your name, a question.
the phrase asked a million times
my answer, still always
the same.
a resounding blank
a tremendous blinking
my response heard by only those who can detect whispers
of songs that carry sound waves in your key.
you ask, how i feel... what i mean to say,
as my only reply is this
my offering laid across your table
my olive branch beneath your head
that as much as i've tried to fight
and wrestle this notion of feeling.
i have tripped,
tumbled,
stumbled,
drowned
fallen
into and over all that is
you.
and if by chance i am able to
catch the weight of my fall
i crawl
walk
sway upon the thought of us.
stopping dead in my tracks
by the leveling of your eyes.
i now realize that
your pull has got me stuck
stranded
sated.
got my breasts swelling, my heart melting,
my thighs aching to be spread
apart
upon this alter
if only for an afterthought
and the chance to be with you.
i can't help that
i
love
everything
about
you.
every piece that melds your form
and makes you you
and all the things that i've yet explored
i know i will love too.
for i don't see or feel the sounds
our songs make when you're not near
the colors that only magnify
life when your lying next to me.
apart... i float through time frozen
till you sing in our frequency.
standing still
waiting
hoping
this isn't a half-hearted
pipe dream drowning me in technicolor.
an empty promise
in a pretty box.
i want an ellipsis in this
an unending sequence
a flowing of words
seamless
abundant
filling me to the brim until there is
no you or i
just us.
a question
an answer
as i await your return.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
thoughts on the weekend. my proverbial hangover
here's what i've learned.....
any type of candy... chocolate, eye candy, or nose candy is probably not the best idea in copious amounts. anything other than lollipops and dancing is a bit too much for my constitution.
that i can listen to the cure all day every day.... for probably the rest of the fall and it will feel like summer all over again.
that awkward circumstances aren't as uncomfortable as the people that involve them... that i thrive on such interactions... nevertheless, it isn't my job to make the apprehensive come around.
that being there doesn't make me any less available.
that she had a better weekend than i did, and i still don't mind.
that my moods are occasionally cyclical.... going in up, down but the shock of this weekend has put me in an emotional stasis.... one of which i am still waiting to absorb.
that hangovers suck... but nothing some water and rest couldn't cure.
that for as much as i don't mind the lack of definitiveness in my life, i'm starting to dislike and almost detest the gray matter that surrounds it.
that i do miss him.
that i don't miss you.
that i don't know or want to know you anymore.
that i'm beginning to understand you and i like what you mean to me.
that you're the best handler i've ever met and i should have taken you up on your proposition... one for which i will be kicking myself in the ass for a million times over.
that maybe she is right. which makes me wrong.
maybe giving up on it all isn't a bad thing.
and that it's time to grow up.
maybe.
any type of candy... chocolate, eye candy, or nose candy is probably not the best idea in copious amounts. anything other than lollipops and dancing is a bit too much for my constitution.
that i can listen to the cure all day every day.... for probably the rest of the fall and it will feel like summer all over again.
that awkward circumstances aren't as uncomfortable as the people that involve them... that i thrive on such interactions... nevertheless, it isn't my job to make the apprehensive come around.
that being there doesn't make me any less available.
that she had a better weekend than i did, and i still don't mind.
that my moods are occasionally cyclical.... going in up, down but the shock of this weekend has put me in an emotional stasis.... one of which i am still waiting to absorb.
that hangovers suck... but nothing some water and rest couldn't cure.
that for as much as i don't mind the lack of definitiveness in my life, i'm starting to dislike and almost detest the gray matter that surrounds it.
that i do miss him.
that i don't miss you.
that i don't know or want to know you anymore.
that i'm beginning to understand you and i like what you mean to me.
that you're the best handler i've ever met and i should have taken you up on your proposition... one for which i will be kicking myself in the ass for a million times over.
that maybe she is right. which makes me wrong.
maybe giving up on it all isn't a bad thing.
and that it's time to grow up.
maybe.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
recollections of the fall.
walking from my car to your door in the cool autumn rain, might have been one of the most beautiful experiences i've had in years. that and.. waking up to the warmth of your eyes.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Addendum: Retracting but Not.
I am retracting my statement on potentially considering the notion of cookies and bartending.
and not because it isn't a viable option or that it isn't what i want....
but in actually its not what i need... at least the moment.
i figure that one day i might come to the conclusion to make a promise... an agreement that is lasting, until then i can unfold, float, wait, until it comes to me...
i figure one day i'll find my own bakery and hide there forever.
until then.
http://ri-kon-dahyt.blogspot.com/2009/10/life-recap-what-she-found-out-last.html
and not because it isn't a viable option or that it isn't what i want....
but in actually its not what i need... at least the moment.
i figure that one day i might come to the conclusion to make a promise... an agreement that is lasting, until then i can unfold, float, wait, until it comes to me...
i figure one day i'll find my own bakery and hide there forever.
until then.
http://ri-kon-dahyt.blogspot.com/2009/10/life-recap-what-she-found-out-last.html
thoughts on running towards the sun.
Yesterday, I realized that I never read your words. The liner notes that would have made you the john to my alice. The secrets that could have only been understood had we made each line form a poem. The sequence of letters and numbers that would have made the answer to our equation correct.
Nevertheless, looking at the lines makes me wish I had not finished that line of reasoning.
Using the concepts to connect each smaller piece to a larger thought on a not so blank canvas.
And yet for any understanding or shared connections the affirmatives never made our answer the truth.
and maybe that's not such a bad thing.
maybe it is.
at the end of the day, it doesn't matter much anymore.
all i can do is finish reading and hope i figure it out one day.
with or without us.
Nevertheless, looking at the lines makes me wish I had not finished that line of reasoning.
Using the concepts to connect each smaller piece to a larger thought on a not so blank canvas.
And yet for any understanding or shared connections the affirmatives never made our answer the truth.
and maybe that's not such a bad thing.
maybe it is.
at the end of the day, it doesn't matter much anymore.
all i can do is finish reading and hope i figure it out one day.
with or without us.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
the morning after....
after the haze of last night... the morning after is always a contemplative one.... it makes me reflect.... makes me think of the past, the future... and how it all fits....
in the midst of these thoughts someone asked me today what i wanted.... what i've always wanted....
in it's process i couldn't help but think of how i got here... nascent notions, progression, the inherent loss tied to holding on.. and it's perpetual cycle....
the only conclusion i've always come to is, i don't regret any decision i've made up unto this point.....
and yet.... still... at the end of the day i would trade it all for a best friend...
a walk... an extended conversation... an unending dialogue... an ellipsis...
a continuation that didn't lead to empty cul-de-sacs and unsurmountable walls....
maybe she was right, i do hate repeating myself.
maybe he was right... maybe i should make a list.
in the midst of these thoughts someone asked me today what i wanted.... what i've always wanted....
in it's process i couldn't help but think of how i got here... nascent notions, progression, the inherent loss tied to holding on.. and it's perpetual cycle....
the only conclusion i've always come to is, i don't regret any decision i've made up unto this point.....
and yet.... still... at the end of the day i would trade it all for a best friend...
a walk... an extended conversation... an unending dialogue... an ellipsis...
a continuation that didn't lead to empty cul-de-sacs and unsurmountable walls....
maybe she was right, i do hate repeating myself.
maybe he was right... maybe i should make a list.
Friday, October 2, 2009
life recap... what i found out last night? =/
Disclaimer: for Miss. Hillman....
I was reminded again last night of the demise of my last franchise.... I guess empires built on sand don't fare comfortably near sea water (makes mental note)*.
Later on in the day in the process of moving things I was told Betty Crocker lost her show and is now set to 6am non-syndicated public access programing.... that of which is apparently ending, because Los Angeles can't afford public access... the good news was she is still allowed to cakebake on her own time. I guess with this new found unemployment I should look into the service industry...
baking cookies and bartending perhaps? =/
funny how so much can change in an instant.... i guess everything comes out as it should.
I was reminded again last night of the demise of my last franchise.... I guess empires built on sand don't fare comfortably near sea water (makes mental note)*.
Later on in the day in the process of moving things I was told Betty Crocker lost her show and is now set to 6am non-syndicated public access programing.... that of which is apparently ending, because Los Angeles can't afford public access... the good news was she is still allowed to cakebake on her own time. I guess with this new found unemployment I should look into the service industry...
baking cookies and bartending perhaps? =/
funny how so much can change in an instant.... i guess everything comes out as it should.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
time without consequence
Searching.
Knowing that it’s never been the same…
since the first
Time.
The uneven balance of a solid cylinder. It’s beam holding us into place.
Deafening
reverberations piercing the speed of sound… the stillness of his voice.
Blinding
lights refracting the spectrum beneath us.
We float. dancing. drowning into collage of sound.
Its pitch pervading the space between our silence until it held us all together.
Cradling.
Like a choir we whispered in waves.
Undulating up and down as we crept into a crescendo…
swaying as the wave overcame us.
Running.
Into the light. Into our moment.
A promise forever held between us. In that moment of time.
Still Searching.
Always knowing that it will never be the same as then.
And yet beam awaits…
a broken door that is always open,
if only for the reminder of that night,
if only for us as we were then…
for us, as we are now.
