Do you want to dance?

My titles are always song titles.

My brother is sitting at the airport, delayed and frustrated I am sure. There is nothing we can really do, we do not live close enough to come to his rescue for a few hours. I sincerely hate flight travel and anything government related, really.

Christmas eve and day are over, over, OVER! Thankfully I made it through without completely exploding, but there were a few close calls. I swear, swallowing my anger and defensive urges is hard because they eventually boil over and must erupt somewhere, on someone usually. It has been like this the past year or two, maybe three. It is really hard to say. My memory is \s h o t\. I can't recall the simplest things, I have dementia most likely, at an early age though? How could this be, unless I am the freak of nature that I suspect, therefore proving myself right, which is rare but worth it I suppose. To be right, ahh, what a feeling. I like to be right. And why not?

So uninspired. I need to change this blog around, like pick a theme and stick to it, or something more exciting/entertaining then my boring, absentminded, drug-fueled thoughts over and over. Maybe add some pictures or something. I shall figure that out later. I actually have free time right now, what I have been craving. However I do not know what to do with myself. So I guess I'll just be.

Fakin' it.

I think we all fake it sometimes. Fake happiness, fake sympathy, fake caring for someone, fake out our teachers.. the list goes on. Simon and Garfunkel's song "Fakin' it" is fucking siiick. This whole greatest hits CD is really awesome. This music is beyond groovy; it relaxes me. I can relate to a lot of their lyrics. Now I am not saying I am a big faker. But it is quite easy to be. Especially regarding school, haha, I make my teachers think I care soo much and do all the reading. The truth is I think I get a huge rush out of waiting to the last possible second before beginning my schoolwork. Then I fly through it, with all the pressure, and come up short. Of course I come up short. But for the most part it gets done. I guess I like to get away with doing the least possible amount of work, which is truly pathetic. I will not get very far doing that, I recognize.

My mind is seriously foggy and clogged. I have had writer's block for ages it feels like. Maybe that is an excuse, I don't know. But truthfully my passion for writing has gone out the window. I know that I suck at writing. I certainly never get any props for it. I can't write poetry, I can't write prose, I would never have the patience to complete a memoir. It gets me down. Like this blog for example. If you ask me it is chock full of complaints and immature self doubt. I think I crave reassurance. Well guess what girl that is no way to get by. I am ridiculous for thinking people would actually someday pay for my work. I actually considered being a "freelance" writer, as a way to earn money, so sad, but true. I will never be good enough. I have no career ambitions, no chance at success, no ideas, no brain power, no talent, no nothing. Nothing. This is pessimistic but I am realistic. I am nobody. I am in college, two semesters down now and I still have no clues. Did I actually think I would? Yes, I had hope.

I long to play "Operation". It sounds pretty fun right about now. Pulling shit out of a body with tweezers. Maybe I should be a surgeon... Heck no!!!!

There was the girl in my poetry class. She could sing and speak with inflection; she was a musical theatre major. I was studying her the other day at our poetry slam, and realized something. She is stuck up. I thought she was kind of cool, kind of ballsy (for singing opera in front of our class). My opinion has changed however. I like to study and watch people, especially when I am high. I feel like I can know them, at least briefly, for who they really are. I can tell when people are putting on a show, and I do not really understand it. I can relate to it though. Sometimes I have to literally act confident. I have to tell myself to be a certain way, or else I will sit there so quiet, so withdrawn, so invisible. It is not fair how some people have it all: talent, intelligence, comedic value, good looks, money, a car. There are seriously people that have all that. And what about me? I try to be grateful, for my health, my life. But what else? Is there anything else really? Or were all of those things I listed completely superficial. How sad. I want to know the difference. I want to be different. I want to be someone. No matter how I look at myself, when I look within I see significance. I have to, have to, HAVE TO remember this.

