memories mysterious

Better than any drug or drink.

2011-11-12T17:11:00.000-08:00

This... thing I do. This blog. Not many read it, but satisfaction comes from the thought of someone reading it. It's rather lazy and vain. It's cowardly at times. I could tell all these things to my loved ones, but then they'd worry. People who don't write, constantly ask me if I'm "ok". I don't know anyone who is "ok". So, no damn it, I'm not ok. But, it's ok to not be ok.

I used to read amongst other people. These letters used to come with a face. Those days, I couldn't hide from my feelings. A friend taught me without teaching me how to make others feel my writing. And somehow, when they felt it with me, it was ok. It was gone. I wasn't as scared of life anymore.

Now, terrified. Terrified because everything is inside me, and if I don't get it out it's going to envelope me.

I need the drug of faces awaiting my every word. I need to drink in that clarity.

Like an addict, I need it.

2011-09-19T09:47:00.000-07:00

Today, I noticed the season change. The leaves have begun to wilt, lose their color, and crumble to the ground. They speed off as if some exotic destination awaits them; sadly, it is only death no matter their path. They will be piled, composted, and made to make new life for the next growing season.

The trees are left to repair, alone. Much like me, once again, repairing alone. My craft does suffer when I am with someone. My focus changes completely to this other person. I'm not certain why? Humans have always had trouble balancing, I was told recently. I suppose that is true. I cannot balance my love of another with my love of me. Perhaps, I do not love me as I should. If someone should love me, it should be me... right? I've got to find some path to tackling this great feat of self-worth. Another thing that has difficulty maintaining its balance.

So, fall remaking is upon me, and the bliss of a sun-kissed summer is leaving. The bliss of ignorant love is gone. Life will pale with my skin and sink into winter's grasp.

I do not know how I am to find solace in any of the current happenings.

I don't know what I'm doing... I am faithfully trying. Faithfully, failing. I am only trying to make it through this life.. trying to be a good person... trying to be someone, upon which, others can rely. I am only trying.

I don't know what I'm doing. Luckily, no one knows. Maybe, I'm not so alone as I've thought.

2011-08-31T19:08:00.000-07:00

I'm like a cement wall made from individual bricks. When it was created, it was solid. It was strong. It didn't bend to harsh weather or continued climbing by children.

It's strong in one piece.

Slowly, time has eroded it. Slowly, pieces have been scrapped off, rain has deteriorated its slabs, and in the sun, it fades. Faster, this happens. As passing of the years quickens, the corruption of it's foundation speeds closer to total loss.

I'm like, half standing right now. I left an important piece of me at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. I think I might return often to try repairing myself.

fuck your punctuation

2011-08-30T20:25:00.000-07:00

"Maybe in 5 or 10, yours and mine will meet again; straighten this whole thing out... there's really no way to reach me; cause I'm already gone."

Thankful this day is closing. I have been sedated in self-pity for hours. I need a new day. I need a new sunrise; a new sunset... I need a change of scenery... it's coming, it's coming. Besides copious amounts of thinking, this day has been wasteful. Smile here, joke there, laugh now, cry later... I need a new day... I need a new fucking byline.

fata morgana

she appeared, with the first dawn’s glare
promising her creation
as attainable mystic-ness
where third realm light
becomes reality
with her wistful translucence
and serene, almost surreal, silhouette
she materialized with the carbon in the atmosphere
brilliant, she seemed
so immaculate and roseate
realizing my sacrificed dreamland
I reached for her cream colored shadowy hand
but she slipped through me
leaving her majestic essence
within my entity
all unsuspecting delusions
overwhelming sudden confusion
mastered my compassion
and like an intangible fabrication
at a fairy tale end
she was gone
like all other apparitions
breaking my confidence, all over again
as a mirage leaves nothing
and bequeaths only wanting
So, all I am is just waiting
anticipating my fantasy’s return

I sleep to finish... effortless.

2011-08-29T01:26:00.000-07:00

In the Red of my obsession,
a blue sky swells over me
And shade, shrinks.

although love's exonerated,
In your blandishment,
Growth fetters,
callow and unambitious.

not for a lack of apathy,
But a need, a Desire.
Desire for liberation,
Dismissal of preconceived notions

Of my remaining lust
My enduring reverence
My exceeding infatuation,
A constancy of adoration
That IS no more.

Truth is,
I never hated you,
I still don't hate you,
But,
I don't love you.

I'll wait for the day I can tell you,
I do not need you.
I don't need you to know,
I am NOT counting my moments
desirous for our reunion.

In your recollection,
My name resounds
passion, longing
Devotion, sullen desperation...

Be enlightened:
once a flame glimmered
Hard in my affection,
And met its demise

On the tip of your tongue,
its silent ways,
and in the Black of my affliction.

i could really use a wish right now

2011-06-20T19:29:00.000-07:00

I don't remember the moment. I can pinpoint the time frame, but not the moment. Some how, it was sneaky. I'm not sure if I was ready for it to happen, although I'm ready for it now. I'm in love with it, mostly. Other times, it's frustrating.

Sometime during the last two years, I went from girl to woman. In a lot of ways, I haven't been a girl, maybe ever. And, I can't really describe the exact characteristics or... changes that have forced me to make the transition, but it's clear. I don't think I'm alone in noticing it.

You see it.

I still struggle, though. I wrestle with me now and me then and the me I want to be in the future. I'm beginning to wonder if any of it matters? No matter how much I seem to grow personally, I still lose daily. I lose friends, love, and family. I lose pieces of my youth. I shed them like dry skin.

It flakes away with each brush up against another. I feel it leaving me. I never thought I'd care... that's when I thought life was planned. I thought, I was growing old with someone. I guess I hadn't faced the possibility of growing old alone... Until recently. Now, I'm trying to cling to my youthfulness, but I see it fading in my face, my hands and my heart.

The last part is what I miss most. I don't have the ability to fight for what my heart wants anymore. It settles... and I can't talk it into standing up for itself. I used to be able... and now I'm just defeated.

So, being a grown up is supposed to come with all sorts of knowledge and realization. Maybe it does. Perhaps it comes with an understanding of what "sweating the little stuff" really means. But, it's surrendering. I don't know if that's positive or damaging to my self.

Somehow, I fell out of love with being a woman during this post. I want my innocence back. I want it back, and I can't fucking remember where I left it, or if someone stole it. Or did I discard it like garbage? How foolish.

If you've got an art, stop neglecting it.

2011-05-15T20:23:00.000-07:00

The cursor on this page tortures me. It begs me to type... to type something worth reading. But, I'm just staring at it. I have nothing but vain things to write about, aimlessly.

Someone currently calls me, "baby". Is it the kind of "baby" I want? Is there love, honesty, and trust beneath those letters? I don't know the answers.

I currently call someone "baby". Is it the kind of "baby" he wants? No. There is love, honesty, trust... desire... so many damn things behind it. So many damn things he doesn't want. I know those answers. I do not have the strength or courage to act upon what I know. I cannot leave him. I'm trapped exactly where I am... always, trapped. I've given my heart to him, although he does not take ownership.

Don't call me baby... don't waste my time.

I feel slighted

2011-02-25T19:17:00.000-08:00

I am the youngest of three sisters. It was pretty much my mother and us three for the majority of my life. All I knew, is what they told me. So, I feel like they did a bit of a shoddy job. I mean, I have no idea how to guard my heart. No one ever taught me. So, I walk around with it hanging from my neck. I don't even cradle it in my hands, much less put it safely in my chest. This is something I need to learn. All those I've ever given it to, have treated it more like a volleyball... taking the time and focus to spike it at times.

If I had had a little sister, I would have taught her... keep your heart only for you. It's too fucking important and it's painful when you give it to someone else that is careless with it. If I had a daughter I would teach her that people are mean.... they are self-serving.

Don't fucking trust anyone with your heart... its breaking is inevitable.

2011-02-01T01:02:00.000-08:00

So, tonight I was brushing my teeth, and in the mirror I was looking at the t-shirt I have on which reads, "Tony's Sutton Pizza". It's navy blue, and the material is old and very soft, but it's still in good condition. It doesn't belong to me... well, I guess some kind of ownership rules have been enacted due to the amount of time it has spent being worn by me, rolled up in my hamper, or folded in my drawer. So, I guess it's mine, but I did not acquire it in a store nor was it given to me; You used to wear it. It's an item from our break-up. I wonder if you remember it? It was yours. You wore a lot of t-shirts like it that you'd purchased at second-hand or vintage stores. I liked that about you. Your t-shirts really didn't mean anything. This shirt was left at my place after the hardest of all hards as far as break-ups go, and in my world, anyway. It was the first, and by extension, the one I most failed. It was my wake-up call into love and relationships.

You were a lovely guy, probably still are, but by this time, a man. It was all very typical. Our relationship was short. You made me feel beautiful, something I had not felt. The climb was exciting and new. The view from the top was stunning. The descend was glorious, and the fall was life-changing. We climbed fast, and fell harder. I shook the Earth when I hit the concrete. I was awful to you for weeks. I was confused, scared, angry, hurt, sad, happy, hormonal, clingy, and starving. I was so many emotions... they were unstable chemicals, and I was a heated test tube. They had no business being in one's heart simultaneously. So, naturally, I wasn't equipped even minimally to handle it given my perspective on life. I was young. You were young. You told me you loved me. No one else has said it quite like you... then again, all men that proceeded you were compared to you. It's unfair, but unavoidable.

I used to be proud of myself when I could stay away from you for a month. I remember when I came to see you shortly after 9/11/01. You always looked so handsome... and you always told me how good I looked. That was usually our first exchange. I revisited us even after I moved home, far from you. I did that for ten months. I still remember the last time I saw you. After about a year and a half or so of revisiting one another, I finally just stopped calling. FINALLY. That was an emotionally trying time.

After another year or so, I'd met someone I was excited about. After I trusted him, I told him our story, and I showed him our pictures. He said, "Happy looks good on you." About two or so months passed, and I decided, foolishly, all those pictures had to go. I destroyed them. I'm not sure what got into me. I don't remember how I felt at that moment, but I remember thinking "These gotta go." I still didn't feel over you, and I guess somehow I thought this action of "burning" your ex into ashes, figuratively, would be cleansing. I know it was bullshit. I don't have anything left... This is something I've regretted for many years. I tried to delete you. I don't know why I thought that was possible. Our relationship is very defining in my life. I hope I learned from it... and I think I continue to learn from it. I would never want to forget you... even if I never see you or hear from you again, which is likely. It has been eight years or something.

So, I wish I hadn't tried to erase you. BUT, the t-shirt... I was brushing my teeth, I read the shirt, and I thought, "So, I didn't delete all of him." I felt a sudden rush of relief. I have several of them still. I've cleaned out my collection of shirts very often, and I've never gotten rid of any of yours, and I never thought twice about keeping them. I don't even need to unfold them to now which they are... that's how long I've had them.

I don't expect to revisit this love, or that time in my life. I don't miss you anymore. I do miss my innocence. I gave that away when we were together, and I can't remember who I left it with... I don't know if it was you or if I left it in a pair of jeans that got washed. At any rate, that shit is gone, and I can't have it back. But, I like to remember who I was when I was with you. I was carefree, and I didn't hold back anything. Maybe she is who I miss, uh? I'm just glad I have the t-shirts... and no, you can't have them back.

2011-01-31T21:10:00.001-08:00

A face like an angel,

that no one could love.

A heart like a stallion,

that ended up alone.

just be scared with me

2011-01-30T13:07:00.000-08:00

Life is so stupid. So many of us fail at it. I fail on a daily basis. I fail to have patience at a stop light or consideration for a coworker. I fail to look myself in the eye and believe that I'm beautiful. I fail to care for me.