Knowing that it’s never been the same…
since the first
Time.
The uneven balance of a solid cylinder. It’s beam holding us into place.
Deafening
reverberations piercing the speed of sound… the stillness of his voice.
Blinding
lights refracting the spectrum beneath us.
We float. dancing. drowning into collage of sound.
Its pitch pervading the space between our silence until it held us all together.
Cradling.
Like a choir we whispered in waves.
Undulating up and down as we crept into a crescendo…
swaying as the wave overcame us.
Running.
Into the light. Into our moment.
A promise forever held between us. In that moment of time.
Still Searching.
Always knowing that it will never be the same as then.
And yet beam awaits…
a broken door that is always open,
if only for the reminder of that night,
if only for us as we were then…
for us, as we are now.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Persephone
You were
are the iconic stain in my loins
Proliferating me into presence.
Demeter's progeny
the embodiment being me, and therefore we
are the preface
the rose colored lens
Obscuring my point of view.
Glue smearing, cementing what
He, she could have been
What I now will be.
As if the words have not, cannot, and will not had been forcibly removed from it’s index
and burned from a codex of concepts only to be obstructed
from it's prologue without any addendum.
Into you I turn my limbs into salves
To soothe your battered hands
As you render me into molds
Of alabaster and marble.
The past, a demarcation of a promise
I, a stain in time.
Assilmated into the underworld
Out of your wilted resignation.
Out of a misguided protection.
A self deprecating, slight destruction
Only to have us wonder
Is there all there is?
You were the chisel, the hammer
Creating palaces out of step-stools, foot markers, and placements
Whispering my path into silent ears
Guiding me unto unsteady pedestals
With no foresight or forethought to bare the weight of my fall.
As you carried me with your words,
built burdens of worlds within my womb
I fell,
still fall
Without you to catch me.
are the iconic stain in my loins
Proliferating me into presence.
Demeter's progeny
the embodiment being me, and therefore we
are the preface
the rose colored lens
Obscuring my point of view.
Glue smearing, cementing what
He, she could have been
What I now will be.
As if the words have not, cannot, and will not had been forcibly removed from it’s index
and burned from a codex of concepts only to be obstructed
from it's prologue without any addendum.
Into you I turn my limbs into salves
To soothe your battered hands
As you render me into molds
Of alabaster and marble.
The past, a demarcation of a promise
I, a stain in time.
Assilmated into the underworld
Out of your wilted resignation.
Out of a misguided protection.
A self deprecating, slight destruction
Only to have us wonder
Is there all there is?
You were the chisel, the hammer
Creating palaces out of step-stools, foot markers, and placements
Whispering my path into silent ears
Guiding me unto unsteady pedestals
With no foresight or forethought to bare the weight of my fall.
As you carried me with your words,
built burdens of worlds within my womb
I fell,
still fall
Without you to catch me.
Monday, September 21, 2009
capsizing.
warm wishes, swimming on the dance floor, late night after after parties, mid-morning preludes to a comforting kiss... loving the afternoon away, missed sound baths, star gazing, and an even later late nite dinner... not to mention the delicious bruises all over me. i think i just might be in it. i guess being blind-sided is never a bad thing, especially in the morning.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
thoughts on life, love, food and sex in the forrest.
I’ve been asked on numerous occasions what happened to me over the last two weekends. Well, I initially intended on going to the Bay but happened to have my car breakdown while visiting friends… and was stuck in one of the nicest places in Northern Cali…. Big Sur.
It seemed as if every time I tried to leave something would happen… my car would subsequently breakdown… and even after i fixed it my car would somehow find a way to breakdown again.. that or something crazy would happen. It was as if some force wanted me to stay there... and figure out why I was there... or at least force me to enjoy my extended vacation.
So instead of having to hear someone remind me of the fact that there are worse places in the world to get stuck, I started to make a list of what I genuinely enjoyed about the people and this place that I would inevitability spend my time.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
1. Adding an extra couple hours to my drive on the 1 and bypassing the 101 altogether was worth it. Worth it in ways than any words could truly express. Unfortunately we usually tend to feel constrained by time. And yet, as each mile passed I began realize how time became somewhat insignificant…. and all I could feel was a teather pulling me into some unknown future.... to a place where I began to wish time never existed at all.
2. The road, as the well as the environment can be somewhat unforgiving. In many ways, it will never have the sunny disposition of LA, but it has something different. Though changes in the temperature fluctuate rather frequently, it’s richness is felt in the silence and sound of everything around you. Life is abundant there…. It’s the only place I’ve been where butterflies and blue jays kick comfortably kicked it on my shoulder… It’s different and yet quite humbling.
3. The air is clean. You can drink water from a hose outside and it’s still significantly cleaner than any water you will find down here… it took me days to wrap my head around the idea that I was breathing clean air…. no fucking joke.
4. The food is so much better. Consistently better. So good, that I had to remind myself not to spontaneously implode in my chair every time I ate something.
5. Most of the people there are genuinely helpful and nice. No pretense….. It’s quite refreshing.
6. Even if they don’t get you, people just sort of inherently accept you for who you are….. Also quite refreshing.
7. Sex is a very attainable option. What I mean by this is… it can be quite incestuous in an open way. I think people out in LA like to play on the DL or are reluctant to kiss and tell. I think this is mainly because we think being open about their sexual history will keep others from pursuing relationships with us.
And yet, no one seems to care out there…or if they do, no one cares enough to make a fuss… I think in many ways I have to respect any group of people who can comfortably talk about what they did the night before without reservation. It sort of leaves me with only two options…
8. As a subset of 7, because of this realization... I'm starting to enjoy the notion of celibacy… or at least the option on my terms. Somehow all of that openness sort of makes my want to see how long I can hold out…. And I think if I lived there abstaining could become a very comfortable lifestyle…. Strange that I would even consider it an option… backwards i know... but since I’ve left there it has.
9. Boys (and girls) there have mad swag. It’s something about their ability to be genuine individuals that makes them that much sexier… and I can’t lie… for as small as Big Sur is, there is a dense population of exceptionally attractive males….. Which makes it even more enticing to look at celibacy as an option.
10. If you’re a musician, or a habitual weed smoking artisan who needs some perspective, this is definitely a place to go… better yet… if you’re a writer who happens to be a habitual weed smoking, drinking, mushroom eating musician who needs some inspiration or perspective this a place to consider spending a week or two.
11. I guess the last thing I can mention (not accounting for all of the beauty) is what Big Sur does to me. LA has (for all of it’s good) in many ways consumed me. I seem to notice that my emotional walls have become more fortified the longer I stay here. People seem apprehensive to experience genuine interaction and when they do it’s a bit unnerving to them.
I definitely noticed it in Big Sur, but not to the same degree. Regardless of any initial hesitation people were willing to explore the possibly of connection. And in many ways this place does that to you. It pulls the walls down and forces you to examine yourself and the world around you.
And for as potentially painful as that can be... in many ways it’s quite liberating.
Despite all of the headache and heartache I experienced I had a great time.... Jam sessions, hikes, copious alcohol & hallucenigenic consumption, with a existential breakdown to boot... all in all.... I can't complain. at least not anymore.
It seemed as if every time I tried to leave something would happen… my car would subsequently breakdown… and even after i fixed it my car would somehow find a way to breakdown again.. that or something crazy would happen. It was as if some force wanted me to stay there... and figure out why I was there... or at least force me to enjoy my extended vacation.
So instead of having to hear someone remind me of the fact that there are worse places in the world to get stuck, I started to make a list of what I genuinely enjoyed about the people and this place that I would inevitability spend my time.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
1. Adding an extra couple hours to my drive on the 1 and bypassing the 101 altogether was worth it. Worth it in ways than any words could truly express. Unfortunately we usually tend to feel constrained by time. And yet, as each mile passed I began realize how time became somewhat insignificant…. and all I could feel was a teather pulling me into some unknown future.... to a place where I began to wish time never existed at all.
2. The road, as the well as the environment can be somewhat unforgiving. In many ways, it will never have the sunny disposition of LA, but it has something different. Though changes in the temperature fluctuate rather frequently, it’s richness is felt in the silence and sound of everything around you. Life is abundant there…. It’s the only place I’ve been where butterflies and blue jays kick comfortably kicked it on my shoulder… It’s different and yet quite humbling.
3. The air is clean. You can drink water from a hose outside and it’s still significantly cleaner than any water you will find down here… it took me days to wrap my head around the idea that I was breathing clean air…. no fucking joke.
4. The food is so much better. Consistently better. So good, that I had to remind myself not to spontaneously implode in my chair every time I ate something.
5. Most of the people there are genuinely helpful and nice. No pretense….. It’s quite refreshing.
6. Even if they don’t get you, people just sort of inherently accept you for who you are….. Also quite refreshing.
7. Sex is a very attainable option. What I mean by this is… it can be quite incestuous in an open way. I think people out in LA like to play on the DL or are reluctant to kiss and tell. I think this is mainly because we think being open about their sexual history will keep others from pursuing relationships with us.