These waves of confidence and then insecurity, star power and then shyness. Never ends. N-E-V-E-R. Make it stop. PLease. STop. Be normal. Be free at last. Quit being a slave to your brain. It will not guide you. Follow your heart and God, Sarah. If not then I think you will always be screwed over, stepped on, stabbed in the back, lied to, talked about, mistreated. Yes I am talking to myself as if I am another person. At this sincere moment of crazyness, it is time to log off. Good night.

Yes yes yes!

Today's goal is to stay positive. Hence the title of this blog. I need to think positively, speak positive words, etc. I hate using etc. Oh crap. "Hate" is not a positive word. Ok. I prefer to describe things or thoughts rather than writing "etc"...but my mind is blank. This is more difficult than I assumed. Here is the list: I woke up alive. This is good, I did not die in my sleep (hey, it could happen). Next, I took a groggy shower. This was nice, I like hot water and smelling clean. I enjoyed a banana. Bananas are shaped like dicks. Haha. I smiled while typing that. Also, bananas are healthy. More positivity!!! I spoke to Ben. This is a good thing. I kept my tone light, and blabbed about myself. A nice morning telelphone call will start anyone's day a little better. Oh man. All these happy thoughts seem strained and forced, illegitamate and pointless. I digress. Sarah you are happy: ) You are positive! OK next, I went to class, one of my favorites: World Poetry. Class was interesting, as usual, and went by fast. However, I did show up late (whoops) and made a crazy comment. But on a positive note, I feel as though my teachers are getting used to my various eccentricities. It is part of my unique and exacting character.

Enough of this.

No matter what I do, what I try, or think, or type: this is not me. I cannot be that fake. I can be grateful yes, but my writing comes out much more natural if I stay focused on not focusing so hard!

Time for dinner with a friend, and after that I simply must MUST MUST get cracking on my paper. Seriously. Now it is due tomorrow. Now maybe I can concentrate. Hey maybe if I get it done I can see him tonight. That would be relieving. I can't think so far ahead. I know me. I will be working until four in the morning. Sigh. Get a clue. Get a life. Get some ambition. Take pride in your work and enjoyment in philosophy. You know you feel cool mentioning that it is your minor. Well maybe not cool per se, but most definitely intelligent. This was my pep talk. Time to go, live, dream, and take action!

Summer I need you.

This blah day is dark, cold, rainy, and miserable. I have accomplished nothing. I am a lazy fat fuck. I have wasted 5 straight hours doing nothing but napping, which ended bad because of a horrific and vivid nightmare; surfing the internet for nothing in particular, and this includes face booking like crazy; and stuffing my face with disgusting, fattening, greasy, fried food: I had 4 mozzarella sticks dipped in marinara sauce and a large (unsalted) soft pretzel dipped in artificial orange cheese for dinner. What a waste of life and space and time. Ugh. I hate me. I wish, what? That I could go back in time to 5 pm when I got out of my last class? No, not really. Because it was already dark then. And I wanted to do nothing but go to sleep. I have been stressing hardcore about the three papers I have to write this week. I stress and stress and do nothing about it, just think and cause myself breakouts, anxiety, and misery. Not to mention the clear and obvious weight gain. Wow I feel so sick. SO sick. I wish I could just puke everything I ate today up. I wish I could move away to somewhere warm and tropical and without worry and snow. I wish I wish. I wish. I am tired but wired. I am sick and sad. I am bored and restless. Music is not helping. I need help.

Why world????

I do not know if making CNN.com my homepage was a good idea or not. Every single day there is a tragic, horrific headline. I am filled with disgust. I can not believe the people in this world. I am so sad. I am so angry. I hate the fact that there is so much hurt, suffering, pain, sorrow, fear. There are accidents that could have been prevented. There are wrongful deaths. There are shootings, stabbing, murderers, people being sentenced to death who in fact are innocent. There are school shootings, drownings, suicide, illegitimate practices; I could go on but I am in no mood to think.