A few events have occurred over the past week that has left me sullen and sulking. I don't know a way out. I don't know where to go from here. I'm trapped inside my apartment with a keyboard and monitor. It's beautiful outside, and I cannot bring myself to open the back door. I'm lost in my thoughts. I'm lost in devastation. There is one thing I'd like to succeed in, and I cannot seem to find another person willing to go my distance. How foolish of me to think that another person could contain the amount of passion I hold... the amount I extend. I'm just too intense, and I don't know another way of being.

A friend send this text to me... a friend that knows me well. A friend that has always got the perfect words to say to me. He cares greatly for me, and I'm so thankful for him. He is letting me devour myself for the time being. He's allowing me to be sad. Other people seem to just want me to wake from this nightmare, as if they can do so by shaking me. It's like shaking an angry cat right now. I just want to be sad.

me: the hardest part is getting dumped

Friend: I'm sorry. You are truly a unique and wonderful woman and clearly he doesn't have the capacity to appreciate who you are.

me: ty. That means a lot to me.

Friend: Just know I care, and you matter. It's well-known that time heals hurts... people never acknowledge, however, that when you're hurting, time stretches, interminably slow.

How right is he?

Monday is steadily approaching, however, and soon I must face life. I've been fairly independent throughout my life. Things have happened and I've been able to overcome them. This... this however, feels very damaging. It's more damaging than anything I've encountered in recent times. But, I still have to pick up, and be, I guess. Many people depend on me continuing on... pushing forward, or whatever. Maybe I can just delay this shit for one more evening...

*Are you okay?

-I'm scared.

*Me too.

-Want to be scared together?

*I like this idea.

2011-01-09T19:57:00.001-08:00

My capacious heart

I've neglected you, Daughter. The fleeting disposition of my absent nature is my Life. I will not expatiate my regret or grief. I will not burden you with my eccentric deeds because you see, Daughter, you will not forgo my trespasses. You will not repudiate my damage because it is done. I do sit up at night wondering and dreaming of your place in life. I think, "Did I have a hand in success or happiness?" Well, as truculent as my Life and choices may seem, Pride remains. I'd rather not face the facts. I'm ruined.

Ephemeral Enmity Love

Father, you have left me. A day has gone and went and still... all is silent on your end of the line. My jovial childhood precedes my somber youth. And, somewhere in between I can see your evanescent guidance and your dilatory inclination swallowing your love. I can see you forever in the background whispering, judging and hating. You knew someday your laggard ways would perch its filthy face on my shoulder. The day has come, Father. A day for recognition. I have bruises; They are well protected and remain fresh. But, Father... I'm okay. Mother was there. Always, Mother was there picking up after your sloppy counsel. She governed in a world enveloped in regret. She's still cleaning your vacuous Life out of my eyes. Bruises fade, Father. The past remains the same.

But, I'm okay, Daddy. Mommy is still here.

2011-01-04T15:27:00.000-08:00

Why does it feel like we made it official, and suddenly caught the plague. Our disease is eating away at one another. The closer we get.. the further we are from happy.

I realized something sobering last night. I put all my eggs in one basket. A basket that was supposed to with stand eternity... or at least my eternity. Well, the bottom fell out, or it caught on fire or something. Either way, my fucking eggs are spoiled.

Useless.

I'm terrible at this "girlfriend" thing. I don't know what I'm thinking. It will only end, and probably journey, into pain. Maybe I'm too demanding. Maybe I don't know me. Maybe I'm a fucking idiot. All I know for sure is I feel like crap. I'm so tired of waiting for other people to make me feel good. One would think I would have figured it out after all these years.

Life has dealt me awful awful cards. Not the worst a person could have, but not even decent. Why do I continue to hope I'll get an Ace once in a while? Why am I so fucking foolish? I'm just a ghost here. I'm not even a likable person anymore.

I gently float
on my limits.
Pushing and
pressing,
softly.

Loving
dysfunctional,
and weeping
for it,
woefully.

Gliding
and misleading,
the strings of my
heart,
foolishly.

I'll continue to
depress my love
in longing.
I'll keep it from
mending.

I know nothing else.

2011-01-03T19:45:00.000-08:00

A love affair exists in the skies. We don't notice it, but it's always there. It's tumultuous. It's a stellar triangle the sorts only celestial beings are blessed... or cursed... to experience.

The Sun, he is steady. He's trapped in place while the woman he loves, The Moon, circles an uncontrollable forever. He watches her always as her evening hair is soft lifted upon his eternal morning. He goes days without even a glance in his direction; he struggles to keep her attention, but his glare burns bright on her light skin, and her aging surface hides from him.

The Comet can't stop his tracks. He constantly crashes past the Moon... and past her... and past her. Each of his lives begins with the excitement of fragments breaking off into her, or the terror of his uncontrollable path taking him into the Earth instead. His journey takes years, decades, and sometimes longer... each life's duration is unpredictable. He races for her... he tries to bend himself in her direction... but he's subject to the wind's discretion.

The Moon is continually faced with a choice. A fleeting love she knows will die a hundred thousand times before he can grace her with a soft kiss, or the steady Sun that cannot be moved, but would worship her forever, and be with her always. Emotional excitement or steady suburbia.

Look up sometime... you'll see it.

2010-12-31T17:30:00.001-08:00

I wonder when I'll die? I could be dying all along. I could be floating to
death like a feather departed from its maker. It does not die until it has hit
the ground. I was living until my innocence left me. What happens when the
amount of time spent living is exceeded by the years spent dying? Is that when
I will expire? Or, is someone sent to save me? I have been waiting for some
time now, and I'm hard pressed to believe they are coming indeed. I've only a
few years remaining before my time overlaps. If I continue breathing, it would
surely be dying inhaled, and death exhaled.

Maybe we are all feathers? Some have lived beautiful on swans, but dying is a
short trip to drowning death. Some are on the wings of eagles, soaring
sorrowfully their inevitable extinction, and grand idolization. Their feathers
fall a beautiful back and forth, and are sometimes prolonged with gusts of wind
and life. Some are trapped on flightless birds. How sad a the life of
a feather that never soars in the sky... their dying is short, and death comes
beneath the feet of predators.

They (we) all eventually sink, and only memories of their (our) fantastic falls remain.

As a feather floats upon the wind
and fancies itself endless,
I soar with her flight.
She romances and begs the evening sun,
for another day of life,
and I relish in her fight.

Resolution

2010-12-23T14:54:00.002-08:00

I'm a little achy in the heart today. It's a bizarre feeling, and rather difficult to put into words properly. The best way to say is, I have a particularly dreadful sort of longing right now. Longing because, obviously, there is something I desire which I do not presently posess. Dreadful, because it's not something I'm quite comfortable desiring.

Last night, I made a... resolution, I guess (I had trouble determining what word would best fit here). I've said many times that I'll never marry again. I believe this determination, although many others do not. Here is why I believe marriage fails. We all know people who marry, and stay together forever. But, what percentage are they of those couples who marry? I mean, 5% maybe of the married couples I know/knew are still together. Something so fragile as love is doomed to failure when the expectation and pressure of "forever" is place on it's very existence. It must breathe every moment with the understanding that if this fails, dreams are crushed. How can anything possibly survive with that kind of pressure?! Life is fleeting, and that is why it is precious. Love is fleeting, and should also be cherished as such. Two people get together and decide that they have the rest of their lives to appreciate one another, so appreciation ends. I'm certain someone else has thought this before, but I'm just now thinking it, I guess. Or, I've been thinking it, and I'm only just now able to put in into words that matter.

So, my resolution... I'll never put any pressure, or expiration date for that matter on my current fling (or any future for that matter). I don't think that it is a fling exactly, but it is fun and exciting. No pressure... no expecation, no guilt, and no disappointment. I'm hoping that's possible for some time to come, because as soon as it becomes impossible is when one or the other will split. He's not my boyfriend. He's more of a lover in every sense of the word, not just physically. It's romantic, passionate, and important. So, he and I end when we end. I don't believe in forever anymore anyway. Everything dies, and why should romantic love be any different?

Anyway, why is my heart achy? I don't rightly know. Maybe because I left him with a kiss as goodbye this morning while he lay very cozy still... maybe because I have nightmares when I sleep alone... maybe because I have deeper feeling for him that I would not define as love. I believe I've stumbled upon some other sort of affection. I don't quite know its definition. I know that it's different, and it's probably because I'm different. I'm exploring it, and just trying to be happy. I'm trying not to lose me amongst all the other people in the world. It seems easy to do. I've never considered myself someone of weak character, but still, I lose me. I'm trying to keep me close.

2010-12-20T20:04:00.000-08:00

He picked me up
with ease.
He said he meant
no harm.

He lied.

Love sick and
diseased,
I'm romanced
and disarmed.

Locked inside.

My affections
pleded,
and melted,
with his love's charm.

And I died.

Foolhardy

2010-12-20T02:10:00.000-08:00

In a fragile fashion,

he places my face in his hands.

Careful not to disrupt

our naive plans.

He stares just long enough

in my eyes to incite a spark,

and fast averts his gaze.

Always pressing our luck.

Our words are delicate,

like frozen flowers

laying nervous in a fire,

soaking in a cautious cower.

Brittle bits of us leak

on our paths apart,

our stained will power weak,

permanent in our hearts.

2010-12-19T19:49:00.000-08:00

I got off early one day recently. It was warm, even for my taste. Still, I drove with the moon roof open and driver's side window down. There is something about having the wind in my face and whipping my hair around and feeling the steam of the sun on my skin that pleases me. I stopped at a light and noticed several birds with large wingspans floating above me. They appeared to be floating for pleasure... I've never thought of birds being self-serving in any way, but I guess if hanging in the sky against the breeze felt good, I'd do it too if I were able. One bird relied heavily on his right wing; his left looked damaged... maybe due to some vicious bird fight. I stared up at him, guarded my eyes from the sun, and I was jealous. He is wounded, but compensates. Maybe he doesn't know he's at a disadvantage. I'm willing to bet he keeps up with the other birds just fine, and does not look to them with envy. And, they probably don't see a broken wing. I've wanted to be a bird (not uncommon I guess). I can't imagine that sort of freedom. Not just the freedom of flight, but freedom from logical thought also. I think it tortures me, or I torture it. Either way, the pain exists. The point is I guess that I’m going to stop looking at myself as though I have a disadvantage, and learn to fly with my broken wings. I’m certain they’ll mend at some point, even if scars still exist.

Self-pity by D.H. Lawrence

I never saw a wild thing

sorry for itself.

A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough

without ever having felt sorry for itself.

2010-12-16T19:36:00.000-08:00

I'm fairly certain, that I can never really be with someone else without giving up a piece of me. I really don't want to give up any of me. I'm selfish. I want all of me to be here; it's not fair that I should have to compromise me. Life is stupid.

Love is even stupider. The stupidest part is that I need it. I long for it as flowers yearn for spring showers and the coming warm sun. Ceasing to breathe seems easier.

I'm living with half a heart right now anyway. What's the problem with giving up a bit of me so I can have a whole heart? I'm not so sure it would be in good hands. I'm scared for its treatment. I'm scared for the half of heart I have hiding in the night stand. If I put it back in my chest, it could be stolen. If I carry it, dropping it is inevitable. I could lend it to someone, but would they return it? And, what state would it be in? I'm scared for it.

I'm just straight up scared.

2010-12-05T19:27:00.000-08:00

I have decided... I have a need to make other people happy. It makes me feel good to please others. I have seen this as a flaw in the past. I've seen it as something I need to change. Maybe I don't? Maybe, it's part of my character. Maybe it's something other people have to accept. Maybe it's something I have to accept..?

As I age, there are so many things about me that could be better... but, I can never be perfect, right? So, I have to stop trying to change the things that really won't have an affect on life. I have to live with them.

I'm not perfect. I'm flawed... so very flawed.

I'll settle for perfectly flawed.