And yet, no one seems to care out there…or if they do, no one cares enough to make a fuss… I think in many ways I have to respect any group of people who can comfortably talk about what they did the night before without reservation. It sort of leaves me with only two options…
8. As a subset of 7, because of this realization... I'm starting to enjoy the notion of celibacy… or at least the option on my terms. Somehow all of that openness sort of makes my want to see how long I can hold out…. And I think if I lived there abstaining could become a very comfortable lifestyle…. Strange that I would even consider it an option… backwards i know... but since I’ve left there it has.
9. Boys (and girls) there have mad swag. It’s something about their ability to be genuine individuals that makes them that much sexier… and I can’t lie… for as small as Big Sur is, there is a dense population of exceptionally attractive males….. Which makes it even more enticing to look at celibacy as an option.
10. If you’re a musician, or a habitual weed smoking artisan who needs some perspective, this is definitely a place to go… better yet… if you’re a writer who happens to be a habitual weed smoking, drinking, mushroom eating musician who needs some inspiration or perspective this a place to consider spending a week or two.
11. I guess the last thing I can mention (not accounting for all of the beauty) is what Big Sur does to me. LA has (for all of it’s good) in many ways consumed me. I seem to notice that my emotional walls have become more fortified the longer I stay here. People seem apprehensive to experience genuine interaction and when they do it’s a bit unnerving to them.
I definitely noticed it in Big Sur, but not to the same degree. Regardless of any initial hesitation people were willing to explore the possibly of connection. And in many ways this place does that to you. It pulls the walls down and forces you to examine yourself and the world around you.
And for as potentially painful as that can be... in many ways it’s quite liberating.
Despite all of the headache and heartache I experienced I had a great time.... Jam sessions, hikes, copious alcohol & hallucenigenic consumption, with a existential breakdown to boot... all in all.... I can't complain. at least not anymore.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Rekindling an Old Love and Reflections on Swag.
Went to El Flordita last night. Came to the realization that salsa is an exaggerated form of pea cocking. Add a dash of bravado, pretense, and a splash of sex and you’ve got yourself a good time.
Last night I learned a couple of things:
1. Dancing is much better than sex… most of the time.
2. You can try multiple partners within the span of an hour….
3 You can walk away mid song if your unsatisfied, and it’s rare that I ever have a bad time.
Nevertheless, I’ve also realized that dancing partners are like relationships... most are fun, but it’s rare to find someone you actually click with… or maybe it’s just that I have yet to find a partner who can keep up with and handle me… or connect in all the right ways that the dance becomes symbiotic.
A lyrical flow that enables me to speed up and slow down in an almost perfect way. A way that puts me in a groove…. so that I not only lose myself in the song, but the person I’m dancing with.
I spend so much time dancing that I forget that I am actually dancing with someone.
It’s rare that I’ve had a partner with genuine swag who could really put it on me… so to speak…. But I figure one of these days someone’s going to come along and floor me.
Till then….
Last night I learned a couple of things:
1. Dancing is much better than sex… most of the time.
2. You can try multiple partners within the span of an hour….
3 You can walk away mid song if your unsatisfied, and it’s rare that I ever have a bad time.
Nevertheless, I’ve also realized that dancing partners are like relationships... most are fun, but it’s rare to find someone you actually click with… or maybe it’s just that I have yet to find a partner who can keep up with and handle me… or connect in all the right ways that the dance becomes symbiotic.
A lyrical flow that enables me to speed up and slow down in an almost perfect way. A way that puts me in a groove…. so that I not only lose myself in the song, but the person I’m dancing with.
I spend so much time dancing that I forget that I am actually dancing with someone.
It’s rare that I’ve had a partner with genuine swag who could really put it on me… so to speak…. But I figure one of these days someone’s going to come along and floor me.
Till then….
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Dear Sir.
May I Just Say... that you seriously might just be prettiest thing i have ever seen.
melting could be a side-effect of the visual, psychological, emotional coalescing that's commencing in my head at this very moment. all i can do is stare and wait. wait for a response. wait for you to talk to me.
patience is definitely an acquired taste, one i would graciously ingest to consume you once again.
sincerely,
.
melting could be a side-effect of the visual, psychological, emotional coalescing that's commencing in my head at this very moment. all i can do is stare and wait. wait for a response. wait for you to talk to me.
patience is definitely an acquired taste, one i would graciously ingest to consume you once again.
sincerely,
.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Are we so different?
I have been told that men and women are different in many ways... but the more I explore the notion of desire, the more I realize that our similarities mesh and overlap in ways that make us indistinguishable.
One example: The other day I was driving down Highland Blvd.... just a regular day, like any other.... and approaching me happened to be the most attractive man i have ever seen in my life.... ever.. and when i mean ever i absolutely unequivocally mean EVER.... so attractive… that i and the 15 women in front of me stopped our cars and watched him run past all of us... eyes wide... jaws dropped.... in awe.
I couldn't believe it.
Because of this I started ponder the ways in which women are driven by desire... Maybe there are significant differences… I don’t necessarily think so.... I think people are driven based off of their personal experiences... but when you are attracted, the physiological response is similar.
Another example: Watching D'Angelo's Untitled video.... now I normally enjoy watching videos in general. But this, for me is probably the most visceral video I have ever seen in my life. The song is exceptionally sensual, erotic... subtle and yet overtly sexual...
In all honesty, watching this video throws my brain into upheaval.
I absolutely lose my shit.
I start getting the shakes.... I become increasingly uncomfortable.... I have even been known to break into tears watching that boy. No joke.
I cannot watch it without thinking: I don't know what to do with myself. How is this even possible? I'm absolutely speechless.
Rarely has anything in my life put me in a situation where I would lose all sense of autonomy or self-control (give or take a person or two).
Nevertheless, he might just be one of the sexiest males alive... and not because he is attractive, that definitely helps... but he owns his sexuality.... his swag... whatever you want to call it… and yet, he doesn't over do it... he's not such a dominating presence that it overwhelming.
He just owns it... and i could see me falling over myself... acting the complete fool for someone like that…. which is strange (for me). And yet not entirely foreign.
i don't know. just a thought random thought i guess.
One example: The other day I was driving down Highland Blvd.... just a regular day, like any other.... and approaching me happened to be the most attractive man i have ever seen in my life.... ever.. and when i mean ever i absolutely unequivocally mean EVER.... so attractive… that i and the 15 women in front of me stopped our cars and watched him run past all of us... eyes wide... jaws dropped.... in awe.
I couldn't believe it.
Because of this I started ponder the ways in which women are driven by desire... Maybe there are significant differences… I don’t necessarily think so.... I think people are driven based off of their personal experiences... but when you are attracted, the physiological response is similar.
Another example: Watching D'Angelo's Untitled video.... now I normally enjoy watching videos in general. But this, for me is probably the most visceral video I have ever seen in my life. The song is exceptionally sensual, erotic... subtle and yet overtly sexual...
In all honesty, watching this video throws my brain into upheaval.
I absolutely lose my shit.
I start getting the shakes.... I become increasingly uncomfortable.... I have even been known to break into tears watching that boy. No joke.
I cannot watch it without thinking: I don't know what to do with myself. How is this even possible? I'm absolutely speechless.
Rarely has anything in my life put me in a situation where I would lose all sense of autonomy or self-control (give or take a person or two).
Nevertheless, he might just be one of the sexiest males alive... and not because he is attractive, that definitely helps... but he owns his sexuality.... his swag... whatever you want to call it… and yet, he doesn't over do it... he's not such a dominating presence that it overwhelming.
He just owns it... and i could see me falling over myself... acting the complete fool for someone like that…. which is strange (for me). And yet not entirely foreign.
i don't know. just a thought random thought i guess.
Monday, August 24, 2009
What I Converse About: In 3 Minutes Flat
I had this conversation a little over a year ago.... it seems to be a reoccuring one. I figure, better to know now then ask later. I guess reflecting back on it not much has changed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Friend: What goes on in that head of yours Elizabeth?……
Me: …….. I don't know. Do you want the dumbed down version, or something mildly poetic?
Friend: How about both…?
Me: Ummmmm…. What's in my head…… ummmm.
Ok….. My Head is a continual stream of consciousness looking for it's ocean.
Filled in lines with no ellipses; commas, or periods……
My head is a rambling abode of chaos with only rhyme and no reason.
It tends to fuck with treasonous thoughts, if only because it brings me closer to an edge…
my edge of understanding.
I am my own conundrum.
My head is a container of neurosis that spills out from time to time.
The destructive child.
The mother who cleans up the messes.
My head is warring alongside the world with a silent hope for peace.
My head is waiting.
Waiting for my heart to catch up, because it's tired of running too fast, and feeling so slow.
My head is yearning for the next walk, because it misses the sound of his footsteps.
My head is loud, quiet, still… erratic.
Moving toward cessation.
My head is humpty dumpty after the second fall.
My head is a drummer… the dimmer switch, my catalyst for light.
A lens projecting the disfigured state of the world, gracefully.
An idolizing fool mimicking what my heart once was.
My head is aching from dissonance, digging through clutter to find clarity, trying to find the words, a connection that makes me feel less lonely than being alone.