I can't concentrate. My hands are shaking. The keys are being tapped so hard I keep making mistakes and going back with the back space and attempting to fix the word and my original thought gets fucked because my brain is in fight or flight mode and I cannot for the life of me remember what it is I wanted to say. I am so sad. I am so mad. Why. People are so ignorant are stupid and dumb and thoughtless and unintelligent and trivial and superficial and rich and poor and hurting and suffering silently. There is no out. No release. Nothing nothing nothing. I hate this planet sometimes. I hate myself too, for my many imperfections. I screw up like crazy. I make mistakes; I punish myself. I cry and ache and scream and yell and hurt others. I am good at ignoring or just plain forgetting about people. Because I do not always care. I never care. I rarely care. I choose when I care.

My hands are filled with ice and shooting pain, my fingers clenched as if I just braced my entire body for the jolt and breaking glass and screaming silence of a car wreck. My shoulders are tense, my heart is rapid, my breath is ragged. I am tired. I am wired. I have so much to do with no chance of getting it done adequately. This fear and knowledge of failure is propelling me to do what? Not thrive. That is for sure. I am procrastinating and skipping things and will certainly pay for my ridiculous behavior this semester. I do not know where the fuck my head is. I can't feel my heart. I take pride in nothing. Or something so damn simple and superficial it is not worth mentioning, but I will do it now, just to prove myself right. I take pride in getting a guy to notice me or talk to me or buy me a drink or bond with me over scraped knees. The meeting of the eyes, the Cheshire cat smile, the inviting gestures, the hair flip, booty jut, hair twirl, winking, blinking, snickering bitch that I am.

Fuck this.

My roommate is another one of those. ^^

She is seriously immature and I have two more weeks and all I am thinking about is suicide or killing her. God bless our souls. I am sorry for my evil thoughts but I am sick and tired and just ready to make moves. I just went to press "Publish Post". I stopped myself. I should not end this post here, that would be too dramatic and too like me. So my last comment tonight will be this. I just watched the film adaptation of "The Hours" by Michael Cunningham. It thoroughly depressed me. I am now sad. I am crying tears like raindrops that wash away this world's innocence and laughter and covers it instead with muddy acid rain. That did not even make sense.

Freewrite.

Here I am sitting at my desk in my dorm, looking at the keys on my laptop keyboard, feeling the hot flow of rich expresso in the form of a starbucks americano. i am here. Here I am. lol. the sun shines during the day, then leaves real early these days. it is all gone by 5 pm and i miss it. i miss the sun and light and warmth. that is all a human really needs, just love and lust in the midday sparkle and glittery sun shining down on the sidewalk, maybe drying up some lingering rain, maybe baking a worm into a tough little turd or changing the chemicals in mayonaisse to something poisoness and not so tasty on your tiny little ladyfingers made with chicken salad, mayo, lettuce, celery, chopped cranberries, and this glorious combination (which i would never eat) is resting atop a tiny piece of sourdough or even toasted italian bread. today is sunday. tommorow is monday. i am sarah. you are you. i like this. i hate this. i like to type hard and let loose my anger on this stupid keyboard which taunts me and tease me throughtout this fucking day! i just want to be able. i just need to do it. why cant i do it. why.why.why. why. tell me why! or at least DO SOMETHING make something happen, even a page, A PAGE, afucking single solitary page of writing for one of my HUGE PAPERS due tomorrow that i havent even started but managed to kill myself with stress this past week just thinking about it, and building this huge mountain in my mind, and not doing one damn thing to relieve this STRESS. JUST STRESSING ABOUT IT. THAT IS ALL I DO. I AM A FUCK UP A FAILURE I AM TIRED OF ME I AM TIRED OF SCHOOL. LAST WEEK AT THIS TIME I HAD OVER A FUCKING WEEK AND WHAT DID I DO? OH THATS RIGHT. NOTHING! NOTHING! GOT HIGH! DRANK! HAD SEX WITH A MAN WHO CONFUSES ME AND FRUSTRATES ME YET GIVES ME JOY! enough is enough my neck is strained and tense my breathing is jagged. my heart is irregular i feel nothing only pain and sickness and sadness. this depression is eating me alive. omg.oh my god. why. why? and yet i am still able to look at the other hand that stupid other hand which saves my sanity. at least i am not a a crack addicted bum sitting on the side of the boulevard begging for handouts and feeling regret when someone hands me an apple because all i really want is money for more crack! at least that is not me but who knows what my future holds because i swear it, i swear, i do not know where i am headed: down the drain or up the path of righteousness. who the fuck even knows any more. seriously. freaking the fuck out. here, now. i am here. it is now. it is time. i am doing this. I HAVE TO DO THIs. i need a reprieve oh wait bad idea because if i get a few hours to myself all i do is surf the internet, eat, do drugs, distract myself. i am so fucking DISTRACTABLE i swear if my head was not attached it would float away and i would worry about getting it back for one second until, i dont know, a giant panda leaps across my view and im like, "oh joy!" and forget the real world and what is REally going on with me.