2010-12-02T20:26:00.000-08:00

Driving home tonight I was able to drive westward... into the sunset. The sky was clear, apart from a few clouds. They seemed to gather around the retreating day. Maybe they are clinging to its warmth? It's partly the reason I watch. I love soaking in those last few warm rays while the goosebumps overtake me.

Shadows drift off sunset's fringe
hopeful for a repeat of amber glory.
Fiery cast honor in dusk's binge
woefully reciting the day's story.

Sun does not see his evening,
only morning.
but Moon basks in the beauty
of Sun's duty.

2010-11-26T21:51:00.000-08:00

I am emotionally compromised. I laugh as I say that because thinking about it being funny instead of sad helps me to deal. Truth is, I've probably always been this way. I told a friend a story a few nights ago. It wasn't a particularly thrilling tale of lust, drama or suspense. It was merely a memory... an early memory from when life was still carefree and simple. My mother didn't murder my father or anything tragic like that. It's the moment my life went from simple and carefree to worrisome and fear ridden. The day that my parents told me they were getting divorced. My father turned into a real
prick after. I guess it's why I always expect the worst is going to develop even if it's been fantastic for years. People always disappoint me, and maybe I cause it.

So, emotionally compromised. I'm too analytical and up in my own thought most times to really pay attention to what's happening. I don't know how else to be right now. There'll be no changing it until I can afford therapy... this is the best therapy I can get. So, for now... you are my therapists. I'm not paying, okay?

2010-11-21T19:56:00.000-08:00

Girl's Night. Girl's Night is just about the most fun I ever have, ever. Last night was Girl's Night. We go out in packs (strength in numbers I guess), in dresses, painted nails, make-up we helped one another apply, necklaces or earrings, and a fancy peep-toed pump to finish it off. Getting ready for a night out with the gals is nearly just as fun as having it. I have quite a few male friends, but it's not the same. With my male friends, I spend much more time smiling politely at compliments... awkwardly, I might add. I try to gracefully accept the comment. I feel exposed, and put my jacket on. I feel... crowded sometimes. I don't feel that way with the girls. If they comment on my blouse, it's because they actually LIKE my BLOUSE, and not what's under it. We talk about where it was purchased, and how much was paid. We gasp at it's expense high or low.

We help one another pick out everything... clothing, shoes, hair, make-up... men. We rely so much on our girlfriends.... but, we have so few, and sometimes we treat one another like the enemy. That's a damn shame.

So, last night I had girl time. It was exactly what I needed. I hope it helps me to release all the frustration I've been carrying. I'm lugging around a heavy weight. It's difficult to think about letting it go; I almost don't want to. If I do, then I let that person go associated with the weight. But, I guess I have to do so.

It still pains me, but a night out with the gals lessens the blow.

upon others reflections

2010-11-20T14:45:00.000-08:00

I've had a lot of good friends... most of them I still keep in my heart even if I haven't seen them in years. We still speak, and they still know me. Three of my friends have said to me, "You are my phoenix." Now, to be called this, is rather fitting. I am constantly rebuilding myself from my mistakes or failures. At the same time, I am not vain enough to believe I can be compared to this mythical beauty. These three friends do not know one another... they have all been in different moments in my life, different periods of repairing. They've said how they admire my independence and ability to take my happiness into my own hands. They say so many wonderful things.

Another friend wrote this to me recently upon my compliments to his writing (and I think you'll see his words are well placed and the ideas are executed perfectly):

"I think there's always been a distinction between you and I as writing goes. You do have a gift for poetry and prose. It's understandable that you might feel humbled enough to hesitate considering yourself a poet. Still, if you aren't, there never was one. I'm a bit more of a novelist for sure. I rankled at the rules imposed on how I could express myself creatively in writing when I was in school, especially in poetry. I tell stories, yet you...you bare your soul (forgive the term) like a woman stripped, standing unashamed of her naked body, allowing those who see to decide for themselves whether to approve or not. There's a clear difference in the amount of self put into writing and I admire it about you."

Coming from him, that is a billion dollar compliment. Priceless, even.

So, my friends and other people in my life have seen my worth and dare to measure it.

My point? Why the fuck can't I see it?

fuck your reasons

2010-11-19T13:53:00.000-08:00

Again. Again it's one of those days when crying seems to be in order. It's as if there is nothing else I can do, but cry.

I've been there for you. I've been your friend, and you have been mine... mostly. You have been my friend when I fit into your life. When I haven't fit, you have broken up with me... you have cast me aside as though I were just a sour piece of salmon. I've taken you back without any questions... with open arms and a happy heart.

Again. You're doing this again.

I don't fit in your life anymore, and now you're tossing me like I'm bad milk. You poured me down the drain and rinsed out the carton. You were sure to confirm there was nothing left inside apart from a sour smell. You are thorough.

Have you ulterior motives always? You've never been my friend because that's what you wanted. You've been in my life under false pretenses.

If this is how it hurts, it couldn't get much worse.

Again. You've broken our friendship. You've defeated me... I am crippled... soaking in a salty pool of my making. I am devoured by my broken will to be in your life.

I want badly to be angry instead of saddened.

Forget what you know about betrayal. THIS is betrayal.

I can't forgive you, again.

so very vain

2010-11-18T22:05:00.000-08:00

I've said before... I really only talk about myself. I'm big on self-reflection. It's important to me to see what is really "there" and not just what appears to be "there".

So, I love my blog. I love it because I get all these thoughts on "paper". They'd bounce around in my head and probably do some brain damage if I didn't. Also, my blog is not private. Not many read it... three people I know for sure, and a few anonymous whom I don't think I've ever met. But, it's out there for anyone to find. Google knows my address. Anyway, there is a certain satisfaction in an online journal... it's exciting and satiating to know someone finds you interesting enough to read your vain rantings. So, for many years I've kept an online journal... and, this is actually my second.

A friend bought me a new journal. It's beautifully bound in dark leather and filled with blank lined ivory pages. It has a book mark and a leather strap to hold it closed. I have about 30 or so journals in a plastic case. Some of them aren't completed. I've become so reliant on being able to type out my thoughts that my penmanship has been reduced to a scribble... worse than it was years ago. Despite these facts, I plan to fill it with words I won't put online. It's never going to pass eyes apart from my own, so, it might be therapeutic. That was my intention before the blog craze began.

I'll record my mysterious memories here always. It's like an addiction. I'm addicted to my readers, be them few or many. You give me a rush... a sensation that's difficult to describe. It's adrenaline. It gives me goosebumps to know you find me interesting... when I only find myself rather vain and self-absorbed.

So, well, thanks for reading.

Earth's New Start

2010-11-17T16:38:00.000-08:00

In the end,
no one wins.
When Kingdom comes
with walls of sea,
to wipe us away
and begin again clean,
our medals
disappear over folds
of salty cannons,
our bodies
decay and mold
with submissive action,
and all scars made,
melt away,
in a solitary wave.
In the end,
only the Earth wins.

2010-11-16T16:06:00.000-08:00

A new Winnie the Pooh movie is set to be released. I've read it's the old-school-new Pooh, for which I'm very pleased. Winnie the Pooh is a fond memory from my childhood... what little time I was actually able to be a child anyway. I can barely remember care-free moments growing up.

-Playing at the corner with my sisters in the dirt searching for horny toads. People would drive past and yell, "Those things will give you warts!" We didn't believe them. I don't know if that is a myth or truth, but several years later, we all had to have warts frozen off our skin. That was painful. The second part of that is not really a happy memory.

-Running down to the creek by the school to catch tad poles. My dad had a tank big enough for us to swim in that, during the warm months, he'd fill with water, and we'd fill with tad poles in hopes they'd become frogs before our eyes. I can't remember if they ever actually did. I do remember the joy I felt running around, and getting dirty with my sisters.

-My first black eye. I was playing catcher for baseball. Let's just say my hand-eye coordination was weak. I was proud of that black-eye, though. I didn't cry. I was about 5 or 6, I think.

-Learning to ride a bike without training wheels. I have two older sisters, and wanted desperately to be just like them. I had my dad take off my training wheels at three years old. I remember him saying, "Are you sure?" I said, "Yes, Daddy. Take them off." Only a few hours later, and several falls, I asked him to put them back on. It was a few days later I asked him to remove them again. He said, "I'm not putting them back on this time." I guess it was difficult to do. My sisters helped me to balance, and I was riding like mad in no time.

And, Winnie the Pooh. My mom had an old copy of Winnie the Pooh stories. I remember the inside cover had a map of the 100 Aker Wood where Christopher Robin would visit Pooh and his friends. I used to study it. I loved Winnie the Pooh... "Oh bother," I would sigh sometimes, just like Pooh. His best friend was Piglet, and they were so sweet together. Tiger was bouncy, Owl was wise, Eeyore was sullen, Ro was young and energetic and Rabbit was obsessive. There were so many different characters with whom I identified. Most of all, it's one of the few times I remember my mom reading to me... sitting down and spending quality time with me. When I was young, my parents divorced. I had only just finished kindergarten when she started college. She didn't have time to help me study because she herself was studying to make a better life for us. I developed ways to learn on my own. It made me an efficient learner and student, but I think I lack other things because of it. I guess that's the way of things, though. You're always going to be heavy on one side or the other of everything life has to offer. If it can be offered, it can be taken away.

I digress... It wasn't long after my parents divorce that my mom became highly distracted by school/work and the general business of being unhappy alone. Then, my teenage years seem to converge on me like a hurricane. So, Winnie the Pooh... it makes me feel young again. It makes me remember the times when Mama read to me. I'm definitely going to see this movie.

"I wonder what Piglet is doing," thought Pooh. "I wish I were there to be doing it, too."

read me

2010-11-14T18:44:00.000-08:00

I don't tend to hold eye contact long. I'm afraid for the world to see me. They would be able to see inside me, and they might take pieces away. I can't afford to lose any pieces. I need all I've got left after all I've given away, and what's been stolen. I'm hording the rest of me. It is polite to ask for a piece, but fantastically unfair to demand it. And, even more shameful to be angry at denial.

I know that I'm not easy to read. I'm not easy to read because I don't allow it. I don't want to allow it (see reasons in first paragraph). It would be tragic if no one ever knew who I was, though. I've been hiding me for so long, I'm not sure I'm able to read me. So, what if I shelter me for too long, and end up trapped inside? I guess, for now, it's something I'm willing to risk.

Don't ask me, "what do you want?" You and I both will be frustrated with the answer. The truth is, I've never known.

2010-11-14T03:15:00.000-08:00

I feel like a giant shipping vessel at sea taking on water. My heart is a life boat trapped inside. No matter what she does, she keeps taking on water. She'll soon drown leaving me without cargo... Leaving me alone sinkin into the sea. I fucking hate the ocean.

BOUNDARY

2010-11-09T18:00:00.000-08:00

I stretch

until my fingers graze

the edge

of the line.

I stretch

until my back

is aback

your back.

I stretch

until you

tell me

to stop.

I stretch

until you think

I've over stepped

your limits.

I stretch

until

I reach your end.

I stretch still.

I stretch

until you

stop

me.

words meet heartbeats

2010-11-09T17:32:00.000-08:00

I feel like I make a mess of myself, knowingly, like, on a daily basis. I'm so angry with me. Maybe that's my biggest problem. Maybe no one has to forgive me, but me? But, how the fuck do I do that? I've made mistake after mistake. I can trace it, because it's so damn transparent. It's in every move I've made, and every word I've written. I wear it on my shoulder like a badge of shame. No one else blames me. It's just me. I'm in so much trouble. I threw myself here.

"You can't break a broken heart." LIES. It can be broken into an infinite number of pieces. There is no limit; there's only a cap on love. All it takes is for someone to speak the sweet words of heartbeats, and I'm smitten. I'm going to fight it.

I just can't love anymore. Keep it.

works-in-progress edit: 11/8/2010

2010-11-08T19:51:00.000-08:00

The season disappoints

my expectation

of Earth tones waltz

on nature's canvas.

Bursts of brilliant red break

through dying green and crumpled brown

to tap dance on my hair.