So where is my head these days….?
Everywhere but where it should reside, and yet in the exact place it needs to be….
Friend: Oh….. So what's the mildly poetic version?
Me: That's it's blank most of the day and when synapses occasionally fire it comes up with an odd thought that instantaneously gets sidetracked by shiny things.
Friend: Sounds about right.
Me: Yeah…. Yeah it does. =/
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Friend: What goes on in that head of yours Elizabeth?……
Me: …….. I don't know. Do you want the dumbed down version, or something mildly poetic?
Friend: How about both…?
Me: Ummmmm…. What's in my head…… ummmm.
Ok….. My Head is a continual stream of consciousness looking for it's ocean.
Filled in lines with no ellipses; commas, or periods……
My head is a rambling abode of chaos with only rhyme and no reason.
It tends to fuck with treasonous thoughts, if only because it brings me closer to an edge…
my edge of understanding.
I am my own conundrum.
My head is a container of neurosis that spills out from time to time.
The destructive child.
The mother who cleans up the messes.
My head is warring alongside the world with a silent hope for peace.
My head is waiting.
Waiting for my heart to catch up, because it's tired of running too fast, and feeling so slow.
My head is yearning for the next walk, because it misses the sound of his footsteps.
My head is loud, quiet, still… erratic.
Moving toward cessation.
My head is humpty dumpty after the second fall.
My head is a drummer… the dimmer switch, my catalyst for light.
A lens projecting the disfigured state of the world, gracefully.
An idolizing fool mimicking what my heart once was.
My head is aching from dissonance, digging through clutter to find clarity, trying to find the words, a connection that makes me feel less lonely than being alone.
So where is my head these days….?
Everywhere but where it should reside, and yet in the exact place it needs to be….
Friend: Oh….. So what's the mildly poetic version?
Me: That's it's blank most of the day and when synapses occasionally fire it comes up with an odd thought that instantaneously gets sidetracked by shiny things.
Friend: Sounds about right.
Me: Yeah…. Yeah it does. =/
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Somber Solace.
To Verona:
It was strange to hear your voice today. Somewhat somber, somewhat different. You came in with that same line, same mode of arbitrary information. Words just to hear your own, words to drown mine out.
Repeating the same line over and over again. A seamless sequence of non-sequential thought patterns.
and then you stopped.
Silence.
Every battle you've always chosen to fight alone. Paths I would have willingly… desperately crossed with you were not to be ventured. Paths I would inevitably cross because of your unwillingness to share.
Nevertheless, your return was always my solace. War-ridden but victorious, this was you… and in effect so was I. The strength, the will to proceed as if nothing penetrated that impenetrable exterior… into your precious veneer… was my strength…. and is still mine in many ways.
I've never heard you beg before. I only maybe ever seen you broken once. But that once was enough to shatter me profoundly.
And yet today.... something was very foreign, very different. I now realize that you've lost. Lost a million times, in a million different ways, that I will never fully comprehend… because you have chosen to carry the entirety of this burden alone.
And yet as it broke, as you broke… all I could do was hold you, and say that I'm sorry.
All I could do was give into this, into you. Give you all of myself in the ways I had always wished you would, but was too proud to ask.
As we broke away, back into the sequence of non-sequential thought patterns, all I could think was… how did we get here?
How is it, that no matter how hard I try to shake you we are inseparable? so similar that if I were ever to take one false step, I could be here.
I could be you.
All I could do was hold tighter. cling to that moment.
To you.
To us….. harder than I've ever held on to anything in my life.
Because for all my loss, all of my heartache you were the only one I've always come back to. The only solace to ever console me, as I to you.
It was strange to hear your voice today. Somewhat somber, somewhat different. You came in with that same line, same mode of arbitrary information. Words just to hear your own, words to drown mine out.
Repeating the same line over and over again. A seamless sequence of non-sequential thought patterns.
and then you stopped.
Silence.
Every battle you've always chosen to fight alone. Paths I would have willingly… desperately crossed with you were not to be ventured. Paths I would inevitably cross because of your unwillingness to share.
Nevertheless, your return was always my solace. War-ridden but victorious, this was you… and in effect so was I. The strength, the will to proceed as if nothing penetrated that impenetrable exterior… into your precious veneer… was my strength…. and is still mine in many ways.
I've never heard you beg before. I only maybe ever seen you broken once. But that once was enough to shatter me profoundly.
And yet today.... something was very foreign, very different. I now realize that you've lost. Lost a million times, in a million different ways, that I will never fully comprehend… because you have chosen to carry the entirety of this burden alone.
And yet as it broke, as you broke… all I could do was hold you, and say that I'm sorry.
All I could do was give into this, into you. Give you all of myself in the ways I had always wished you would, but was too proud to ask.
As we broke away, back into the sequence of non-sequential thought patterns, all I could think was… how did we get here?
How is it, that no matter how hard I try to shake you we are inseparable? so similar that if I were ever to take one false step, I could be here.
I could be you.
All I could do was hold tighter. cling to that moment.
To you.
To us….. harder than I've ever held on to anything in my life.
Because for all my loss, all of my heartache you were the only one I've always come back to. The only solace to ever console me, as I to you.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Personal Disclaimer.
one thing before i fly off the handle.. my own personal disclaimer...
i wouldn't suggest putting any stock into what i say today.
due to a lack of sleep... i have a severe case of mental instability, and a dash of mania in there somewhere.
With those two elements you will come to see a very different side of me.... a socially akward kid who occasionally says funny things and is super spastic. even more so than i already am...
and for those who actually know me, that's really saying something
though i have a feeling my commentary will make most do a double take, i would suggest that you just smile.... nod in amazement and go about your day.... that is of course unless you need a little comic relief or are in the mood for some interesting conversation.
stay tuned.
i wouldn't suggest putting any stock into what i say today.
due to a lack of sleep... i have a severe case of mental instability, and a dash of mania in there somewhere.
With those two elements you will come to see a very different side of me.... a socially akward kid who occasionally says funny things and is super spastic. even more so than i already am...
and for those who actually know me, that's really saying something
though i have a feeling my commentary will make most do a double take, i would suggest that you just smile.... nod in amazement and go about your day.... that is of course unless you need a little comic relief or are in the mood for some interesting conversation.
stay tuned.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Autoreply: Dear Sir, Third Person again.
Dear Sir,
It's the Third Person again. I know how much you love emails... typed written letters... or letters in general, but I thought I should pass this on to you.
The days here are becoming increasing more disjointed on the home front.
More fragmented.
I am genuinely becoming worried about the First. I know that placing everything in limbo seems reasonable. But I'm starting to wonder... Concern increasing by the moment.
Maybe this is supposed to happen. Maybe her sadness is a last ditch effort to hold on to something. In many ways that seems to make the most sense.
Nevertheless... I can't help but think you are going to lose her. Not in pieces.
But entirely. irrevocably.
And I don't know if there is any coming back from that. Well, irrevocable means just that I guess... Doesn't it? One does not come back. Does not build. There is nothing left.... To say or to do.
Then again maybe it's a phase, maybe...
Maybe she is fine and my concern is exaggerated by unfounded fears.
But maybe it's not.
Just thought you should know.
Sincerely,
Third Person.
It's the Third Person again. I know how much you love emails... typed written letters... or letters in general, but I thought I should pass this on to you.
The days here are becoming increasing more disjointed on the home front.
More fragmented.
I am genuinely becoming worried about the First. I know that placing everything in limbo seems reasonable. But I'm starting to wonder... Concern increasing by the moment.
Maybe this is supposed to happen. Maybe her sadness is a last ditch effort to hold on to something. In many ways that seems to make the most sense.
Nevertheless... I can't help but think you are going to lose her. Not in pieces.
But entirely. irrevocably.
And I don't know if there is any coming back from that. Well, irrevocable means just that I guess... Doesn't it? One does not come back. Does not build. There is nothing left.... To say or to do.
Then again maybe it's a phase, maybe...
Maybe she is fine and my concern is exaggerated by unfounded fears.
But maybe it's not.
Just thought you should know.
Sincerely,
Third Person.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Dear Sir, Third Person Sending Minor Request.
Dear Sir,
Speaking in the third person, i can tell that the first person wanted to let you know that she misses you.
Though i don't entirely know how comfortable she is with me conveying that, it is a fact.
And as the third person i can honesty say that she misses you so much that i am beginning to miss you too.
And i don't know how comfortable i am with conveying that fact.... nevertheless that statement is also true.
I guess if you spend enough time around a person you start to take on their qualities.... this is one of them. Though i notice it more days than others, today was pretty apparent.
Other than that, i can't say or shouldn't say much.... but from what i can tell she in good spirits, she doesn't talk often.... though as her representative i usually handle all diplomatic interaction and affairs considering her mental state.... she's not crazy or losing it... she's just usually pensive, melancholy.. and mostly in hiding.
Though, I don't honestly think I should be writing this... it doesn't feel like the right time... though will there ever be an appropriate time? If she geniunely knew i was doing this she would get upset, but i think it needed to be said... if not understood.