Across the Universe.

A wonderful, fantastic movie. Inspiring, moving, truthful, sad, happy, psychedelic; "Across the Universe" has it all. Beatles songs are sang in different ways, giving the words new meaning and emotion. Truly a tribute to a legendary act, a dynamic foursome. Their angelic, soulful voices give me hope.

Binary Behavior?

Too often I sit here and try to come up with a random topic to feed my frenzy, when the truth is I should just write creatively about my daily crazy experiences-I may just get more feedback. Last night I went to "A talk on bisexuality", sponsored by the Pride Alliance. I dragged a friend along. The talk was given by a woman, "Wendy," who happens to be married to another woman; those two are from Massachusetts. She was interesting, but incredibly long winded with dull pauses in between her similar statements and reading out loud printed facts that we all (all 30!) had a copy of. There was a questionnaire on the back of each that we ended up using for the "interactive" portion of the chat/tutorial. Good to know that people are not lumped into two sexual orientations: Straight or Gay. There is apparently a six digit scale, with the numbers spread across the map. It was so awkward at first, at least for me; my face was red and my pulse burst; a simple game of naming your name and hometown eased the clog and students laughed again. I learned something though, I am not concerned with labels - I am who I am.

Philosophy reading for today.

I made an attempt to complete it, a small attempt, but two paragraphs in and my mind was swimming. It probably does not help that I am listening to John Lennon wail about his Mother on Youtube. Somewhat distracting, but such a beautiful song that I cannot bring myself to turn it down or off. So here I am, 30 minutes before class, blogging instead of studying. Typical! I just switched to "Give Peace A Chance", so inspirational and moving. John is incredibly dedicated here, he makes me blush, I want to follow him, do what he did, change the world. He is amazing, such a hippie though, haha. Long hair, a huge smile, glazed eyes, a positive, befuddled message. I am smiling. Nothing better.

Allison Hedge Coke, a visiting poet, is reading tonight; I need to see this because I missed Joy Harjo. I love poetry and poets and poetic images.

Guess I don't have too much to say, my mind is everywhere right now. Very hard to focus. See you later, blog! Peace!

I have gourds on my desk.

Is this appropriate? I think so. It being November and all. I realize that decorative gourds being on my desk is very irrelevant, but I have never been good at introductions, so it is a good place to start! I find it hard to introduce people to each other. At times it is simply because I forget someone's name. Most of the time I am more concerned with my next adventure. That is me in a nutshell I guess: adventurous. I like doing things. I like going places. I like seeing sights. I contradict myself here, because above all, I need to feel warm, safe, and secure. Everywhere. If not, I am uncomfortable. Call this a fact finding mission.

