she who gets what she desires
I rise with the sun: I don’t remember my dreams from last night. I don’t have an answer for any way I am other than it’s exactly honest. I cannot actually change or temper the intensity of myself. I don’t know if I would have an interest in doing so even if I could. It is tiring — it is alienating — it relegates me to the status of difficult I find convenience repulsive. The allure others find in what is easy disgusts me. I don’t know why. I don’t know if its because it requires no sacrifice, no discomfort, no suffering. What is the point if you have no stake? Real stake, I mean. I am posing for a painting and we were listening to the met opera. It was Mozart’s 268th birthday but they were performing Carmen. I went to the bathroom during the donuement and José is singing woundedly but unmistakably in love — he doesn’t want to leave Carmen and the duty he has in life, in the army, isn’t meant to act as priority over her. But it does. I came out of the bathroom and the painter says: I turned the volume up for you so you could hear his aria while you were peeing. It’s beautiful you can hear his love This is what I value even if it seems irrelevant or microscopic or silly: Consideration It suggests that I live somewhere and in some capacity in someone else’s mind And that they want me to experience some sliver of beauty that they value themself Without an ulterior motive: it’s simply sharing I am the only child my mother named herself. She told me that a family friend got married while she was growing up and he brought his wife by their house. She said this woman was so gorgeous and her name was Naila. She noted it and kept it close for over a decade until I was born and gave it to me. I was in Cairo, Egypt on the train and the rush hour started lifting so I sat down across from a young woman. She told me I was extremely beautiful and asked where I was from. I replied and she asked for my name. She said: Your name is beautiful, I’m going to keep it for my future daughter I had trouble finding a full translation of my name. It’s associated with Uthman’s wife. It’s associated with strong will, with acquisition, attainment. But I never could find a direct translation that was satisfying. Once, years ago, I was visiting a friend in Chicago. She was fixing her hair in the mirror and she said: Oh, I remember how we use your name. It’s for desire: She who gets what she desires