...Short lived hope

for the beauty promised.

Sun shafts cast warm pockets

of wind that lift and drop

wrinkled leaves.

...They fall slowly to death

like sheets of paper.

Great piles of dying summer,

once a hiding place...

only cripple under my weight,

leaving me on the cold ground.

Branches half-dead depress

in their weakened state,

and memories, colorblinded,

fade as summer expires.

Flocks of birds sing a

haunting sadness of

summer's passing,

as they depart.

...I hum along,

and follow them home.

I am

disappointed.

And, once again,

I'm dried leaves,

suppressed and saddened,

wilted,

just waiting on the wind.

2010-11-07T16:50:00.000-08:00

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love." --Washington Irving

I just want to cry today. I don't know why I feel such sadness sometimes.

It's sort of.. uncontrollable. Maybe it's empathy. I am sad for others misfortune. I am sad for it.

I just want to cry tonight... and so I'll sit here, and weep for others as an extension of my own sadness.

I'm a surgeon.

2010-11-07T15:27:00.000-08:00

If you have a broken heart, bring it to me. I will mend it. I will make you seemingly whole.

I've become an efficient heart surgeon. Disappointment looms over every horizon and after each sunset. But, it's become less and less hurtful. Scars litter my heart, and it's full of broken and mended tissue. It was full of character, but now it's verging on downright ugly from the repeated stitching... which in the long run, can't be good.

I'm a combat medic. I can recover in battle. I find myself absorbing others pain. I ball it up and keep it deep in my chest. In some ways, it's beginning to overwhelm my lungs, and ability to breathe. The longer I sit still, the more I feel its effects. The more the sobbing increases. I have to move; I have to find another rhythm to restore.

I'm a heart surgeon. I'm bound to get sloppy and nick an artery soon...

2010-11-06T20:56:00.000-07:00

I know what the trick is going to be, but I don't know how to get there.

I know the idea is to be satisfied being alone. But, how do I get there? I guess I have to start by being alone... romantically, completely. I don't want to take that step. Losing the amount of affection I currently possess would send this addict into raging withdrawals. There's bound to be lots of crying, drinking, and heavy partying. I'd probably write so much my fingers would bleed.

It has nothing to do, really, with any one particular person. It's affection. It's everything about it. I feed off of it. Rely on it. I don't know how to break my addiction, and still have it in my life?

O sweet Affection,

I'm an addict for you,

raging in withdrawal.

My skin turns blue from

the air between us.

It's sundered,

like rain falling from clouds.

All involuntary disrupts,

like drowning leaves

weeping death in puddles.

I curse the separate space,

the next embrace

and last kiss.

I curse empty.

Bi-Polar Heart

2010-11-04T20:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I drive down the road with all the windows down. I sing to fun jams until my throat hurts, and I'm completely out of breath. I feel so happy with the warm breeze tossing my bangs around, or the cold air stiffening my nose and heat on my feet. I smile, sigh heavily, and feel as though all is well.

Sometimes, I drive down the road, and I can't stand to have the wind in my face pelting me with strong gusts that jet my hair into my eyes. I hum solemnly to slow sad angsty modern-day poets. I can't find the right temperature on my heat or A/C. I'm uncomfortable, crumple my brow, sigh heavily, and feel absolutely lost.

I don't quite understand the disconnect experienced in the space between the two paragraphs above. The emotion, yes... the emotion is exact opposite in each. But, why? Where does this bi-polar heart originate? It's this behavior that concerns me. Will I always be a roller coaster? How am I to be loved if I can't even answer, "what's wrong?" Would I love that girl? Well, I think I love me, so maybe the answer to that is, "Conditionally."

Tonight, as I drove home, it was the former. I was smiling and laughing at my terrible singing. I don't know what's more important... having more evenings with this feeling or more consistency. I think consistency would be nice. I confuse me. This is not a good sign. I confuse everyone; someone has to have clarity on the issue of "me". It has to BE me. Being me is really getting on my nerves. I just want happy, and I want it more often than, not equal to, sullen.

I don't want to be a sullen wilted girl.

2010-11-03T20:25:00.000-07:00

So, either everyone on the planet is intuitive about my feelings, or I'm easy to read. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that I wear my emotions in my eyes, unmistakable. In fact, I'd call you captain obvious if you told me such. Even in a text I can't hide how I'm feeling.

Man, that is frustrating. I couldn't be someone else if I wanted. It also makes me a really bad liar, so I guess that's a good thing. But, it would be nice to build a little mystery, ya know? I mean mystery is something to which I'm incredibly attracted. I wish I weren't, however.

Bad? Good?

Whatever.

putting my love in storage

2010-11-02T19:14:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, damn near exactly, I spoke of a broken heart. And, again, a boy did not take it, but it heaves broken in my chest, somehow, able to beat. Life takes away my happy and still sends me inward. I'm always trapped in reflection, which seriously is annoying.

I still think back to being 19 and destroyed. I was destroyed by a boy. I gave a boy my love like an expensive gift, but he didn't return it when our romance ended. He still has it in the pocket of the pants he never wears stuffed in the bottom of his closet... they are too small for him. It's as if he keeps them in case they fit again someday. And, maybe, just maybe, that's why I don't demand he give it back. Maybe I think I'll fit again, which is just silly. I mean, at this rate, he's not getting a refund for anything he returns. After all, it's been 11 years. I still remember his phone number.

I don't know if I can love again. It's never been the same. I've never been the same. There is no abandonment of all inhibition anymore. There is no going back to those days. That makes me so sad. I don't want to try anymore. There is no unconditional. Trying is stupid. I wish love would stop finding me. The bastard is sneaky.

So, it's in writing, I don't want to try anymore. But, there is still a need for human affection. How do I get that, and keep my fickle heart at bay, AND keep from hurting someone else? Somehow, I must. So, for now, I'm not searching for love; I'm fighting like mad to keep it away from me.

2010-11-01T22:42:00.000-07:00

I don't know why, but I'm constantly amazed by the amount of love I have around me. I have been searching for romantic love like from the movies. So many little girls will be crushed to know it only exists in stories. So, I've been in pursuit of this fairy tale love, when all around me, love envelopes. I'm so loved. I do not feel deserving. I'm not certain from where this emotion stems, but I feel it in the simplist of gestures. I'm so fucking loved. How did I not see this before? For so long I've felt thankful for the people in my life, and never once did I think they'd be grateful for the same. It's a lovely discovery. I promise I won't forget. I promise to try to see the value in me others have seen for years. I hope the objects of my great affection feel it too. They are plenty.

I am in good company.

2010-10-31T17:00:00.001-07:00

I wonder how long I'll be a broken girl? Is there some sort of estimation someone can offer me? Will the mistakes I've made continue to repeat? I know they are mistakes; why the fuck do I continue to make them? I like to try and understand my behavior. Some of it, though, boggles the crap out of me.

I have too many questions. Too many of them are unanswerable. Stupid. I've felt very alone, and lost. I'm still freaking lost and who knows when I'll find myself, but I'm not alone. They are at least two people who know me... and they don't mind all my faults. They love me anyway, and in life, that's all that anyone can ask for, and it happens to be absolutely necessary. So simple, but damn near impossible to locate amongst all the lies and treachery in which this world drowns. So, maybe, just maybe, I'll find my way some day.

2010-10-27T10:56:00.001-07:00

The Wind is pissed today. It's finished Fall's job, and is carrying our left over summer off for company. Can't say I blame it for wanting them to join its journey. However, I'm not interested in being said company. It's howling so hard, I'm nearly blown away. It's rather annoying for it to be billowing such these three days. Three days when I have to be outside, and move furniture. It's frustrating to barely be able to get in and out of the car without being swept away, literally.

FACK. I think I'm sick of Fall already.

2010-10-26T07:22:00.000-07:00

I don't think I've ever had this much trouble finishing a piece of writing. The post below is just so damn sullen. I guess that is its intent. It's not like the past month has been perfect. And, it's a reflection of all the high hopes I had for my life in this place, and the sorrow I feel for failing.

I don't think I've ever written anything that lacked emotion such as life.

I don't know if I'll finish.

I wish I weren’t vain.

2010-10-22T16:58:00.001-07:00

I’m feeling particularly pitiful this evening. I’ve gone out of my way… not figuratively. It’s been decided that I cannot do it much longer, although it’s still being asked of me.

An aching sadness is consuming the air surrounding me. I do know that I want a partner for life… at some point. I do not want marriage or children. I just want to share this fucked up life with someone. And, the most I’ll ever ask is the same effort be given that I put forth.

That doesn’t seem like too much to ask, but I’ve failed again in spotting it. Correction… I’m failing. I’m failing slowly. It’s like turning on the shower too hot, and not having the means to move from it’s burning spray.

I’m just standing here in hot fucking water, and I am melting.

unchangeable against my will

2010-10-21T09:07:00.001-07:00

I'm am forever burdened by my romantic notions. They haunt me. I dream of pulsating lips parted by oxygen that never find their meeting. I wake to wind howling ambitions never lived. Couples embrace on the street while their ghosts hold their eyes open at me.

Lessons learned? I do not know what lessons I have learned. I am unchangeable. Even when I want to be, I cannot be moved. I sway briefly to the sound of fantasy, but I always return to reality. Why do I continue to want that which lies outside my own garden?

I cannot take my eyes off of the girl I’ve seen in my future. I’m doomed to never met her. I stretch my height while staring at the horizon; I’m so certain she’s there. If only my sight could reach just a bit farther. If only someone could help me find her.

Even when I need to be, I cannot be moved.

“If I never met you, I wouldn’t like you. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t love you. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t miss you. But I did, I do, and I will.”

2010-10-15T17:16:00.000-07:00

Some hate to run. The Road and I have a special connection. For a few years in my 20s, running was all I had. It was just me and the four mile stretch of asphalt near my home. I loved that path. I miss that path, but not the life in which it was held. There was no judgement on that road. Just me and my shoes, and some tunes. It was solace. I'd like to make it such again.

My body hates it right now. I am not in the best running shape, but I'm getting back there. I'm 30... man, that is hard to write down and I think I'll frown when I say it out loud until I'm 31. I'll probably have a different sort of frown at my age then. I need to lose about ten pounds to be more effective, but, I'm going to get my body back into running shape so I can share it with the Road. I don't need to run marathons, but I need that relationship back. It was the best relationship I've ever had. The Road isn't mad at me if I'm in a bad mood and don't want to talk, if I don't have any make-up on, or if I didn't do my hair. It doesn't even care if I stink. I can dress as uncoordinated as I like, and the Road is still happy to see me. It is a bit harder on me if I don't show up for a few days, but soon forgives. I need this relationship back. I'm pretty sure it's the only one I can't completely destroy. I can mistreat it, but it always takes me back. It's time I were better to the Road.

2010-10-07T06:29:00.000-07:00

I keep dropping my heart on the floor. I am responsible for its damage. I can't blame anyone else.

2010-09-17T18:25:00.000-07:00

I'm hopeful that eventually a light switch will go off. I'll be like, 'oh, right. Of course! THAT is what I want.' Life is so fucking stupid. We have imposed far too many responsibilities on one another. There is too much disappointment. No one can freaking win... Least of all, this girl.

2010-08-30T17:17:00.001-07:00

I'm willing to bet about 85% of the human race never find their place. Why do I think I should be on the other side? Why should I be so special and lucky? I envy those who find their place with talent (voice, music, athletics, business, writing, motherhood, whatever). I'm decent at many things in life, but not nearly masterful in one of them. This makes happiness in a living difficult. It also makes me indecisive. I haven't been able to pick which moderate skill to enhance. It's so stupid. The human race will see its downfall in searching for purpose.

I'd like to know where my instruction booklet was lost. I don't know the road to any where, and I can't find the one to my soul. Stupid. Why do I feel the need to find it? Purpose. It will kill me.