Facts about me! I am discovering the land of the free! My mind is a sponge, I want to squeeze it. I want to understand what it consists of. I need to know what is there, what I have bothered to include in me. Random things, most likely. Like song lyrics, quotes, away messages, nutrition facts. A constant stream of blah blah blah in my ear. My multifaceted mind keeps me guessing! I never know which way my mood will go. When I wake up, I am either ready to start the day (rarely), or I refuse to get out of bed or think at all (most of the time). I like sleeping. I guess it coincides with the whole "me wanting to feel safe and warm" thing. But who gets places by staying in a bed all day? Not anyone that matters. Like it is up to me to decide what and who matters. I matter! Haha! I MATTER. I care. I matter to me. I matter to my mom. I matter to my dad. My brothers. My sister. I fucking matter, damnit. So start believing it!!!!!

If I matter so much, then there is a reason for my existence. I have a purpose. I am here for the long haul, hopefully. And that's true.. I can only hope. I want to be here, on this earth, alive, for a decent life span! I do, I truly do. I am so scared however, that I am going to stupidly cut my time short. I need to care about myself. I need to love myself. I love me! I love me!

And I am so sorry if anyone reading this is disgusted with my so called superficiality and this conceited sounding post I am typing, but if you knew me.... If you could see me, if you understood; there would be no judgment. I don't want to be disliked or judged, obviously it is going to happen. I am insecure a lot of the time. I am really nobody special and I know this. TRUST ME. I feel a sparkle of light down very deep, I don't see it, I feel it sometimes, but I know it is there. It is always there with me. This glimmer of shining serenity gets me through the hardest times. I allow this faith to creep slowly up around me, because I revel in the quiet joy while hesitating to believe it is even there.

I do not know if this makes any sense. I am hyped up on caffeine. McDonalds iced coffee is truly crack for someone as addicted to caffeine as me. (Probably 4 cups of black coffee per day). Back to my insecurities. I am trying to break free! I am somebody. I am a daughter. I am loved. I don't always feel it. It is there. I gotta have faith! Like the Limp Bizcut cover. Enough of this talking up, down, sideways. Time to do some homework. I will leave anyone that bothers to read this with three simple words:



PEACE ON EARTH!



*And to Bonnie* Thank you; you are an angel. I was drowning in self doubt, wallowing in depression, weighed down by a thousand boulders. Your comment meant the world to me. To know that someone randomly found my blog and felt a need to comment. Wow. I really can't show you my smile through words, I can't explain why I needed it, I can just say thank you. Thank you. God bless you.

Marriage looks scary.

I dread it. I dread the future at times. I am sitting here, contemplating my parent's happiness. I don't sense much, I feel scared at times, and there really is nothing I can do but accept the sad fact of the world's imperfection. I feel used at times. I feel like a user other times. I am listening to Sublime and typing somewhat ragged, to be expected after three glasses of wine. So many assignments on the horizon, so much opportunity for failure. Or success, depending on how I look at it that day. I take pictures. I dance in front of the mirror. I die a little everyday. I feel the weight of depression sometimes. When I am low, I am low. When I am high, I am happy and stoned and generally out of it, not thinking. Until my brain kicks my heart in the butt, and I start thinking. I think, I think, I think. I think. After all is said and done, I just fucking think. And stare, and wonder, and think, and love, and leave, and wait. Time after time, moment upon moment, hour on hour. It all goes so fast. I can't catch up with myself.

Nothing inspirational tonight, folks. All musings brought on by a ridiculous conversation/ fake palm reading/ the arrival of my parents/ speaking to my mom. Just friends. Evilness.

Munching on candy corn.

That I am. Note to self, head down to laundry room at 7:20 pm to make the switch. This night, usually one for celebration, is filled to the brim with questions. I considered heading home. I thought about taking a nap. I pondered going downtown. I wondered if clothes shopping would make me happy. In the end, I am sitting here, blogging, doing laundry; doing nothing really. My roommate was asleep which is always fun. I try to be quiet while still making annoying noises, just because. Because of how many times I have been rudely woken up by her. Payback is a fucking bitch. So are you! But yeah, so when the room is dark and silent I am so confused! I do not know what to do with myself. Darkness tends to do that. Now she is awake and there is a small amount of light coming from her vanity mirror. Oh, I know why. She has exactly an hour and a half until she has to be somewhere. That is an hour and a half of getting ready! And spraying hair shit and 20 squirts of perfume!! I need to stop. Breathe. Ahhhhh!!!!!! Get me out of here!!!!!!