There's a lot of mending that needs to get done, and things are better where they are at the moment. Maybe not for her, or for you... but for where things inevitably need to be.
So i guess whenever you receive this message, if you want to write her and let her know (that's if you agree with the sentiment), then you should... However, if you disagree with this... you can kindly or not-so-kindly respond to me and I will convey the message.
Sincerely,
Third Person.
Speaking in the third person, i can tell that the first person wanted to let you know that she misses you.
Though i don't entirely know how comfortable she is with me conveying that, it is a fact.
And as the third person i can honesty say that she misses you so much that i am beginning to miss you too.
And i don't know how comfortable i am with conveying that fact.... nevertheless that statement is also true.
I guess if you spend enough time around a person you start to take on their qualities.... this is one of them. Though i notice it more days than others, today was pretty apparent.
Other than that, i can't say or shouldn't say much.... but from what i can tell she in good spirits, she doesn't talk often.... though as her representative i usually handle all diplomatic interaction and affairs considering her mental state.... she's not crazy or losing it... she's just usually pensive, melancholy.. and mostly in hiding.
Though, I don't honestly think I should be writing this... it doesn't feel like the right time... though will there ever be an appropriate time? If she geniunely knew i was doing this she would get upset, but i think it needed to be said... if not understood.
There's a lot of mending that needs to get done, and things are better where they are at the moment. Maybe not for her, or for you... but for where things inevitably need to be.
So i guess whenever you receive this message, if you want to write her and let her know (that's if you agree with the sentiment), then you should... However, if you disagree with this... you can kindly or not-so-kindly respond to me and I will convey the message.
Sincerely,
Third Person.
nevertheless. my response to you.
I am okay.
Maybe not as okay as I’d like to be…. But nevertheless okay.
I move at various paces. Sometimes fast, occasionally slow, but nevertheless I move.
I muster the space to move regardless of my sadness. But that does not diminish my sense of loss.
I have nothing to prove, to you or to anyone. And nevertheless I feel as if unless I lose my shit, break down in the middle of the dance floor.. I’m perceived as some heartless individual or genuinely cared less.
No.
No.
No.
I break on my off time. I break at work. I break at various points throughout the day.
I break in the silence spaces interspersed with bouts of confusion and if I’m lucky a moment of laughter.
Just because your overtness is more apparent does not diminish any lack of loss on my end. Above all I find it quite fascinating that you don’t seem to understand my behavior given the fact you do many of the same things i do, except you're much better at playing composed than i ever will be.
But it is not me fighting with myself.
It is not me mending and breaking, structuring and refracturing my mind to get a better understanding of where I am.
I have made peace with where I am now, and where I will choose to be.
I loved this. I gave into all of this. And out of respect for your wishes… for us, I’ve left this alone. I let this go.
Nevertheless if you wanted to see how much of an array I truly am in you can always ask.
If you truly wanted to understand my sense of loss you could always ask….
Truly ask… how are you?
Maybe not as okay as I’d like to be…. But nevertheless okay.
I move at various paces. Sometimes fast, occasionally slow, but nevertheless I move.
I muster the space to move regardless of my sadness. But that does not diminish my sense of loss.
I have nothing to prove, to you or to anyone. And nevertheless I feel as if unless I lose my shit, break down in the middle of the dance floor.. I’m perceived as some heartless individual or genuinely cared less.
No.
No.
No.
I break on my off time. I break at work. I break at various points throughout the day.
I break in the silence spaces interspersed with bouts of confusion and if I’m lucky a moment of laughter.
Just because your overtness is more apparent does not diminish any lack of loss on my end. Above all I find it quite fascinating that you don’t seem to understand my behavior given the fact you do many of the same things i do, except you're much better at playing composed than i ever will be.
But it is not me fighting with myself.
It is not me mending and breaking, structuring and refracturing my mind to get a better understanding of where I am.
I have made peace with where I am now, and where I will choose to be.
I loved this. I gave into all of this. And out of respect for your wishes… for us, I’ve left this alone. I let this go.
Nevertheless if you wanted to see how much of an array I truly am in you can always ask.
If you truly wanted to understand my sense of loss you could always ask….
Truly ask… how are you?
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Friday Run-Thru
Highlights of my day:
i picked up my guitar for the first time in years and sang.
i danced in a circle for almost an hour.
a good friend i haven't heard from years reached out to me.
my doctor appt lasted approximately 20 minutes, wait time, paperwork, diagnosis: faster than a drive thru.
i was genuinely happy all day.
Cons:
i may have lost a something/someone i care for very deeply.. nevertheless it is for the best.
What I learned from all of this...?
that i am truly resilient.
that there are so many people that truly care and are supportive of me. and despite my flaws, they understand me.
that friendship is not only a two way street, but that it can never develop a genuine foundation without tests to measure it's strength.
that learning to stand on your own two feet regardless of the influences around you.... is what truly makes you a man/woman. and without that you might never individualize what you truly need in life.
that contentment like relationships are inherently work. its is something that you must fight for. Finding it, maintaining it… is a constant struggle that is inherent within life. And though people have a tendency to become lax when things work out, contentment is as transient as any other experience. Just as one fights their way into good… One must fight just as hard to stay there.
other than that.... i'm at a loss. hopefully these insights will be enough... i'll guess we'll have to wait and see.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Getting There.
it's strange. I had a talk with someone today about perspective, life, happiness.
Standard procedure response, when someone asks where I am…. I say that I'm 'getting there'.
In all honesty isn't wasn't a lie. It wasn't entirely the truth. But it was accurate statement.
Somewhat true because for a second there I felt as if I had fallen... to lose the ground right up from under you can be life altering.
In this case it wasn't.
Maybe it's because I've been hurt and disappointed way too many times to allow myself to get there... or maybe it's too soon and I'm still searching, differentiating the idea between myself and others. But looking back something already in me senses that it won't be.
The thing is... taking two steps backward has inevitably allowed me to reconnect with myself and progress forward…. Because of this I can breathe. Really breathe... I can hear my own breath, and for as insane as things are around me it's a constant solace.
I think when I initially said that I was getting there, I meant it in a very different context. I felt shaken, close to being shattered, momentarily broken, but still intact. whatever breaks I may have incurred over the years only tore small pieces generating scar tissue… But that space allowed me to stretch, and grow... test my boundaries while expanding a stronger sense of self.
These past weeks have been no different.
and while I can honestly look back, retrace my steps, wonder about the potentials or the what if's... I know that I have always been honest, dedicated, and loyal throughout this entire process, regardless of outside perspective. And at the end of the day there's nothing I could have done to change my outcome or other individual's indignation towards me.
Because of this, the notion of 'getting there' has taken on an entirely new meaning.
I will always be moving, floating or at rest, but progressing into myself...
I am good.
And when I said it today, everything fell silent.
I could have picked apart a million things, went to so many different places, but when I thought about the question... I could only hear one answer.
And maybe that will fluctuate... I'm still feeling my way through this... alone, searching for something through this proverbial darkness... But in the darkness something has irrevocably shifted in me.
I feel the warmth of something beyond myself, beckoning me into a new beginning, leading me into an unknown future… and for as daunting as that notion may seen… I can't but move, float, run, climb into the warmth. Out of the darkness, and into the light.
Standard procedure response, when someone asks where I am…. I say that I'm 'getting there'.
In all honesty isn't wasn't a lie. It wasn't entirely the truth. But it was accurate statement.
Somewhat true because for a second there I felt as if I had fallen... to lose the ground right up from under you can be life altering.
In this case it wasn't.
Maybe it's because I've been hurt and disappointed way too many times to allow myself to get there... or maybe it's too soon and I'm still searching, differentiating the idea between myself and others. But looking back something already in me senses that it won't be.
The thing is... taking two steps backward has inevitably allowed me to reconnect with myself and progress forward…. Because of this I can breathe. Really breathe... I can hear my own breath, and for as insane as things are around me it's a constant solace.
I think when I initially said that I was getting there, I meant it in a very different context. I felt shaken, close to being shattered, momentarily broken, but still intact. whatever breaks I may have incurred over the years only tore small pieces generating scar tissue… But that space allowed me to stretch, and grow... test my boundaries while expanding a stronger sense of self.
These past weeks have been no different.
and while I can honestly look back, retrace my steps, wonder about the potentials or the what if's... I know that I have always been honest, dedicated, and loyal throughout this entire process, regardless of outside perspective. And at the end of the day there's nothing I could have done to change my outcome or other individual's indignation towards me.
Because of this, the notion of 'getting there' has taken on an entirely new meaning.
I will always be moving, floating or at rest, but progressing into myself...
I am good.
And when I said it today, everything fell silent.
I could have picked apart a million things, went to so many different places, but when I thought about the question... I could only hear one answer.
And maybe that will fluctuate... I'm still feeling my way through this... alone, searching for something through this proverbial darkness... But in the darkness something has irrevocably shifted in me.
I feel the warmth of something beyond myself, beckoning me into a new beginning, leading me into an unknown future… and for as daunting as that notion may seen… I can't but move, float, run, climb into the warmth. Out of the darkness, and into the light.