"Lord, make me a rainbow

I'll shine down on my Mother.

She'll know I'm safe with you

when she stands under my colors."

Exert from If I Die Young--The Band Perry

2010-07-04T19:44:00.000-07:00

How is it possible that on the day America declared its independence, I find myself lacking it?

The Wind must be lonely.

2010-04-29T08:39:00.000-07:00

I listen as she howls at the trees,

and whispers through my hair.

Her voice, a silent emptiness.

Her touch, warm weightlessness.

I ignore her when she's weakest

and sometimes curse her strength.

She must be lonely,

with only leaves for company.

I admire her relentless pursuit

as she travels to change her fate.

Her future is an unalterable forever.

Her future is certain. Solitary.

The Wind, she flows through me, completely.

I feel her fill me, lightly.

but, she will always be, empty.

The Wind must be lonely.

2010-02-21T16:27:00.000-08:00

i was driving yesterday in the rain. i was thinking of the new direction my life is headed, and the other places it's been. i've spent a lot of time with people who didn't share the same goals as i. some have had goals of career and self growth. things like appearance, travel and position were more important to them. i was labeled as "unambitious". but, my ambition is focused in another, more important area of life... LOVE. how pointless would a trip to Italy or Peru seem if you had no one with which to share it and no one to tell your stories with you? how silly would your fortune be if you lived in a house not full of family, but servants? how foolish to rely on your looks... when they fade.

LOVE. this is where i will succeed. i will build a mountain of it and be rich. i won't swim in one hundred dollar bills, but soak in bubble bathes of kisses. i will be the more fortunate one.

and, finally, i've found someone who feels the same. so, i drove down the road listening to the rain hit the window and thought of all the mistakes i've made that led me astray... it hit me. this is always where i've been headed. i wasn't ready yet. i just took the route of lessons because i had to learn a few before i could be ready. i'm ready now.

2010-02-11T10:23:00.000-08:00

disrespect. i feel it far too often. the vanity that people have is so disgraceful and pitiful. i am not above this vanity. i feel it at times too, and i also feel the shame that should and does accompany it. i believe i'm worthy of respect in this work place, yet i do not get it. the balance of work is so far off. how frustrating.

i do have a consolation prize however... i'm out of here in 28 days. in 28 days i get to tell them, "peace out bitches." and, here's the vain and selfish part... pieces of me will get some morbid satisfaction knowing my office will fall to pieces as soon as i've left the threshold of the building for the last time. some pieces... mostly, however, i truly hope that someone with some very large feet can fill these shoes. i don't want it to fall apart. i don't want them to fail. i just want them to know that they'd taken me for granted. that's a silly desire... but it still exists.

and, on a completely different note... i'm in a terrible state of missing today. i can't get out of it. it's definitely got my cranky level up. the rain and my lack of desire to do any work is making the days drag. i want my love now. i do not wish to wait, but i know he's worth it. i feel like i'm just sitting around waiting for my new life to begin.

2010-02-04T18:01:00.000-08:00

you know what's the most tragic part of not believing in god? knowing that in the end, all you have is your memories. all you have left when you die is knowledge of your own actions. there is no god left to judge you. understanding that and really putting it into perspective is damn near devastating, which i suppose, is why many feel the need to believe in god. i will not fall prey to this safety net. the only one left after i'm gone to judge me will be me, if i even have any sort of consciousness.

i have little fits sometimes. i burst into tears. they are currently streaming the mascara down my cheeks. these little moments of feeling like i'm the only one who knows me are so fucking terrifying. i type it out, scream it out, sometimes, and cry it out. in the end i force myself to see that it's ok if that's how it ends up. afterall, everyone can say what they want about me and in the end, i'll know which rumor is truth. i know that i have to trust that i present myself as me and that i like me. other people may not, but i do. i know a few other people that also like me.i also know that some people may not see the same person i see in the mirror. but, that's to be expected, right? i mean... no one knows what it's like when i'm alone. no one knows if i pick my nose or fart loudly. no one. so, it would be impossible for anyone to know my true intentions. i can only try to convey them and i am saddened if they are misread. but, i can't force it.

even though i do not have my own god to judge me at my death, i am my own judge. i am my own jury and i know how i've conducted myself. i know the things of which i'm regretful and proud. i know the person i need to be even though i do not have consequence hanging over my head. i answer for my sins only to me.

i won't let someone else make me a monster. i won't let you get me to hate. so, i will try to listen to my mother when she told me, "You can't worry about what other people think." she is wise indeed.

2010-01-28T20:26:00.000-08:00

"the Simpsons" and "friends" are both very funny shows. both feature or featured lovable characters and heart warming relationships. i watched them both. "friends" only lasted seven or so seasons and "the Simpsons" will likely hit 20 before its cancellation (if it hasn't already).

"the Simpsons" is a cartoon, which allows its characters to remain indefinitely unchanged. no matter how stupid Homer acts or how many pigs he adopts to walk on the ceiling, Marge cleans up hoof prints and still loves him. she always takes him back no matter how stupid an act he committed. the kids never grow old, the family always stays together and the comedy never changes.

"friends" had the human factor, which is by nature flawed. everything changed constantly. we weren't happy with the show without controversy and change. but, the show ended because change was unavoidable. the characters MUST grow. the writers didn't have a choice. the characters had to both grow and remain. how complicated? i believe that is why there was always an understanding that Chandler would end up with Monica and Ross with Rachel. it was foreshadowed in the first episode and it was such in the very last. so, they changed constantly, but remained constant in the end. like i said, complicated.

so, for one show change MUST occur and the other change was impossible yet both shows were successful. but, the one that removed change from the equation remains successful. i can only ponder why, but i suppose it's because our society needs happy endings. each episode is, for the most part, a happy ending. they start off a family, there is controversy that Bart or Homer creates, then all is well in the end. they accomplish that in 30 minutes! well, probably 24 minutes to include time for commercials. it's idealized perfectly for endurance. it's what we all want. we all want love and life that is enduring and everlasting. the promise of it in a crude cartoon gives us love, life and laughter hidden inside suggestive and dirty jokes.

the creator of that show is a fucking genius.

i hope the change i'm about to make is one that was previously outlined for me. i don't like to believe i don't have control over my own fate. however, i like to think i would have bumped into my knight, whom i love dearly, regardless of location or time. i think i'm as close to "meant to be" as one might ever dare to dream. i'm putting my eggs in this basket and i'm asking that they never rot. when i say it like that, it sounds like a long shot. but, why does it feel like i am on a business trip now and i'm just waiting to go home?

2010-01-13T21:49:00.000-08:00

i am an attention whore.

that dawned on me as i attempted to drift off to sleep tonight. i am an attention whore. i don't require attention from random passing persons, but when it comes to my loved ones... mother, sisters, friends, or lover i require a lot of attention.

i haven't decided how much of a character flaw this is yet; i am just aware of its existence now.

heart-mending

2010-01-05T08:16:00.000-08:00

i remember thinking, more than half a year ago, "this is going to be hard." i was referring to mending a broken heart. it was so difficult in the past... i remember the emotional and physical pain as if it happened only a year ago and not a decade. the rotting my stomach felt is pain that can never be forgotten. i expected and was prepared to be obliterated. i thought my heart would be broken in every sense of the word. i wasted time with someone who was uninterested in building anything... he was only interested in burning everything. what a waste.

but, on the way to work today i thought, wait... to say i wasted time may not be accurate. i could have definitely been spending the time in more productive and constructive ways, but it cannot be altered now. it's better to look at the lessons learned rather than life lost... and the lessons will not be wasted on me. and i will live a fuller life because of it. so, maybe i've only gained. i do not think of what i lost anymore. so, it was more of a heart-mending. i don't think i had ever recovered from my first heart break... even if i have now, i'm not sure. i do know though, that what i thought was going to occur did not. and now, my second love only helped me recover from my first. out of the other side i've come... not a bruised and frightened girl but, rather, a positive and proud woman. i know now, more than ever, who i am and what i want. i really think that will only continue to develop. i may never fully understand me, but i have more tools for the dissection of my own mind and emotions and i'll practice with them everyday. my third love will only be stronger and will benefit from my past. i won't let him suffer for what others have done. it will be the love of my life.

i'm hopeful... not regretful.

the point of life i may never know... but it has to include LIVING it in there some where. this is what I intend to do and i'm going to love as much and as hard as i can.

2009-12-27T21:17:00.000-08:00

sometimes irrationality washes over me. it's so frustrating to look in the mirror and ask, "what is wrong with you?" and not have the answer. i act so strangely. i hate not having an answer when a sincere, "is everything ok?" is asked. i hate it. i feel as though i don't explain myself well. that's so freaking frustrating. i search myself for answers to inquiring eyes. i want to give them so badly, but my lips come out empty.

irrationality. that's usually the answer, but it's a shitty reason. shouldn't i be able to never have that problem? i mean, i acknowledge that it's there, see it happening and feel it approaching, yet i can do nothing to stop it. i can temper it after it's arrived, but i can't shut it out completely. i should have more control than that over myself. i should have an interrupt. i need a remote... universal, which would control all my emotions both happy and sad. a mute button, channel switch and pause are all things that might come in handy.

but, alas... i don't have such a remote. nor do i have understanding, entirely, of my emotions. i hope that it's ok. i know that others won't understand it either, so i'll have to deal with some rejection. some, however, will love me for my flaws. i just hope that i can be one of those people.

2009-12-15T21:30:00.000-08:00

it hasn't been all that long, but i feel like i've been living without you for a decade.

Love + Condition = False Love

2009-12-13T01:03:00.000-08:00

i will love you when:

-i'm gloriously happy
-you bring me flowers
-you love me
-the sun is shining
-nothing breaks down
-all chores are done
-everything is perfect

i will love you when all conditions are prime and everything is perfect you will have all my love. i will be smiling and happy and everything with seem like heaven. i will love you when those conditions are met.

i will love you when:

-you don't feel well
-i am grumpy
-i can't have all of your attention
-we can't decide on dinner
-you say the wrong thing
-our pasts get in the way
-you forget the milk, don't take out the trash, fall asleep while i'm talking, steal the covers and snore... because you are tired.

i will love you when all of these conditions are met. i will love you all the time. things will never be perfect.

my love knows nothing of fleeting.
my heart knows nothing of conditional.

i will love you:

-always.

i found myself in accidental search of you.

2009-12-06T21:14:00.000-08:00

it's good to feel deserving. i don't really know why i ever felt less than worthy. i know i can't have everything i want... but, dammit, i'm getting close. love has always driven me. i've given up a lot of me for things other men wanted or needed. i don't want that to be a condition of someone's love for me again. it's a bit of a catch, though. i mean, i don't want to be expected to sacrifice for someone else and if i don't, be ridiculed for it. and, at the same time, if my lover really is my lover, then he will want to sacrifice for me and, in turn, i'll want to give everything to him. although no sacrifice will be necessary. we'll be gaining so much more than either would lose.

i want to make you so happy... and it's partly a result of how happy you want to make me... how happy you MAKE me. i can't wait until i can get to the business of being blissful with you. i want not to worry about time tables. i want only to be... happy. no need to marry or make public proclamations (although, i want the world to know); i don't think it will be difficult to discern from the outside.

i don't ask Fate questions anymore. i don't care to determine where you came from or where you've been. i only care that you are here. and i want to revel in the present in the future... everyday. i can't wait to get there. i'll keep my patience under control as often as possible. my skin longs to know yours so badly that my fingers explode at the thought of being on your cheek.

