one? Because I do feel fired up on the inside. I do feel... energized. And I let nothing come out. 

Hell at the end Hikianalia asked if we had any questions. I feel so stupid asking questions in front of others that I waited til the end of the class to ask her... and others, who were waiting to speak to her, told me I could do it.

Oh god. Embarrassment. 

Every time I ask a question, or speak, I feel like I'm drawing attention to myself. It doesn't help that I'm the one to comment, crack a joke here and there all the while others are staying silent, or point out when there's something going on.

Like for example, I was the one to see most of us were in the right portion of the room rather than evenly spaced out, when Hikianalia was trying to figure a way to have proper lines. Nobody else spoke about it.

I can't help myself. I have to talk, make comments, point out things.

But asking a question makes me so uneasy unless I'm in private with her, or any other teacher really.

But at the same time I feel like a damn weirdo for always talking to her for a bit after class. Even if it's just one sentence. Are the others going to think I've got a crush on her or something (which... even if it were the case, I ain't doing that to her husband and kids), or that I'm trying to get into her good graces? That I'm a manipulative piece of garbage? Could she find me weird? I've been vulnerable enough last time. I ain't doing this anymore until a while so I don't look too weird. 

I can't wait until we get the group chat on Whatsapp to be fair, I could just drop a message like something I wish I could say to someone, whether Hikianalia or a group member, though moreso a group member, because I'm too afraid of being overly in Hikianalia's face... 

...which is that, while I was driving home on the departmental road between my town and the city, there was a magnificent crescent moon rising. Mihi au ia oe was playing as I was driving carefully as not to accidentally hit a deer or a fox if any were to cross, but... that crescent moon in the dark skies, holy shit.

Just like the first time I came back from Hikianalia's class, at the open doors back in late August, there was a just as magnificent full moon. 

Sharing a vision. A thought. Something I can write about.

Ask someone, later on, if they know anyone who likes to read and would be willing to take a look at my novel draft.

I communicate better like this. When I'm not forced to go up to people and find a reason to make small talk. I like dropping a thought here and there, without much context. I like to share. I'm just too damn terrified to actually do it unless I am hidden in some way. 

Anyway... yaaawn. I always sleep better after ori.