Monday, July 13, 2009
blacking out the friction
i sift through your pages to hear my voice. my fingers tattered, littered with cuts, incisions due to the incessant hopes of being something more than an afterthought. i can’t help but think that this right will never be enough to measure against any of our potential wrongs. that our choices will never bring us back here. and though i am rarely one to regret, i am beginning to reevaluate that notion. reevaluate how to sever synapses, cement together walls to make this justification fit along the rift we will begin build. i guess it shouldn’t matter anymore, especially when you can’t change what is.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Fleeting Maybes.
I can’t believe all of this happened. All in one instant, one flash. And as I stood there I realized, that I had no one to talk to or share this with. I realized in that moment how singular my existence can be.
And I didn’t know how to respond, even if I did there would be no one there to listen.
Maybe these fleeting moments have always been solitary for a reason.
Maybe I was meant to enjoy them within the confines of my mind, or maybe… just maybe.. one day I can say something contrary.
I guess we all have our dreams. This one is mine.
And I didn’t know how to respond, even if I did there would be no one there to listen.
Maybe these fleeting moments have always been solitary for a reason.
Maybe I was meant to enjoy them within the confines of my mind, or maybe… just maybe.. one day I can say something contrary.
I guess we all have our dreams. This one is mine.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Q but where's the A?
So I’ve been thinking about writing something. Which is probably not the best idea considering I have enough on my plate that I can barely finish. I started on it about a year ago. A multitude of interactions based what appears to be two individuals.
Not a far reach considering that I tend to dissociate on a semi-regular basis….
I guess my only issue would be… where to begin, how much of myself do I really want to creatively invest in this venture… do I include semi-autobiographical information… and if so how much should genuinely disclose?
Tough questions. I have a lot of it down already. Now the fun part begins.
Not a far reach considering that I tend to dissociate on a semi-regular basis….
I guess my only issue would be… where to begin, how much of myself do I really want to creatively invest in this venture… do I include semi-autobiographical information… and if so how much should genuinely disclose?
Tough questions. I have a lot of it down already. Now the fun part begins.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Predilection: Day One.
I broke my promise, for the first time in almost a year. I don’t really know how to feel about it. I don’t think I feel angry. I was able to sustain that long, a year is a decent amount of time I suspect.
I’m not disappointed either. It doesn’t hurt anyone, especially myself or the people around me. It was just this one thing, I’ve never been able to shake. I think there was a point were I was inspired to abstain. There hasn’t been much I haven’t been able to kick, and at that point it felt good to know that there were others around me who were able to cut there own predilections either for the sake of themselves or their relationships with me. Should have known it couldn’t really last.
Not with them. Nor me. So here I am. Day one all over again.
And I don’t really seem to mind. Why should I, no one else seems to.
I’m not disappointed either. It doesn’t hurt anyone, especially myself or the people around me. It was just this one thing, I’ve never been able to shake. I think there was a point were I was inspired to abstain. There hasn’t been much I haven’t been able to kick, and at that point it felt good to know that there were others around me who were able to cut there own predilections either for the sake of themselves or their relationships with me. Should have known it couldn’t really last.
Not with them. Nor me. So here I am. Day one all over again.
And I don’t really seem to mind. Why should I, no one else seems to.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
fall.
is bad to say that i've got bruises?
bruises from you.
i've tripped before, scabs that healed over... leaving visible scars over an entrenched body.
it is bad to say that this slip is harder... harder than any slip i've had before?
leaving me unkempt and wondering about an actual break?
strange to think i've never broken a bone, and yet with you i could see it unfold.. play by play...
it's force expanding or fracturing my core.
broken capillaries, flashing a reddish hue waiting for the purple to implode its way around my tattooed sun.
as you kiss the expanding space taking over what little caramel pigment that is left, i smile.
your gift from my fall from grace.
bruises from you.
i've tripped before, scabs that healed over... leaving visible scars over an entrenched body.
it is bad to say that this slip is harder... harder than any slip i've had before?
leaving me unkempt and wondering about an actual break?
strange to think i've never broken a bone, and yet with you i could see it unfold.. play by play...
it's force expanding or fracturing my core.
broken capillaries, flashing a reddish hue waiting for the purple to implode its way around my tattooed sun.
as you kiss the expanding space taking over what little caramel pigment that is left, i smile.
your gift from my fall from grace.
Friday, June 19, 2009
My Adventures to Whole Foods: 6/19
Every time I walk to Whole Foods something interesting happens. It’s only a block away but I observe the most fascinating scenarios… Or at least, I think that I do…
Here’s what happened within a matter of 3 minutes…
I almost got hit by 2 cars within a matter of inches.. again.
I got hit on by a 12 year old, a senior citizen, and an entire league of guys in pick up trucks-- all in less than 10 yards.
I watched an old dude with a greezy Jeri Curl use his underage/pre-pubescent daughter to run up on a woman so that he could hit on her.
What have I learned:
That men make me want to perform a Tubal Ligation on myself.
That if I were to procreate, I'd be very careful with whomever I decide to have a child with, let alone with whom I allow to supervise it.
If you hear your son hollering at girl from the beat seat, bitch slap him for me and teach the ignorant ass scrub some respect.
That just because it is flattering to get compliments, it’s another to feel and observe what I did today. Damn boys get your shit together… I guess it’s easier to degrade and objectify someone when you don’t actually see them as a person… and that might be okay in certain scenarios, just please don’t make it my problem. And I won’t make it yours.
And finally… I’d better walk with a bat and some protective gear, just in case someone actually decides to hit me.
Here’s what happened within a matter of 3 minutes…
I almost got hit by 2 cars within a matter of inches.. again.
I got hit on by a 12 year old, a senior citizen, and an entire league of guys in pick up trucks-- all in less than 10 yards.
I watched an old dude with a greezy Jeri Curl use his underage/pre-pubescent daughter to run up on a woman so that he could hit on her.
What have I learned:
That men make me want to perform a Tubal Ligation on myself.
That if I were to procreate, I'd be very careful with whomever I decide to have a child with, let alone with whom I allow to supervise it.
If you hear your son hollering at girl from the beat seat, bitch slap him for me and teach the ignorant ass scrub some respect.
That just because it is flattering to get compliments, it’s another to feel and observe what I did today. Damn boys get your shit together… I guess it’s easier to degrade and objectify someone when you don’t actually see them as a person… and that might be okay in certain scenarios, just please don’t make it my problem. And I won’t make it yours.
And finally… I’d better walk with a bat and some protective gear, just in case someone actually decides to hit me.
stasis
I wonder if I should worry.
If only seeing one side of a multidimensional form is good enough to warrant contentment?
Speaking in small increments, clues that lead to Cul-de-sacs, never maps that give its outright treasure, is confounding….
If not downright confusing.
I can’t honestly say that I depend on you now... or ever will…
I can’t say that I ever see us having an honest future.
What I can say is that you always leave me guarded.
Always wondering what’s really going on under the surface.
I want to hear what you have to say after you read this.
I want to hear the words fall from your mouth and drip off your tongue…
if only just to catch it…
place in it my ear...
savor it into memory.
I want to know how you really feel about this.
About me.
About her.
I want all of the pieces, for even half truths might give me some semblance of discretion.
If you can give me this.
Only this.
I can give us back.
If only seeing one side of a multidimensional form is good enough to warrant contentment?
Speaking in small increments, clues that lead to Cul-de-sacs, never maps that give its outright treasure, is confounding….
If not downright confusing.
I can’t honestly say that I depend on you now... or ever will…
I can’t say that I ever see us having an honest future.
What I can say is that you always leave me guarded.
Always wondering what’s really going on under the surface.
I want to hear what you have to say after you read this.
I want to hear the words fall from your mouth and drip off your tongue…
if only just to catch it…
place in it my ear...
savor it into memory.
I want to know how you really feel about this.
About me.
About her.
I want all of the pieces, for even half truths might give me some semblance of discretion.
If you can give me this.
Only this.
I can give us back.
Monday, June 1, 2009
a day with you.
Heard your voice this afternoon. A sound that burned off the remnants of deafening haze, making everything clear. Wondered what it would be like to listen to your song. Everyday. Every night. The last whisper before drifting off into nothingness. The only meaningful thing to come home to. Awaken into your warmth. Into your arms. Melt into silence. What a wonderful dream. What a wonderful morning.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Quote of the Day: Thoughts on the Self
"I discovered that my obsession for having each thing in the right place, each subject at the right time, each word in the right style, was not the well-deserved reward of an ordered mind but just the opposite: a complete system of pretense invented by me to hide the disorder of my nature. I discovered that I am not disciplined out of virtue but as a reaction to my negligence, that I appear generous in order to conceal my meanness, that I am conciliatory in order not to succumb to my repressed rage, that I am punctual only to hide how little I care about other people's time. I learned, in short, that love is not a condition of the spirit but a sign of the zodiac."
-- Gabriel Garcia Marquez
When observing others, I have always wondered if they would ever be able to actualize such deficiencies within themselves. For all I can ever see is a succession of limitations within my own being.