/sigh.

soon.

unpublished insecurity

2009-12-02T20:21:00.000-08:00

i struggle with insecurity a lot. there are no reasons for this pesky emotion? idea? i'm not sure how it is defined. i'd have to look it up but for the sake of sincerity in this post, i won't until i've concluded it. i've had so much time to do something different... so much wasted time. but, i sit with malcontent in my office glaring at the back of my bosses head. even in a mindless job such as this, i am insecure. i'm focused on the lack of appreciation. i do not know why. why do i care if this man i do not respect... who does not respect me... gives a rat's ass about what i do on my down time? i don't know. insecurity. i need praise even from the weakest of people because he is the only one there to give me that praise.

instead... it's things like this:

Me: (muffled and under my breath cause it wasn't meant for another's ears) "my pants are pissing me off."

Him: "Take 'em off."

SERIOUSLY.

that's not the only example i can give. i have this overwhelming ~~desire~~ need for you to look at me. i'm aware it's not always rational. i'm not sure it will go away. i love the feeling too much. when you look at me, i feel a soft burn. it feel so good and i am satiated. when you look away, i have a sad place in my heart, and i am immediately in need of your attention again. greedy. yes, greedy i am. needy? maybe. i don't know. i'm not angry. just greedy. i want more of what makes me feel good. and you make my heart catch fire; my ribs might melt any moment from the steam rising. i'm not so sure this is insecurity... maybe it's just greediness. who knows. i'm in no place to determine. i do know, it feels crazy wonderful and a bit terrifying. i don't want to ever loose those feelings.

___________________________________________

2/12/09: (i hated this time; i was trying so hard... and i was working toward nothing)

"your heart pulses swiftly,

hidden and discrete."

8/4/09: (i want so exposed at this time.)

"i think i've been free failing for long enough. i've kept my eyes closed and prayed desperately to no one for a soft landing. it doesn't feel as spontaneous and exhilarating as one might think.

i just want to be trusted."

both short posts i've never published. insecurity. i don't know why i was so insecure. i knew the object of my subject would never read them. he never read my writings. he didn't care. maybe that was it? maybe i need him to read because i couldn't tell him how i felt. i know there are more unpublished. some are much longer. more words never said aloud... but said to a blank piece of paper that would not judge or criticize. i think that's key for me... to be able to yell at someone, and not have them yell back.

at any rate, it's just more insecurity. more insecurity that i'd like to overcome some how. i think you'll help me with that... even without trying. with your smoldering stare and generous glances i get a bit to warm me up... keep me company until you get here. i love the way you say, "babe." Gah. I love it.

i.am.bubbling.over.with.excitement.

my love knows nothing of fleeting

2009-11-22T18:00:00.000-08:00

my heart rests
and waits.
patient.
no anxious beating-
my love knows nothing
of fleeting.
enraptured by the hand
stroking my cheek,
with a certain savoring affection,
reality seems to intrude,
the flaming fear in my eyes meets
the calm satiating burn, in yours,
reluctance is sucked away in a moment's blink.
the blue pulsing my veins
reddens,
and so proceeds
inevitable glorious falling.

2009-11-21T15:33:00.000-08:00

i feel like i have a ton of bricks on my chest. it's a sweet sorrow. i miss you and it hurts a little sometimes. i miss you. and, i've never touched you. such a strange feeling to me. said three times... i miss you.

2009-11-19T07:09:00.000-08:00

the older i get, the more i understand myself. i've always noted my bad habits or character traits and thought, "my mom used to do that." i've tried hard to work on these things that make me like my mother... these things i despise. and, i believe i've accomplished some growth. life is pointless without growth. one of these bad habits is negativity. negativity to include only recording the things i hate about myself... about her. there are so many things i do and like to do because they are my mother's good habits. i try to find the good in me and my mom. she's beautiful and kind. she's giving, hard working, understanding, funny and forgiving. my fingers just had to pause and brush away a tear because i can't help but let the joy flow when i think of her. she's wonderful with all her faults because they are heavily out weighed by her strengths. i can only hope i am more like her everyday and try to get there. she is not something to be avoided, but to be adored. i need to call her today and tell her these things. i'm certain i'd get two words out and the rest would be jumbled by sobs... which, she would still understand.

all this and more are things for which i'm thankful.

______________________________________________________

at any time in my life, i can be defined by so few words. the words are different much of the time... but they are always simple.

Write You A Letter- Ray LaMontagne

If I told you how I'm feeling
And how my heart was always reeling
Then maybe you could understand me a little better
If I was to write you a letter

And if I told you how I worry
Isn't how I always seem to hurry
And maybe you would understand me a little better
If I was to write you a letter

2009-11-18T22:39:00.000-08:00

fate... you are not subtle. you are trying to tell me something. you are screaming. i'm all ears.

2009-11-17T07:33:00.000-08:00

because my hands cannot be,
my thoughts are all over you.
i close my eyes to reveal
short films of fantasy,
replaying for my pleasure,
every tender caress.
and
mentioned
gesture.

closed tight over my eyes
my palms preserve desire.
casings of love's prize,
saved later for fire.

with
perseverating imagination
and reluctant reality,
i stand back from day dreams,
and wait for their coming,

and, as always,
because my hands cannot be,
my thoughts are all over you.

2009-11-13T23:13:00.000-08:00

THEN
intention. how do we measure intention? fucking impossible. if you are uncertain of someone's intentions, chances are, they aren't good. it's so unfair. you are asking for all the perks... but not willing to pay the price, which doesn't even matter anymore because i don't want it. i don't want anything that comes with a price tag. i am here because you don't have anyone else? why? WHERE the fuck was all this emotion? i don't know, still, what you want. "silence is" your "self-defense". you are a mystery to me.

NOW
intention. ours are the same. love. ours is the same. we are so due.. so fucking due to feel this way... to be felt feeling this way. we want to scream about it. our walls are raised, we let one another inside, shut them behind. they aren't locked, but they require a secret pass code. you have mine; i have yours. it's not a combination that will change every 15 days. once obtained, the key never changes. communication, expression, and honesty are our offense. when i know your eyes in mine, the future becomes the present and we live in it, always... happily.

2009-11-11T20:19:00.000-08:00

feeling. FEELING these emotions are things i've been waiting for... all my life. i was not aware of the things i REALLY wanted and needed. growth is a tremendous feeling. i'm learning so many things. self worth is the most important. i have loved, and lost. i've had friends i've lost. it's all very sad. these people are not easily forgotten. i'm learning to deal with grief. not internally... but not outwardly either. i'm learning where to find solace. i'm learning about the people that matter. i'm learning how to hold on to those people. i'm just learning. and it's a great feeling. i feel liberated. i'm overjoyed with excitement for my future. it can hold so many things... great things. my most important goal? that when people meet me... get to know me... they REALLY know me. no one will be mistaken of who i am. i have no desire to be mysterious. no more will i bend and shift. i am who i am... and, shit, i like me. i'm happy.

Please

2009-11-10T23:22:00.000-08:00

please don't leave,
i wanna wake up with you,
and snuggle while the sun rises,
reminisce and smile about the night before,
hide our morning breath with closed kisses.
i wanna whine when you get up for work,
pull you back into bed and beg for just
five
more
minutes.

please stay with me.
i want to pretend it's night all over again,
make love in the morning's light,
so i can see your face, and you mine,
while the sun's rays peak off your chest,
and highlight your eyes.
leave the window open,
so breezes will intensify the chills you
already give me.

no, please don't go.
i wanna rest my head on your soft skin
and share our fears through tears,
while fighting my heavy eyes,
just to hear you drift off.
stretching, i'll feel you hogging the bed
and tugging at the way too small covers.

please, please, stay here.
i want to tell you the stories in my head
from the night's dreams and mares.
fall asleep as you stroke my stomach and hair,
feel your breath on my neck
and skin against mine.
your heart pounds with every inhale.
time pauses as
you
exhale.

i can't stand it when you leave.
it gets so lonely on your side of the bed.
i enclose myself in pillows
and pretend it's you i'm clinging to.
but i can't sleep missing you.
can't we just pretend
like there's no one else to please,
and we have eternity trapped in a box,
and time's all we've got...

please don't leave.
i wanna wake up with you.

2009-11-08T19:00:00.001-08:00

in afternoon
when breezes are stiff
and sweet blooms
hibernate and drift,

i await new destinations
and break old ideas,
while birds exhaust pollination.
a gust soft lifts my hair,
and sets it back down.
my emotions are bare,
and my sorrows drown.

i rest my hands on my knees
and pretend,
i'm dried leaves
waiting on the wind

2009-11-05T15:50:00.000-08:00

i'm beginning to understand me now. every realization can be credited to all the people in my life... those who have hurt me, those i've hurt, those who love me, and those i wish would. i'm done trying to be the perfect girlfriend. i'm done trying. i am who i am and i'm pretty sure i'm not liked by all. and, i'm ok with that. i don't want to be disliked, but i just can't up and change me to suit you. that's the reality. neither of us is wrong... but together, we aren't right. just reality. we teach our children to love themselves as they are and it usually refers to their appearance. well, i'm extending concept to personality. i like me. there are plenty of people who also like me. i'll be me while you be you. my growth will be self induced. and, in the spirit of self-reflection and commitment, i'll put some things on paper.

things i want to/am working on:
-stop censoring myself
-have less road rage.
-go back to school and stop making excuses why i can't
-write more
-pay more attention to Lucy
-connect with my family more
-write more
-write more

i could probably spend years making that list and rightfully so. i hope i never think i'm through growing personally. that would be arrogant. i want, however, to start really believing i can be happy just as i am. that someone will be happy with me, just as i am.

and still,
i'm a bucket of hope.
i'll let it splash and sprinkle
everyone.
i'll share it.
no one should be without it. Hope.

heartbreak habit

2009-11-04T21:02:00.001-08:00

he is flawed in all the right ways.
speaking of his shortcomings as progression,
not disadvantage.
he smiles as they present themselves
in everyday fashion.
he records it behind his eyes for future
reflection.

"fear doesn't belong," he sighs, "in this heartbreak habit"
his eyes are buried deep in memory.
fighting the urge to look away, he fidgets with his hands.
he breathes deep and kisses me.

"one more step in transformation," he exhales softly,
my face still, in his hands; his eyes open, in my heart.
"i won't be perfect, but i'll come close if you help me.
each blunder made together erases with a restart."

he puts his palm against my own,
sweetly grasped.
we step into each other's worlds,
reservations cast.

he is
perfectly.flawed.

2009-11-01T08:55:00.000-08:00

is it possible to miss someone you haven't met?

nature vs. nurture

2009-11-01T00:28:00.000-07:00

i have every reason to run, to shut down, to guard myself, or to just simply... not try. but i don't. that's not ME. everything that has happened in life suggests that i would be an emotionally barred person... distant and empty. nurture would demand it. nurture would say "every man will leave you." this has been method. traditionally... men leave me. i've known only one to stay.

nurture would suggest otherwise what nature forces. i am not emotionally barred. my heart is fluid. it beats with your every breath. it's bated. it's stifled... it's impatient waiting for you to be you. it's tired. my heart hurts for her own reality. it's hurts for my object to overcome me. but i wait... i wait with my nature in silence, my emotions in solace, my heart in chains... it's not me. my nature is giving, loving, showing, sharing... it's not waiting.

i just don't know where i am anymore. i'm stuck in a place i don't welcome. i'm so unhappy.

i believe my nurture would have shut me down. my nature helps me to understand that a broken heart is another emotion. another emotion that i am capable of overcoming.

i can mend and move on. i will... just fucking tell me to do it. and i will.

fuck.

potential requires opportunity

2009-10-31T10:54:00.001-07:00

i am breathing heavily, and the sighs are often... impressive and beautiful is potential. there is so much possibility in potential. my skin sighs as i imagine the possibility. with every inhale i'm more excited, yet slightly distraught with my exhales. they are long, drawn out... as is this possibility. it can be productive or destructive. it's resting in the hands of no one. it's difficult to control. uncontrollably. infinite. possibility.

potential requires opportunity. i want the excitement that comes with potential. and the tenderness that comes with opportunity. i want so many things. i'm greedy. i'm slightly needy.
timing. it's really all about timing. i grow impatient with possibility. it's result is slower than i'd prefer. i want things now. i want to live in the now... but, possibility leaves me waiting for tomorrow constantly. constantly. i try diligently to control my anxiety. but, there are times when my skin is on fire and i can't sit still. i pace. my mind paces. and when satisfaction comes... i want more of it. i'm satisfied with constant satisfaction. does that mean i'm never pleased? definitely not. it means i want more of what i'm getting. i think i've said before... that's the point. to want more and more of this one thing that makes me happy. if i stop wanting it then it's time to leave. i want the pain in my cheeks that comes from a permanent smile.

i want i want i want... but, what do you want? as always, it's part of my desire to know.
________________________________________

i don't believe in fate. i don't believe that a path has been laid for me. i wouldn't be comfortable with the lack of control that denotes. so, if i have no path, i'm much like a shooting star. life is much like that. a human being is beautiful... we are born from elements. we shine and shimmer and have our glory. we crash beautifully to the ground in a blaze without direction. so, "all we are, are shooting stars.." then, "love and tenderness" are priority. emotions and actions that cause joy to us and their chosen targets. how important? to feel real joy. real love. to give it in return, another wonder not to be neglected or taken for granted.

i'm rambling.

