Unlocking the Secrets of a Soulful Novel: A Behind-the-Scenes Look, between Passion and Asexuality
Picture this: a year of heart-stirring events and emotions that swept you off your feet, consuming every waking moment.
A year where you devoured books and penned down your thoughts with a fiery passion, unearthing a newfound love for the written word.
A Force of Nature
The year ended on a somber note with the loss of Dan’s dear friend, a guiding voice in my life. An enigmatic figure who cast a spell over my deepest thoughts. Looking back, I can see how that year sculpted me into the person I am today, and its memories still hold me in a trance of bewilderment and fascination.
At that time, a seismic shift seemed to shake the world. It wasn’t just the relentless rain, although it did pour down like there was no tomorrow.
But something more profound was at play.
As the world turned monochrome and the rain filled the void, it stirred something within me. It was as if the rain had unearthed a part of my mind previously unknown. Suddenly, I found myself thrust to the surface, much like a rough diamond caught in a current. The rain had transformed into something far greater than just weather — it had become a force of nature, and I was at its mercy.
Electrifying encounter
One December evening, as I lounged on my couch, I felt an inexplicable, entrancing energy encircle me. My wild, blonde curls tangled as a feisty Burmese cat playfully nuzzled against my face. Despite my attempts to resist, his captivating energy overpowered me, and I found myself succumbing to his feline charm. This electrifying encounter sent shivers down my spine, creating a memory that would forever be etched in my mind.
In the dimly lit sanctuary of my room, I gave in to the hypnotic pull of the music wafting from my speakers.
The enchanting melodies of Led Zeppelin seamlessly transitioned into the bewitching beats of Deep Purple. Amidst the ethereal harmonies, I could hear the faint cries of my feline companion. This ever-hungry creature was prowling through the shadows, perhaps lured by the magic of the music. As I lay there entranced, I felt like I was caught in a hypnotic dance, lost in a world that danced on the edge of reality and fantasy.
Cornucopia
Stepping into the room, my gaze was drawn to the eclectic mix of antiques, books, and toys that adorned every nook and cranny. The walls were a canvas for breathtaking artworks that seemed to breathe life, each with its own story to narrate. Amidst all this, the television stood apart, humming with a life of its own, refusing to blend in. But as I sat down with a contemplative glass in hand, the TV’s obstinance ceased to matter.
The room’s mystifying aura had already cast its spell, leaving me in a state of wonder and introspection.
Hours would pass as I marveled at the cornucopia laid out on the coffee table before me: cups brimming with vodka-soaked fruits, a round bottle of exotic South American vodka, chocolate cream, weather-beaten books, an old wooden box dispensing cigarettes, nail polish, cheese biscuits, a remote control, vintage crossword puzzles unearthed by Dan from some forgotten storage room, and probably the only dish in the house serving the day’s special: be it lasagna, chicken stew, or leek with rice.
Gastronomic delights
My life was a symphony of simplicity and comfort. I found peace in the stillness and solitude that came with being an introvert. Nestled between the walls of a few houses, studios, and galleries, I found my haven. Here, I could lose myself in the written word, indulge in gastronomic delights, savor my favorite drinks, and smoke to my heart’s content. But my life was not just a monotonous routine. In my introverted world, I stumbled upon a treasure trove of discoveries that led me down paths I never imagined.
Each new book, meal, drink, and smoke unveiled parts of me that had long been concealed. My life remained simple and comforting but now it was also mesmerizing and hypnotic, filled with mystery and exploration.
Silence can be a mysterious companion, especially when one too many drinks are involved. Loneliness would creep in, and every word felt like a lead weight on my tongue. But then, something shifted. Time seemed to slow down, and suddenly, the world was filled with possibilities. I found myself in the company of bohemians, their voices hypnotic and mesmerizing, sweeping me up in their gallant tales.
The alcohol that once numbed me became a catalyst for something magical. It was as if the universe had decided to cut me some slack, offering me a chance to experience life in an entirely new dimension.
Farewell, past!
Every day felt like stepping into a seven-mirrored kaleidoscope, reflecting the vibrant and exotic artworks that surrounded me. I felt like Alice, lost in a wonderland where each image pulled me deeper into a mesmerizing trance. The vibrant colors mirrored my emotions, and the art became a window to my soul. I remember getting lost in the intricate details, feeling hypnotized by the beauty and secrets hidden within each piece. Even today, stepping into an art museum transports me back to those days of wonder that have left an indelible mark on my spirit.
“That’s your writer’s pen,” Dan cheekily said to me one day, his smile hinting at mischief.
Dive in with me, will you? To a time when curiosity wasn’t just a word, but an intoxicating perfume that clung to me as I flitted about, immersing myself in the world of artists. A newly found fascination that I couldn’t help but feed. The artists, initially welcoming, soon viewed my presence with suspicion. Their sidelong glances only stoked the flames of my obsession. Was I smarter than I looked? Was I spying? Writing about them? Oh, the thrill of it all! It was like being on a roller coaster with no end in sight.
Sensuality and Depression
Then came the silence. A deafening, soul-crushing silence. My little bubble of innocence popped. Shattered were the dreams and promises I had once held dear. The image of the perfect woman I once embodied was now tarnished. The sweet idleness that defined me was replaced with a sense of disorientation, a loss I couldn’t fathom.
All around me, the world seemed to blur into insignificance. But amidst the chaos, I felt a strange stirring within me.
Was this the beginning of a new chapter? One that would redefine me?
I became a sponge, soaking up stories of wealthy ladies and downtrodden prostitutes, tales of fortunes made and lost, tales of travels and fascinating personalities. I chronicled everything, leaving no stone unturned.
Remember Dan’s story of making love in a snowy field? Once, it had me spellbound. Now, I can’t help but question it. Were his words simply a product of an overactive imagination? The image of him being chased by horny crows now seems more ludicrous than sensual.
Temptations and Asexuality
My writing had taken on a life of its own. Each word, each sentence, was purposeful, intentional. I was not merely stringing words together but painting a vivid picture of reality. What came out was a scandalous 300-page memoir, teeming with tales of sex and mysticism. And to top it off, a Christian poem titled “Palma Christi.”
My writing had become a force that I could no longer tame, but one that I had to surrender to.
“You write very well, but the text doesn’t pass through you. A writer is a reflexive exhibitionist; you remain a moralist,” Dan once said. And he was right. I was holding back.
Guilt can be a heavy burden. It can stem from perceived laziness or self-indulgence. It’s a nagging feeling that eats at you until you find something to propel you forward. But finding that ‘something’ isn’t always easy. You may search high and low for inspiration, but sometimes, you need to step out of your comfort zone to find it. That’s what I did. I decided to shed my old habits and venture into the unknown.
Temptation was everywhere. Despite my resolution to quit smoking, I longed for anything that would satiate me. The allure of crystal mirrors was too hard to resist. They painted a seductive image, luring me into a hypnotic trance. But as I stood there, lost in the beauty of it all, a sense of emptiness washed over me.
The concept of asexuality intrigued me. It was like stepping into a world beyond the conventional male and female binary. I was drawn to the freedom it offered, the ability to exist without societal labels.
So, I made a choice. I chose to reject traditional labels and embrace self-expression. It was an uncharted path, but one that connected me to a deeper sense of self.
Asexuality might be a foreign concept to some, but for me, it was an eye-opening experience that will forever echo in my heart.
[to be continued…]
Read for at least 30 seconds, read again, clap, engage, and… anticipate the next story penned a while back…somewhere between 2007 and 2015!
But most importantly, a heartfelt thank you to each one of you. Your unwavering support has been priceless.
Julia Kalman 