Xan mo ilo, kamlale!
Pale si ma e zhivindi jag…
These are Rromani words meaning “Eat my heart, my beloved ones! While I still keep the flame of life…”
So why do I want my heart eaten?… How?… By whom?…
To the first –rhetorical– question my answer is simple: because I need love now beyond restraints and limits. Now, to the second: eating my heart, swallowing it, making it part of you is not straightforward, since it requires a especial bond and a knowledge of me that cannot be attained by words or thoughts; not by any physical contact or intercourse. It means letting my spirit enter yours and blending with parts of it (or with all of it in ideal, very infrequent conditions) and then keeping it there, caring for it and accepting the changes you would forcibly undergo from then on; nothing inconvenient, even less, bad, since my “heart” is blue enough (somewhat between cobalt-blue and azure) to always become a decent influence, disregarding your own heart’s colour; just mind you that if it is red or too intensely orange no mixing will be possible.
The third question is partially answered already, but let me say it more clearly: I offer my heart to everybody who love me or feel true affection toward me beyond a mere whim, and also without any spurious personal interest, be it sexual, monetary or selfish in any way (because I look cool or mysterious or sweet or clever, for instance).
Thus, if you love me unconditionally, or think you could love me this way, just take me; Xan mo ilo thaj kaman ma!
[Ari Fontrodona’s diary: April 22nd, 2016]
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4 thoughts on “Xan mo ilo! – Eat my heart!”
Anyone who entered into a relationship with her, whether platonic or romantic, should have been prepared to love her unconditionally and accept her fully. Some of us did. It’s ironic she would include the last paragraph of this entry considering what he did to her……no one associated with her to any degree would have any excuses………
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It’s truly ironic… and quite incredible. Her writings on her diaries those days were all similar, showing some desperate need of a future like she dreamt of and, at the same time, a clear intuition of an approaching end. This particular entry, written half in English and half in Catalan -aside of the Romani quotes- left me speechless a few months ago, when realizing it was the seed of a shorter post of her (with the same header image I show here) that drove her to a fulminant falling in love and a prompt engagement. I just can understand it according to one of these two assumptions: 1- She was so in a hurry that she failed to notice the dangers and even deceived herself. 2- She was right beyond our understanding and beyond all facts known afterwards… The factor that drives me to rely more on the first explanation is the very ardorous nature of her private writtings since she knew of her illness. She was extremely on heat and fire. I can understand her well for several motives, impossible to put here. The fact is that I deeply empathize with her , back then and even better right now, when I’m undergoing great changes within myself with similar side-effects ://
I didn’t want to post this… but yesterday, after nine months without her, I changed my mind.
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Reblogged this on après-pensées.
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