Shooting Stars- Edwin McCain

Maybe this life is just about love and tenderness
If all we are are shooting stars

We keep our love in a plain brown box
We keep it tied with a simple lock
We hold it close 'cause it's all we got
You'd think it's ordinary but it's not

In a world that's starting to fade
A little love could pave the way
Don't keep it tied with the simple lock
You'd think it's ordinary but it's not

Maybe this life is just about love and tenderness
If all we are are shooting stars
Maybe we, we can fight
All of this pain and loneliness if
All we are are shooting stars

Tired of hearing 'bout the bling-bling
We're so concerned with material things
It's all cars and diamond rings
And do you think it's gonna to ease your sting

Cause that's a hole that you can't fill
Velvet rope overkill
Free your mind let your heart sing
And just remember that they're only things...

Maybe this life is just about love and tenderness
If all we are are shooting stars
Maybe we, we can fight
All of this pain and loneliness if
All we are are shooting stars

I used to live by the minutes
I was too blind to see
Now I've found the strength to admit it
Now it's all I believe
Please

Maybe this life is just about love and tenderness
If all we are are shooting stars
Maybe we, we can fight
All of this pain and loneliness if
All we are are shooting stars

sleep is evil

2009-10-25T21:13:00.000-07:00

sleep. sleep eludes me on numerous occasions. i can never seem to get there no matter how tired i am. i spend about 30 minutes tweaking a play list... then, another ten arranging the pillows to where it doesn't feel like i'm alone. then, my mind starts to do forceful dreaming or awake dream as i like to call it. i go through so my different scenarios. sometimes i think about awful things and i'm not certain the reason. this can last an hour or more. then, if i finally do fall asleep, my mind is forced into dreams i can't control. sometimes they wake me. sometimes they confuse me even more. sometimes they wake me and i don't remember them... just that i wanted to be out of them. so if they wake me this whole cycle starts again!!! GAH! i just need some rest.

i don't get enough rest.

2009-10-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

he carries his tears in a bucket.
careful not to splash it.
it's heavy. it's weighed him down.
but, he won't share the burden.
he's prideful.
he is alone.
______________________________

Del Amitri- Tell Her This

Tell her not to go
I ain't holding on no more
Tell her something in my mind freezes up from time to time

Tell her not to cry
I just got scared that's all
Tell her I'll be by her side, all she has to do is call
All she has to do is call

Tell her the chips are down
I drank too much and shouted it aloud
Tell her something in my heart
Needs her more than even clowns need the laughter of the crowd

Tell her what was wrong
I sometimes think to much
But say nothing at all
And tell her from this high terrain, I am ready now to fall
I am ready now to fall

Tell her not to go
I ain't holding on no more
Tell her nothing if not this; all I want to do is kiss her

Tell her something in my mind
Freezes up from time to time.

2009-10-21T07:25:00.000-07:00

i want, so bad, for someone to be crazy about me. i deserve, don't i? is this worth waiting for? does he love me? is he CRAZY about me? i want to know what he feels like. i want to feel what it's like when someone is all about you... crazy for you... can't wait to talk to you, see you, hug you... i want to know what that's like. i wanna feel it.

if he's not crazy about me... then what the fuck am i doing?

2009-09-29T13:26:00.000-07:00

i hate the taste of tears.
they bubble in my eyes.
and burn cuts on my face.
black rain drops
streak my cheeks.
they reach the corners
of my mouth and sneak in.
i hate the taste of sadness.

2009-09-22T20:59:00.000-07:00

the words i write are not intended to manipulate. why do i feel this is somehow their undesired result? is my "gift" of written word not that at all? but a rather sharp weapon guilty of unintentional sabotage? i can force someone to see something they would otherwise refuse. then, minds are changed... feelings hurt, possibly. and lives altered. no, not intended. the intended is inspiration... thought provocation. phrases like "what are you thinking?" are attempts to collect said hopeful inspiration. however, feedback is not necessary, but no doubt, welcome. i often pause in conversation in an effort to find proper words to express myself. this only fills my own need to be heard and surely not some conscious plot to extract the answer i want... right? i don't know who i'm asking. i don't think i'll get answer... this, this is an answer i'd like to know. it is not a random question posed to no one. it is also not intended for one single soul. still, i don't bate my breath for a response.

a life alone is not a life at all, it seems.
_______________________________

i've yet to decypher the meaning in the song, but i find it sad and beautiful. the music... erotic and sensitive.

Closer- Kings of Leon

Stranded in this spooky town
Stoplight is swaying and the phone lines are down
Snow is crackling cold
She took my heart, I think she took my soul
With the moon I run
Far from the carnage of the fiery sun

Driven by the strangle of vain
Showing no mercy I'd do it again
Open up your eyes
You keep on crying
Baby I'll bleed you dry
Skies are blinking at me
I see a storm bubbling up from the sea

And it's coming closer
And it's coming closer

You shimmy-shook my boat
Leaving me stranded all in love on my own
Do you think of me
Where am I now
Baby where do I sleep
Feels so good but I'm old
2000 years of chasing taking its toll

And it's coming closer
And it's coming closer
And it's coming closer
And it's coming closer

save me

2009-09-10T12:27:00.001-07:00

i often sing this song in the car or at home. i listen to the words and imagine who they apply to... who would i save? and, on the way to work today, i realized i ought to be singing in front of a mirror. i want so badly to be saved by someone. i need to rescue myself.

Save You- Kelly Clarkson

I can tell
I can tell how much you hate this
And deep down inside you know it's killing me
I can call wish you well and try to change this
But nothing I can say would change anything

Where were my senses?
I left them all behind
Why did I turn away?
Away

I wish I could save you
I wish I could say to you
I'm not going nowhere
I wish I could say to you
It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be alright

Didn't mean
Didn't mean to leave you stranded
Went away cause I didn't want to face the truth
Reaching out
Reach for me
Empty handed
You don't know if I care
You're trying to find the proof

There were times I'd wonder
Could I have eased your pain?
Why did I turn away?
Away

I wish I could save you
I wish I could say to you
I'm not going nowhere
I wish I could say to you
It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be alright
Save you
It's gonna be alright
I wish I could save you

We can pretend nothing's changed
Pretend it's all the same
And there will be no pain
Tonight

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be alright
Save you

It's gonna be alright
I wish I could save you
I'm not going nowhere
I wish I could say to you
It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be alright
Save you
It's gonna be alright
I wish I could save you
It's gonna be alright

2009-09-07T18:04:00.000-07:00

trust. i just want to be trusted. i'm not. instead... emotions are censored and overdone as they are released to me. my emotions are raw, irrational at times and real.

which is the sin?

shaping your thoughts to fit into a perfect safe emotional box? editing your feelings so that no one ever sees you? i mean REALLY sees you?

or, honest and often expression of true feeling? it might be irrational at times, but it's most important trait is honesty. the best part... everyone knows how i feel. could also be seen as the worst part. but, i can't spend my entire life being scared for someone to see me... really see me. i'm more terrified that i will never be seen.

so, i'll put myself out there. i'll make sure i'm not terrified of everyone the rest of my life. i'll trust others with my heart. and, if it gets broken, i'll mend it.

2009-08-02T20:12:00.001-07:00

Q: Tell me something about yourself that you wouldn't tell most people.

A: I don't miss my dad. I know I ought to miss him or have some resentment built up against him, but I don't. At least, I don't think I do. I can't pinpoint any if I sit down and think long and hard about it. I know there is a fundamental life skill I'm lacking because he was not in my life for very long... but, never having known this function has allowed me never to miss it. I'm sure my life is affected by the absence of a male figure in the household or whatever... But, what it is, I don't know. I do know that I would have loved him. I do know that I would miss loving him when he died. Of that I'm sure because I've known love. If it's known me is another question. If it's aware... if it breathes, I do believe so, but would not assume it has breathed my name. So, the first love from a man a girl experiences has not been in my life. I guess I've never been certain of the signs of a man's love. Maybe that's what I'm lacking?

So, if asked my answer would be "No." I do not miss my father. But, I miss what I never knew: His Love.

2009-07-30T07:44:00.000-07:00

I'm more needy on certain days... like when it rains. It's somber drizzle, for some reason, makes the amount tenderness I need increase. It also increases my sensitivity to the lack of it.

I'm not sure there is a solution to this problem. How frustrating.

insatiable

2009-06-02T09:28:00.000-07:00

i don't think my lips have ever been happier and insatiable. i can't get enough hugs or kisses... enough smiles or heavy sighs. i can't listen to enough heart beats. because, they are all limited. the number i'm allotted is not as high as i would like. although, i'm sure my heart would never be satisfied. that's the point, isn't it? to ALWAYS want these things from this one individual? when you stop wanting them, well, it's time to find what you want elsewhere, i guess. i'm not there yet. i'm still in the category of desire... uncontrollable, inconsolable desire. i long for long hugs and soft kisses... when i have them and when i don't. i hope to always have this desire. it's exhausting and exciting. it's frustrating and facinating. it's glorious. my eyes beam luminous and my heart soars in and out of "cloud 9". i don't ever want those feelings to go away. i love them.

i'm not really patient

2009-05-15T08:31:00.000-07:00

i am patient
of your unspoken observation
and readiness to be weak.

like dried leaves in fall
waiting for a breeze.

like tall blades of grass
in spring,
enjoying morning's dew.

i am patiently awaited
by my heart's faint pulse,
for your wall's short release.

like a landed snowflake
rejoycing its last moments
before melting.

like skin's sweat in a hot gust,
revealing a drought.

i am patient
with bated breath,
waiting for the wind's sigh.

i am impatiently patient.

2009-04-29T12:04:00.000-07:00

i'm a fucking catch. maybe. maybe not. maybe i'm a hands full basket case. but, i think i'm a fucking catch. i think, now... it's time i be proud of me rather than waiting for everyone else to fucking care to walk beside me. i'm too old to just be figuring this out... but hey, never thought i'd live this long anyway. everyday i'm thankful i can walk, talk and have food in my stomach and hair on my head. if someone else doesn't see the glow in me... in the words of my mom "fuck 'em." it's time i saw it. it's more important for me to see it anyway. i'm sick of all this wasted fear in me. i'm sick of waiting for something to happen to me.

i'm fucking sick of all my fucking excuses.

how many times can i say "fucking" in one post?

maybe someday, when i believe, others will believe it too. i'm kind, caring, considerate, intelligent, funny, and just. believe it, [insert my name here], and they will too.

walls aren't worth it

2009-04-21T11:33:00.000-07:00

foolishly and pointlessly, i built walls around my heart. i thought they were made tough of steel and tall as mountains. i thought its heights were unscaled. i thought they would keep me safe. with my false sense of security i ventured out, unaware of my frailty. my stupid walls were actually, and thankfully, made of cheap plywood you'd by at the dollar store... particle board or composite wood is a more fitting description and probably stronger than my makeshift construction. turns out... what i thought would keep me safe crippled me... what i thought would cripple me... saved me.

it doesn't matter the outcome. it's worth it. i deserve such extreme emotion whether it leaves me blissful or devastated. i never want to live my life trapped inside invisible barriers. the longer i try to keep people out... the harder it becomes to let them in. i'm certain someone has said that before. i'm just glad i was saved before i was lost. i'll always keep a cautious heart... but it will be open and always loving.

walls aren't worth it.