-- Gabriel Garcia Marquez
When observing others, I have always wondered if they would ever be able to actualize such deficiencies within themselves. For all I can ever see is a succession of limitations within my own being.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Quote of the Day: Thoughts on Ignorance
"...your ineptitude is so vast, your incompetence so profound, that I am certain you are inhabited by greater power than I have ever known. Unfortunately, it seems to work backwards at the moment, and even I can find no way to set it right. It must be that you are meant to find your own way to reach your power in time; but frankly, you should live so long as that will take you. Therefore I grant it that you shall not age from this day forth, but will travel the world round and round, eternally inefficient, until at last you come to yourself and know what you are. Do not thank me. I tremble at your doom."
-Peter S. Beagle (The Last Unicorn, 1968)
-Peter S. Beagle (The Last Unicorn, 1968)
Thursday, May 7, 2009
good enough
i will never be that sound.. that carry over enhancing the space that lulls your heart to sing.
my beat will never click with your feet… will never carry a constant tune... for my syncopation is always on the 1, falling two steps behind the 3.
my notes dance in subtle tones that are only felt in silence. lingered by the scent of your song.
i will never be that voice you think of when you reach out into the darkness, for my hand is steady… a light that will never burn away..
i will never be that shadow that you wish to walk behind, for my silhouette is grooved the in spaces that wait for hurts to heal.
i won't break your heart that way, that unrequited desire that makes you yearn for more.
i am only me. flawed in my unseeming perfection. broken but whole enough to not give you what you think you need.
I can only give you this. this song, this tune, this shade, this heart.
I can only give you love.
my beat will never click with your feet… will never carry a constant tune... for my syncopation is always on the 1, falling two steps behind the 3.
my notes dance in subtle tones that are only felt in silence. lingered by the scent of your song.
i will never be that voice you think of when you reach out into the darkness, for my hand is steady… a light that will never burn away..
i will never be that shadow that you wish to walk behind, for my silhouette is grooved the in spaces that wait for hurts to heal.
i won't break your heart that way, that unrequited desire that makes you yearn for more.
i am only me. flawed in my unseeming perfection. broken but whole enough to not give you what you think you need.
I can only give you this. this song, this tune, this shade, this heart.
I can only give you love.
Quote of the Day: Thoughts on Music
Music is most often used for communication because it transcends language barriers and circumvents emotional walls. If your music is doing neither of those things, maybe you’re not a musician. -Gavin Castleton
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
would you.
I can’t help that being here breaks me, mends me, makes me tender. I wish I could be stronger, careful, deliberate, different...
But understand that I can only be this, and apologize that though it is hard, I am always trying.
Then again, you've never made it easy to be careless, or care less. So, though we both wish I could stop, would you really want me to?
But understand that I can only be this, and apologize that though it is hard, I am always trying.
Then again, you've never made it easy to be careless, or care less. So, though we both wish I could stop, would you really want me to?
Monday, May 4, 2009
Dear Sir: Notes on an Afterthought
This house was not built by me, not entirely.
Such an enclosing space is safe, but this warmth is an accompaniment, not a compliment…
You might ask why?...
Confused at your contentment, when compared to my own.
And my answer would be: because, you have shown me your world, and yet never cared enough to ask me of mine. You share your heart willingly, and never ask for all of it in return, all of me. You love the notion of space, but have never felt the warmth of home.
And all because you’ve never cared enough to ask.
I now realize that my salve makes our walls firmer, and though I occupy this space, these bricks were assembled before I ever decided to extend my stay.
For those who might find comfort in deconstructing, I could see how one would feel constricted.
And yet, I feel less at ease in your quiet apprehension, in your implicit excitement at my slight departure, more at a loss for every step not taken, sadder with every walk not given.
To feel as if I am the cause and catalyst for much good and disenchantment is heartbreaking. I think it would be narcissistic to believe I could be more... for you. for us.
Then again I’ve never been one stay in one place. And for as much as I love misery, I could never live there, not with you. Not with anyone. Not anymore.
We are not so different, you and I.
I just wish you understood the difference.
Such an enclosing space is safe, but this warmth is an accompaniment, not a compliment…
You might ask why?...
Confused at your contentment, when compared to my own.
And my answer would be: because, you have shown me your world, and yet never cared enough to ask me of mine. You share your heart willingly, and never ask for all of it in return, all of me. You love the notion of space, but have never felt the warmth of home.
And all because you’ve never cared enough to ask.
I now realize that my salve makes our walls firmer, and though I occupy this space, these bricks were assembled before I ever decided to extend my stay.
For those who might find comfort in deconstructing, I could see how one would feel constricted.
And yet, I feel less at ease in your quiet apprehension, in your implicit excitement at my slight departure, more at a loss for every step not taken, sadder with every walk not given.
To feel as if I am the cause and catalyst for much good and disenchantment is heartbreaking. I think it would be narcissistic to believe I could be more... for you. for us.
Then again I’ve never been one stay in one place. And for as much as I love misery, I could never live there, not with you. Not with anyone. Not anymore.
We are not so different, you and I.
I just wish you understood the difference.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
My Reclamation: A Reconciliation for the New Year
Thinking about the past has been my one and only new years resolutions… finding ways to reconnect and reconcile with every piece of myself, has become one of the most taxing experiences of my life. And yet, it is a never ending venture that I have yet to tire from.
Being honest with myself and others, has never been too difficult for me. I’ve rarely been one to experience shame or be unable to reclaim parts of myself some might find devaluing to their character.
And yet, looking back over the past 2 years, I now realize that I had evolved into someone unlike myself. Someone defeated by the experiences that encapsulated my being, my worth…. and this sense of loss inevitably transformed me into something broken.
Now, whether or not others influenced this process, is currently irrelevant. Regardless, of my inability to see past another’s manipulations, I ultimately made the decisions that influenced my life… and allowed others, (as well as myself) to devalue my own worth.
There is no one to blame for this, not now… Not anymore. It is the past. Those were my decisions, and I would not trade them for anything. Regardless of the consequences, I would not be here today if things were different.
Tying up loose ends and cutting away dead weight has made my life enriched and fulfilled in ways that I have yet to fully actualize.... and yet last night forced me reevaluate things.
It reminded me of all the ties I have severed since then. Remains left unkempt without even an acknowledgement to signify its loss. I look back at where I was less than a year ago.. The people I surrounded myself with, and the people that currently remain.
And all I can think of is.... how much I appreciate this newfound silence.
I no longer want the same things I once did... My desire remains with recapturing remnants of my heart, while affirming parts of myself that I didn’t even realize existed.
The stillness and silence that has followed has been humbling.
This time has enabled me to cultivate a true sense of self, of love, and of home.
I am content… and though I don’t have much, I have abundance of everything that I need.
Being honest with myself and others, has never been too difficult for me. I’ve rarely been one to experience shame or be unable to reclaim parts of myself some might find devaluing to their character.
And yet, looking back over the past 2 years, I now realize that I had evolved into someone unlike myself. Someone defeated by the experiences that encapsulated my being, my worth…. and this sense of loss inevitably transformed me into something broken.
Now, whether or not others influenced this process, is currently irrelevant. Regardless, of my inability to see past another’s manipulations, I ultimately made the decisions that influenced my life… and allowed others, (as well as myself) to devalue my own worth.
There is no one to blame for this, not now… Not anymore. It is the past. Those were my decisions, and I would not trade them for anything. Regardless of the consequences, I would not be here today if things were different.
Tying up loose ends and cutting away dead weight has made my life enriched and fulfilled in ways that I have yet to fully actualize.... and yet last night forced me reevaluate things.
It reminded me of all the ties I have severed since then. Remains left unkempt without even an acknowledgement to signify its loss. I look back at where I was less than a year ago.. The people I surrounded myself with, and the people that currently remain.
And all I can think of is.... how much I appreciate this newfound silence.
I no longer want the same things I once did... My desire remains with recapturing remnants of my heart, while affirming parts of myself that I didn’t even realize existed.
The stillness and silence that has followed has been humbling.
This time has enabled me to cultivate a true sense of self, of love, and of home.
I am content… and though I don’t have much, I have abundance of everything that I need.
Friday, March 20, 2009
an interlude
I saw you in my dreams last night. which is quite strange, because it's such a rarity to dream... dream of others, dream of you. I find it disheartening that the notion of me aware... aware of you, will never suffice. that you linger… and weave within the most diminutive places… settle within warm spaces... permeating throughout my narrow consciousness.
it's unsettling that you are inescapable. that you will always be there. that as I write these words... I miss you... miss you more than my heart reasonably should... that I miss the warmth you gave me, that the memory of you still gives me while you’re away. in a cold that continually persists, you fill that space with light. that as I write this, I can read you in my words, in the songs that I hear, in the greatness of all that I see. in the pauses and long silences that break between each blink and every breath. and though there were others more significant in this delusion, I could see you.. remember you... my impression... in the periphery, lingering into view.
a 5 second memory etched in my mind, scarred in my heart. longing to recapture the warm summer past in my current cool spring. That’s what you mean to me.
it's unsettling that you are inescapable. that you will always be there. that as I write these words... I miss you... miss you more than my heart reasonably should... that I miss the warmth you gave me, that the memory of you still gives me while you’re away. in a cold that continually persists, you fill that space with light. that as I write this, I can read you in my words, in the songs that I hear, in the greatness of all that I see. in the pauses and long silences that break between each blink and every breath. and though there were others more significant in this delusion, I could see you.. remember you... my impression... in the periphery, lingering into view.
a 5 second memory etched in my mind, scarred in my heart. longing to recapture the warm summer past in my current cool spring. That’s what you mean to me.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Return to Sender
I asked, thinking I would get a different answer.