Imagine a soft green sweater and my warm contentment.

Reading the title of the blog reminds me of sitting next to a blazing fireplace, ash and sparks crisscross and crackle. A blanket, hot from the fire, is almost as crucial as a good novel and/or a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon. I am procrastinating. Time to do two simple errands and you'd think I had to cross a blustery tundra. Chewing on Australian Style licorice makes my just brushed teeth happy, and my disposition sweeter. Joy Harjo tonight in McEwen, that should be amazing. To be accomplished is to know true bliss, I bet, I would not know. I can accomplish menial tasks such as a shower. Whoop de do. Zippity Doo Dah. Zippity Day! Hakuna Matata. Hannah Montana. What the fuck is being typed right now, my slender hands have minds of their own!!! Time to see.


Peace on Earth.

Well hello.

Here I am again, the same chair, facing the same direction, my feet are propped up and my back has grown stiff. I love the internet. That post last night cracks me up. I was hammered. I literally passed out cold maybe a half hour after. Two bottles of wine and two beers plus a nice empty stomach equals a wild time ending with unconsciousness. I paid for it today of course. Restless, I kept running to the bathroom and throwing up even though it was 1:30 pm before I actually "got out of bed". My head hurts. I finished my entire bottle of water without using any of it to take pills. I have been binging on everything lately. Food especially. I get these intense cravings for sugar. First it was fast food, I got myself Arby's one night, donuts the next, McDonalds fries after that, milkshakes from Burger King. Yeah this was in the span of maybe 3 days. What a pig. Then it was candy, I would go to the school store and fill up on sweets, or get ice cream (only once thank God) from Cranston, oh and I devoured a whole bag of candy corn - my kryptonite. I fucking love it. Thank you thank you thank you stores for only selling it around October. I literally cannot find it anywhere. My throat hurts and I am trying to figure out why. I smoked a cigerette last night and several in days before that. I even bought a pack, this is a classic example of me binging. I "quit", or so I told myself, but it clearly didn't last because I have zero self control. That is, when it comes to sex. I can control myself quite well when it comes to s-e-x. Maybe because I have not had the greatest sex experiences; how disappointing and true.


No more binge talks. It's time for food porn. I am deranged. Oh and no homework done yet. Ahhh get on track, girl!

Mrs. Robinson.

So here I am. In my dorm with Ben. Just drinking and thinking. I am so ready to get the fuck out of here and go party downtown. I just want to get fucked up and love life, while not remembering one thing in the morning because that is the kind of bad ass mother fucker that I am! I am fast at typing woooo. My life is on its way to being fabulous, all I need to do is get laid, do lots of drugs, love, live, sleep, and basically party my way crazy .. and then I will be set. Set. Set. Set. I just want to fuck alll day. Not with Ben. Blah blah.

I see the first tinge of afternoon through the slightly opened blinds.

I just woke up, 12 pm eastern standard time. I am sleepy and a little hungover. Last night was pretty fun. I definitely met an interesting man. A 20 year old, no less. I mean he is extremely attractive and tall, which is God-like to me, but he has been through some shit and is not afraid to talk about it. He speaks about jail time and running from the law. He tells me about catching his dad cheating on his mom in his bed with a hooker. (Then beating his dad hardcore with a baseball bat). I have never experienced that kind of thing. I mean I have seen cheating take place. But my dad? Hell no. I don't even know how I would feel.

Enough about the boy. My face is frightfully pale and my hair is greasy, time to clean up and go eat breakfast at the dining hall. Yay!