Kindly Unspoken- Kate Voegele

As high as the moon
So high were my spirits
When you sang out my name

And coming from you
It was enough just to hear it
Oh, it rang like the bells did today

But even the sturdiest ground
Can shift and can tremble and let us fall down

Kindly unspoken
You show your emotion
The silence speaks louder than words
It’s lucky I’m clever
If I didn’t know better
I’d believe only that which I’d heard

In the days of my folly
I followed your lead
I did what Simon said to do

But I won’t let melancholy
Play me for a fool
Oh, no I’m on my way somewhere new

And as far as your lack of something to say
Well, tell me goodbye there was no better way

Kindly unspoken
You show your emotion
The silence speaks louder than words
It’s lucky I’m clever
If I didn’t know better
I’d believe only that which I’d heard

Well don’t keep me up till the dawn
With those words that’ll keep leading me on
Well I know much better than to wait for an answer from you

Kindly unspoken
You show your emotion
And silence speaks louder than words
It's lucky I’m clever
If I didn’t know better
I’d believe only that which I’d heard

honest irrationality

2009-04-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

just as a rose is a rose... i am girl. i am a girl and as such have irrational emotions at times. a girl irrationally gives her heart away. think about it... it's not logical or sane to give away the thing that literally beats your life. and i am definitely not the settling kind of girl. not anymore. i know what it's like to love... i know what it's like to not love. i prefer the former. even if it's alone. even if my romantic delusions leave me alone and wanting... i prefer the former. it's funny how you cannot convince the unloving of the wonderment of love. it's not that they have never loved either... just when you don't feel it... you don't feel it. it's impossible to make someone understand your feelings. they can only be sympathetic. but, they will never feel them. never. that's not... negative. it's just honest. this girl has to be more honest with herself. she needs to know that love is not 50/50... it's 100/100 or it's not at all. i often neglect my own emotions. i internalize a lot. i zip my lips far too much. i'm trying to get better.

the tears that drip down my cheek now are not sadness... but burning realization of my frail humanity.

A flower doesn't turn toward the sun because it needs to, but because it wants to, and so the process is effortless and joyful.

2009-04-08T06:44:00.000-07:00

cupid has poison tipped arrows.

too sad to love

2009-04-07T09:09:00.000-07:00

my lover leaves his hurt on a shelf.
its half life longer than eternity.
he's too sad to love.

his vague saddness contorts reality,
and cluttered tears flow.
he's too scared to love.

the drip from his chin
burns my forehead.
he's too strong to hurt.

his expressions of self-realization,
mumble through often and honest sobs.
my daze of our relation,
quietly tumults in heavy sighs.

my love is on an idle shelf.
it's too desperate to hide.
it's too irrational not to cry.
it's too strong to ignore.
it can't sit still.

but, he's too sad to love.
he's too scared for patience.
his lips are too sealed.
his emotion is too controlled.

and
my heart is on my sleeve ripping
one beat at a time.

happy = i smile more than i frown

2009-04-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

there is so much up and down... the cliche that life is like a roller coaster is far too true to deny. i'd like to come up with my own witty and profound quote on life being like a box of chocolates or whatever... but there are too many and i don't deem myself to be one of the greats. i'll settle for the bits already in circulation...

anyway... it really is... life, both unexpected and expected. i'm predictable but unstable sometimes. but, it seems, these are things about me i must accept. life will never be completely figured out... and i think i can be okay with it. i can learn to breathe more deeply and less hastily. i'm learning to slow myself.

i'm happy... but, being happy doesn't always mean things are perfect or as good as it gets. it just means i smile more than i frown.

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings." Anais Nin

me, myself & I

2009-03-30T11:11:00.000-07:00

a battle has begun. there is no clear idea of who declared it... but, war has been waged. me is arguing with I and I is plotting against me. myself, is stuck in the middle unable to determine its own location. it's a quiet battle, mostly. sometimes I gets hurt... me gets bruised... but, always myself is conflicted. where does this girl side? where do i find peace? where is a safe place for me? how do i finally know myself?

how fucking confusing is that?

i'd like to think that each day i present a better version of me. but, who knows? one of my biggest flaws... i don't trust myself. i never believe me. self-introspection is healthy, yes? in excess though... people get lost. and i'm lost. i'm stuck between terrifying and terrifying. who the fuck knows where that is? i sure don't. i have such a long way to go. i only hope those i care about most... understand they're flawed just the same. I hope they are by my side as i stumble down the poorly laid brick path in front of me... venturing through doubt and certainty. i don't want to cry. i don't want to be confused. i just want to be happy. i just want happy.

balanced = constant confliction

2009-03-22T19:03:00.000-07:00

i would like to think i know me. introspection is necessary... however, is considered self centered when in excess. but, i'm not sure i could know me if i've not focused a great deal of energy trying to see me. so many people seem to see me clearer than i see myself. they say horrible things. things that i don't want to believe... things i don't want to put weight in. but, the opinions of those i care about have that... weight. so, maybe some ... or all of these things are true. then, i'm devestated. i've tried... or so i thought.. tried to be better... and to find out that it's probably all a lie i've been telling myself... is just that, devestating.

just when i get a small idea of who i might be... who i wanna be... i'm so fucking wrong. balance is so elusive. a solution is even more tricky. how i do i change? how do i adjust? i can be told over and over again all these things i fuck up, but, if i'm not offered a solution by either the object of accusation or myself... it will always be the same. it won't fucking change. maybe i am self-centered... selfish. i do only write of me... mostly. i don't ponder the weight of anyone else's problems. communication is a dance i apparently fail to execute properly.

i feel like... like i don't even know me. like i'm a fucking stranger. i'm harder on me than anyone has ever been... and, for anyone who knows me... knows that's hard. i'm lost... but, lost is a feeling to which i am accustomed. i don't like it... i'm just used to it.

Kelly Clarkson- Already Gone

Remember all the things we wanted,
Now all our memories, they're haunted.
We were always meant to say goodbye.
Even with our fists held high it,
Never would have worked out right, yeah,
We were never meant for do or die.

I didn't want us to burn out
I didn't come here to hurt you now
I can't stop.

I want you to know,
That it doesn't matter
Where we take this road
Someone's gotta go
And i want you to know,
You couldn't have loved me better
But i want you to move on
So i'm already gone.

Looking at you makes it harder,
But i know that you'll find another,
That doesn't always make you wanna cry.
Started with a perfect kiss
Then we could feel the poison set in,
Perfect couldn't keep this love alive.

You know that i love you so
I love you enough to let you go.

I want you to know,
That it doesn't matter,
Where we take this road
Someone's gotta go.
And i want you to know
You couldn't have loved me better,
But i want you to move on
So i'm already gone.

I'm already gone
I'm already gone
You can't make it feel right
When you know that it's wrong
I'm already gone
Already gone.
There's no moving on
So i'm already gone.

Already gone
Already gone
Already gone, oooo, oh
Already gone
Already gone
Already gone, yeah

Remember all the things we wanted,
Now all our memories, they're haunted,
We were always meant to say goodbye.

I want you to know
That it doesn't matter
Where we take this road
Someone's gotta go
And i want you to know
You couldn't have loved me better
But i want you to move on
So i'm already gone

I'm already gone
I'm already gone
You can't make it feel right
When you know that it's wrong
I'm already gone
Already gone
There's no moving on
So i'm already gone...

2009-03-02T09:16:00.000-08:00

closure is an elusive beast. it comes unexpected sometimes. i'm certain not everyone welcomes closure. some people would be content forever lingering and being miserable in the process. i'd like to think i am not one of these people. even though i often have tunnel vision. when my mind is set on something... it is set on that thing alone. i will beat it to death. however, closure is welcome. it is a necessary part of my life. i'm not always eloquent in my speech. i stumble frequently. however, in print i am at my best. still, i lack luster at times, and my point is not always broadcast as well as i'd like. but, i'm better here. on this screen or on paper is where i find myself more often than in verbal conversation.

over the course of the last year my life has changed drastically. and i am happier and better for it. i've learned much about myself that i think will help me to be a more adjusted and kind person. i've also come to learn much about my friends. a few months ago, a friend, who i thought was close to me, broke up with me. he did not see our relationship in the same light as i. it's a shame. it's a very sad ordeal. i've toiled and pined over it for weeks saddened by its loss, i've rolled over events in my head a dozen times... hoping something would magically change because i knew it was out of my hands. it was in his hands. small occurrences led me to believe that friendship was possible. now, i know it is not. it is the opposite.

closure. closure is something i've needed to put it all behind me. he gave me closure. several paragraphs of uncensored emotion... unashamed accusation, and down right hurtful words have given me closure. i will long for his approval no more. i feel very good about it now. i am happy and a friend that doesn't appreciate that is not a friend but in fact someone i do not want to know. i am happy. that is enough for me.

so i will not wrestle with who did what or what could have been done differently... no more. no more wishing words had not been said. it's done. and for that... i thank him.

i'm ok now.

2009-02-19T11:32:00.000-08:00

inaction is negative action. i've repeated this phrase to many of my friends... to my lover. waiting is a thing americans hate to do most... waiting is so very difficult. but, it is necessary sometimes, most times. i fucking hate waiting. i wonder... waiting on others to act... does this leave me being inactive? am i guilty of negative action as well? maybe so. i'm so busy allowing others to be themselves i'm afraid i'll lose myself. i'll forget what i want.

finding that balance between getting everything i want or nothing at all is so hard. words have to be chosen so delicately... because the balance that seperates us or keeps us together is delicate. why is it so hard to say what i want? i used to know. i think. i think i used to know... maybe i've never known. i know a few things i need. and... one of those things, is i need to hear it. dear diary... i need to hear it. it will make it more real. i will feel the sincerity. i will feel it. what's it? i can't even say it... why do i expect someone else to say it? cause i'm a woman. and i'm flawed and imperfect and utterly lost on love. there is no way i'll ever do everything right. i type it for you. but, it's me that needs to hear it. i have to accept that i'll never be perfect. continuing to strive for perfection will only continue to leave me disappointed in myself. sigh.

one more tomorrow

2009-02-12T11:33:00.000-08:00

if i only had one more tomorrow... what would i do? i waste weeks thinking, analyzing every situation, gesture, comment, and expression. weeks... maybe longer. i stare off into space for hours. i sit at my computer screen punching the keys leaving my fingers sore. i put up walls that no human being could ever be expected to scale... i've wasted years on "careful". fuck that.
i waste so much time on maybes and what ifs. i am so fucking wasted. i don't want to be a wasted life... love.

if my allotment of tomorrows ran out... i'd stop thinking. i'd stop analyzing. i wouldn't type my emotions. i would excalim them. i wouldn't hide anything. i'd just do. express everything... i would aim for zero regret. i'd tell the people i love how much i need them. i'd hug my nephews tight, kiss my grandmother, and confess my guilt and let the tears run down my face to my mama. i'd hug my friends. kiss my lover.. i'd never stop talking accept to watch the sunset on my last day. i, more than anyone, should know tomorrow is awesome... and if it never comes, i'll wish i had used today.

2009-02-12T09:24:00.000-08:00

I'm hooked on you
I need a fix
I can't take it
Just one more hit
I promise I can deal with it
I'll handle it, quit it
Just one more time
Then that's it
Just a little bit more to get me through this