Different from all the others.
Thinking this time it was different.
I’m not one much for asking… or taking… especially when it’s the only thing I need.
In all honesty it was more like a wish.
The one thing I could only ask for, and give entirely in return.
For, I’ve never been one to hold on to much I could see, but feel. Measurements have never been my forte.
Increments don’t descend into inches in this vacuum, but more like miles stretched within an infinite space.
My placeholders are transparent, my gifts intangible.
It’s the only thing I know how to give:
my return to sender.
I wonder what this means?
Maybe it’s not something that’s meant to be given away.
Maybe it’s something meant to be shared in glimpses.
Bits and pieces,
but never an entire
whole.
Maybe it’s never been mine to share,
whether that be out of self-preservation,
or selfishness,
or because no one could ever truly give such a gift
and actually receive an equal return.
Maybe it’s time to give up that foolish notion…
time to finally bury my trinkets and placeholders…
time grow up a little more.
Burn the letters.
Better that than the alternative.
Different from all the others.
Thinking this time it was different.
I’m not one much for asking… or taking… especially when it’s the only thing I need.
In all honesty it was more like a wish.
The one thing I could only ask for, and give entirely in return.
For, I’ve never been one to hold on to much I could see, but feel. Measurements have never been my forte.
Increments don’t descend into inches in this vacuum, but more like miles stretched within an infinite space.
My placeholders are transparent, my gifts intangible.
It’s the only thing I know how to give:
my return to sender.
I wonder what this means?
Maybe it’s not something that’s meant to be given away.
Maybe it’s something meant to be shared in glimpses.
Bits and pieces,
but never an entire
whole.
Maybe it’s never been mine to share,
whether that be out of self-preservation,
or selfishness,
or because no one could ever truly give such a gift
and actually receive an equal return.
Maybe it’s time to give up that foolish notion…
time to finally bury my trinkets and placeholders…
time grow up a little more.
Burn the letters.
Better that than the alternative.
Monday, February 23, 2009
leftovers
the whispers
once pervasive clamors, dwindled into murmurs and muffled moans.
in bed, lingered the smell of leftover lust, soiled rain, and the indentations of bodies in motion.
now at rest.
the slowing down of hands, and limbs, and minds made her realize that things were not dead,
not in that moment,
not just yet.
and in his momentary gaze she thought she saw a connection.
felt a flicker.
only to penetrate deeper and find that all too familiar reflection.
a reflection that carried not the weight of two, but the emptiness of one.
and in that instant she realized that the weight was not one of depth.
not the depth of love.
not the kind of love that she could lend into.
the kind of depth that could steady her heart faster than any hand to break the fall from such heights.
he was in no position to make her fall into places of complete lust, or loss, or vulnerability,
because he was unwilling to give that of himself.
and in that overwhelming feeling of isolation she seized. ceased into her all familiar gaze.
empty. unfulfilled.
turned her heart into a slight slant
grinned to rebound the ache of another self-fulfilling affliction.
kissed him and went about her day.
once pervasive clamors, dwindled into murmurs and muffled moans.
in bed, lingered the smell of leftover lust, soiled rain, and the indentations of bodies in motion.
now at rest.
the slowing down of hands, and limbs, and minds made her realize that things were not dead,
not in that moment,
not just yet.
and in his momentary gaze she thought she saw a connection.
felt a flicker.
only to penetrate deeper and find that all too familiar reflection.
a reflection that carried not the weight of two, but the emptiness of one.
and in that instant she realized that the weight was not one of depth.
not the depth of love.
not the kind of love that she could lend into.
the kind of depth that could steady her heart faster than any hand to break the fall from such heights.
he was in no position to make her fall into places of complete lust, or loss, or vulnerability,
because he was unwilling to give that of himself.
and in that overwhelming feeling of isolation she seized. ceased into her all familiar gaze.
empty. unfulfilled.
turned her heart into a slight slant
grinned to rebound the ache of another self-fulfilling affliction.
kissed him and went about her day.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
the reminder
it hurts to hear the ache.
not the ache in whats gone,
but the longing in wanting.
wanting to be that,
that warmth.
that solace.
that good.
to be the space
between
the keys that ring,
as each melody silently
cries for
more.
the letter in each
word
begging for a promise,
in his prose,
in his poems,
in his promises.
sacred and unfilfilled
are these secrets
never to be
shared with
me.
for other ears
to other pasts
and other girls.
but alas, i will never be these things.
and yet, i can still feel that ache.
and know
that though such odes
don't belong to those like
me
i can still hope
that one day they will.
not the ache in whats gone,
but the longing in wanting.
wanting to be that,
that warmth.
that solace.
that good.
to be the space
between
the keys that ring,
as each melody silently
cries for
more.
the letter in each
word
begging for a promise,
in his prose,
in his poems,
in his promises.
sacred and unfilfilled
are these secrets
never to be
shared with
me.
for other ears
to other pasts
and other girls.
but alas, i will never be these things.
and yet, i can still feel that ache.
and know
that though such odes
don't belong to those like
me
i can still hope
that one day they will.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Maybe Not
as she sat there reading, it suddenly dawned on her. like a ray of overwhelming light to the unwelcoming eye. she would never be the protagonist in this story. the heroine in his storybook. the recipient neglecting a return to sender.
for many reasons she was still unsure of why.
maybe she wasn't broken enough. maybe she gave in too much, give parts of herself up too soon.
the push and pull made the inconsequential matter more than she wanted to admit… and in that moment she understood that the same hurt he experienced from others, was the same thing he was doing to her.
and in that she realized he was right. she really didn’t know this other person. couldn’t know someone unwilling to open up the torn pages that rendered his broken heart, or hers for that matter.
and maybe that thought made her reconsider, consider whether this was worth investing… effort, emotion, her heart into? maybe he would never share those parts of his past. maybe (for him), that was the past, and as far as he was concerned, not worth knowing. but maybe (for her) it was. maybe for as much as he gave, she would always know that he was just like the others, always hiding, afraid to give in, give it all… Let Go.
and no matter how much she cared for him, that realization would play like an afterthought…. of something missing… always lingering in the furthest most regions of her limbic system, like innate notion of a frown, always there, but never here.
for many reasons she was still unsure of why.
maybe she wasn't broken enough. maybe she gave in too much, give parts of herself up too soon.
the push and pull made the inconsequential matter more than she wanted to admit… and in that moment she understood that the same hurt he experienced from others, was the same thing he was doing to her.
and in that she realized he was right. she really didn’t know this other person. couldn’t know someone unwilling to open up the torn pages that rendered his broken heart, or hers for that matter.
and maybe that thought made her reconsider, consider whether this was worth investing… effort, emotion, her heart into? maybe he would never share those parts of his past. maybe (for him), that was the past, and as far as he was concerned, not worth knowing. but maybe (for her) it was. maybe for as much as he gave, she would always know that he was just like the others, always hiding, afraid to give in, give it all… Let Go.
and no matter how much she cared for him, that realization would play like an afterthought…. of something missing… always lingering in the furthest most regions of her limbic system, like innate notion of a frown, always there, but never here.
Friday, January 9, 2009
a clearing
today i walked along a path,
and found a broken home.
foundations once filled with sterling
now rotted from the outside in.
it's silver bricks once layed carefully
now displaced upon the floor.
grasping walls in my inability to feel the ground,
i lightly tread upon the surface, if only to avoid the cracks.
two hands decipher the lettering
hands distangling carvings of promises now eaten away by time.
my hesitation to walk any further leads me into questions, and more questions into more thoughts.
where did it all go?
why did it really end?
or is there more i just can't see?
i step away from the clearing
back into time
harboring speculations much heavier than when i began,
dragging the guilt of unknown loss behind me.
and yet, my steps guide me somewhere dark.
moving further away from my thoughts
away from the weight
as if each sound takes me further into suspension.
into stillness.
closer to the safety of shelter.
and found a broken home.
foundations once filled with sterling
now rotted from the outside in.
it's silver bricks once layed carefully
now displaced upon the floor.
grasping walls in my inability to feel the ground,
i lightly tread upon the surface, if only to avoid the cracks.
two hands decipher the lettering
hands distangling carvings of promises now eaten away by time.
my hesitation to walk any further leads me into questions, and more questions into more thoughts.
where did it all go?
why did it really end?
or is there more i just can't see?
i step away from the clearing
back into time
harboring speculations much heavier than when i began,
dragging the guilt of unknown loss behind me.
and yet, my steps guide me somewhere dark.
moving further away from my thoughts
away from the weight
as if each sound takes me further into suspension.
into stillness.
closer to the safety of shelter.
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