Peace.

I am a slacker.

To blog or not to blog, that is a question I haven't bothered to ask myself in months. I have been too "busy" getting high, experimenting with psychedelics, NOT working, NOT studying. When did my life lose meaning? When did my ambition drain like boiling water through a colander? Who the hell knows. At least I am wearing a cute outfit today. Sad but true. I dyed my hair black two days ago. The box said "natural dark brown" ha what a joke. It's black as night. It looks hot though. I definitely stand out a little more. I am obsessed with it. With looking good, presentable, hot, sexy, mature, pulled together, sane, skinny. The list goes on. My looks, up to this point, have defined me. How freaking sad. What will I do when I age and it all goes away? Or some nasty car wreck morphs my facial features to make me look unrecognizable? Back to my clothes. Dark denim skirt. Purple lacy tank top. Green and dark blue plaid short sleeved shirt over top. The color combination here is beautiful. I love it. How fun to know that nobody is even seeing it. I am totally skipping class right now. I don't have the 5 page paper that was due today. Oh well. I will get it handed in eventually, right? Or maybe I won't. Maybe I will just die. Or go to rehab. Give up on life like I seemingly already have. My good moods and good days are short lived. I am serious always. I don't remember laughing this week. I do remember having a melt down last Friday, Halloween, because of a bad trip on mushrooms. I need to grow up seriously. But it is hard in this college town!!! Everyone around me is 20 and just starting out, and has not really gone through shit. I have been around the block and back, been pushed around and stomped on, lived through poverty, cleaned others TOILETS, and so forth. I have paid for a child that was not mine. I have graduated from a community college. Blah Blah. My favorite two words lately, because they don't mean A THING. I just want something. something. something. To travel, to learn, to love, to be happy, to be free, to fly, to sail, to stare, to ponder, to just BE.

My thoughts of the evening

If I don't have a plan, I don't have a purpose.

Movies are predictable.

"The Wackness" looks badass.

My sister got married in Las Vegas tonight. I miss her, and what it was like to live in the same house when we were younger.

Oh what a night.

I kissed a boy last night, and I liked it. Paul, very sexy and tall. That rhymes actually, nice. At the bar for Claire's 21st, I was somewhat innocently sipping on Malibu Coconut & Diets and browsing my options. My eyes fell on a familiar face, a face I have known for years: Tim. A pal from High School. We chatted and laughed, then I set my sights on his friend and the rest is a blur. We (my girl and I) ended up at their place, smoking and joking and toking. Out of nowhere I was being kissed by a god. Or an angel. Definitely a Greek god, complete with chiseled arms and a broad smile. OH man. It was brief, but miraculous. There are times when you meet and are attracted to someone, and then there are times when you meet someone intense and feel something powerful and passionate inside. This time was truly the latter.

Will I see him again? I want to say no, but fate is mysterious, and coincidences are all too common. He does have my phone number, my girl Yvonne made sure of that. Am I looking for anything serious? Of course not. But who could turn down sex with him? And therein lies the problem! He may have stds or worse: baby mama drama. I don't know. I don't have a clue about him.

All I know is our lips touched and it was magic.

A poem about love lost

forget it there's no going back
we can't go back
we won't be friends don't call me
not interested in what you gotta say
don't want to know what goes on now

run away from it all
that might actually work for you
too much here
too much keeps you here, your obligation
to me was scarce, so i
kept you at arm's length the whole time
and you'll never know

you'd blame, intimidate, manipulate, confuse
i could play that game--
way better than you don't forget it
give me the chance, i'd bounce
all over again, like a heartbeat
faster till we fall, no faith in that game
its a sad thing

now you're there and i'm better
doing things for me now,
barely standing up straight
somehow holding my chin up
it's impossible..
lucky for me
i refuse to cower

but something changed,
i ponder a solitary existence
so many stars
so many sides,
tell me who is real
oh not talking to him,
never again will i roll that die

Inspiration ?

My mind thunders a response
to an unspoken question
I must have accidentally asked..
This unwelcome interruption strikes
my silence and victimizes my voice.
Every fruitless attempt is a failure.
Let these influences destroy me,
sure, but I still have the
choice to overcome.
With effort, my mind
motivates my muscles to move
efficiently, and I tip-toe
carefully towards the end

Today is Pink

Floyd day, at least to me. The Dark Side of the Moon is an amazing collection of songs, I am really enjoying this relaxed feeling that has sunk over me, like a cool splash of water on a hot day, a gentle breeze tickling my sandy toes on the beach, a refreshing drink after doing the dishes. It is the payoff for all things normal and routine. It is the prize for the perpetually worked, a feast for the ears, an unexpected gift just because. It is the first sip of my second cup of coffee, when I start to feel alive and awake and suddenly renewed, joyous to spot the sun rising again. Because thank God, if it didn't, we'd all be in trouble. I need the sun to come up consistently, I count on it. Each day is a new beginning, a second chance, inspiration for appreciation.

"Imagine" by john lennon is my background music

i am missing someone. i don't know who, and i don't know why. there is a dull ache echoing through my heart continuously. i am lonely, fake, and fruitless. i am sitting here by myself drinking beer; i stuffed an entire pizza for one down my throat without even tasting it. i was hungry. now i'm lonely. my neck hurts from my hunched shoulders. i don't remember being young. i feel lost. i barely remember tom. i have several addictions. blogging is not one of them.

A poem, inspired by: "I reached into a drawer"

the orb tucked secretly away
into the depths of a bottomless drawer- the horror i faced,
withdrawing into a shiny shell like an oyster
i pose still as night, slowly, carefully
my tentative hand, (braver than me) takes
the icy cold plunge into the dense deep.
i wrap my fingers finally around it, this undulating
sacred sphere of wondrous amazement.
sizzling bolts and jets and flashes
erupted in front of my face
who knew? my jovial drawer, such a simple
part of my surroundings.
Without hesitation because i know what to do, i do.
She strolled silently by and glanced in a passing window,
never expecting the sight to behold her emerald eyes:
a white bright light, a stranger takes flight
the distant moon is closer now; she is a star.

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds..

..is a great song, I must admit. Some say it could be about LSD, but seriously would the Beatles incorporate drugs in one of their hit songs? Perhaps as an attempt to appeal to the masses. Ah well. I can enjoy their music just the same. It inspires me. It opens my mind.

And here I am creating a blog. Yay. Well, people of the world, you are in for a treat. A teensy glimpe into this warped mind which I call my own. Give me ten minutes of your time, please. But to be perfectly honest I don't expect that for a second. You see nobody ever actually asks about me. That is, no one really talks to me or asks me questions and has any kind of care about what my answers could be. This is a fact.

Another fact: I made it this way. This is alright, but at times I start to resent this moat around me. I don't feel lonely 24/7. I just surround myself with other vices like weed, candy, alcohol, porn even? A good book, a decent movie, a vague conversation, an imagined exchange with a dream man? or woman?

Secrets, secrets my world has many. I like it this way; I need to keep things to myself because sharing everything, opening my heart for others, attempting to rid my mind...none of it works. At this, I must end my night. But first, a checklist:

1. I am grateful that I made it home safely; no car wreck, flat tire, empty gas tank, etc..
2. I am grateful that I hung out with Nick, for he is very attractive, ambitious, and dreamy.
3. I am grateful that my family is here and alive.
4. I am grateful that Brian and Christina weren't hurt by the tornado in Atl.
5. I am grateful that my car is still running. This is a blessing because I need my car and I am thankful I have one.

Please God watch over my family and friends and Scott. Please allow Scott and Marisa to be together now.

(I'm sorry for mentioning God in such a casual context. If you want to go there, know this: I do believe that he sees and hears all).

Xo