Monday, March 30, 2009

I have had this idea for a while. I want to write a story where we all write different chapters. It will be ongoing and on this site. Any ideas or suggestions?

The person you love to love.....











I have become the Idea I've always idolized. (This idea alone is crazy to me. That I could be for someone what I've always looked for. That I could let someone down from a position that I could never, ever in a million years occupy. I'm not here to rescue you I can't even save myself... but- maybe together we can create something beautiful. Our own perfect idea of utopia where we are simply as we are...perfectly imperfect)
I've looked at women as ideas, something to totally complete me. Something totally perfect, created inside my head to be my intellectual complement. They are always movie characters that I can feel and see and talk to. My very own personal Kate Winslet, Scarlett Johansson, Helena Bonham Carter, Natalie Portman. Its always the fucked up girl in the corner of the party that isn't going with the flow. With the mysterious eyes and a story to tell. Indie cred to boot and she knows all my favorite movies and all the bands I don't know I like yet. Yet she is human so human. My Natalie Portman has dirty fingernails and calloused feet. My Kate Winslet has a drug problem. My Helena Bonham Carter is just as scared of the world as I am. Me and my Scarlett share an affinity for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and are laughingly awkward. They are not ideas they are people and that's a damn shame. They let me down and pick up the pieces from the pedestals we put each other on. I am just as fucked up in all the ways I silently pray they aren't. But with each conversation, situation, missed phone call, and disappointment the make up fades and what is left is just as beautiful as everything I've ever thought it could be. To all of you and you know who you are I love you so very much and am so thankful to have you in my life exactly as you are. Thank you for inspiring me and letting me know it will always be OK.

3 28 11 27

A tad bit smaller than Grand Central Station and encompasses a more welcoming feeling, there I was. I walked up the stairs off the train. Philadelphia. My first time visiting and had an overwhelming mixture of emtions. Traveling alone has never scared me. My persona seems to attract and I enjoy that. He got up to throw away his trash. If you look to the right as we go over this bridge, you can see the NYC skyline. I smiled, nodded, and thanked him. I already knew the information he was giving me but I was so amused by the fact that I was going to have a tour guide for the next couple of hours that I just let him think he'd taught me something new. My thoughts... he lives for that. He was a frequent traveler, I could tell. The employees on the train knew him. "Where are you going young lady?" he asked. I smiled, sat proud, "Philadelphia" I said. He didn't ask me what I was going for or why I was alone. I think he had already created his own version of my story... and in fear of ruining that, he avoided the truth. Maybe his story was right on, maybe it was far off. He was interesting. Probably near about 65 years old. His hat had a feather in it, it was, for some reason, comforting... his feather in his hat. Why? I'm not too sure... maybe he reminded me of someone.. I don't know. We had a great conversation about the history of Pennslyvania until he left me in Newark Penn Station. So from there I rode alone, in silence, to think about the events that would take place over the next couple of days.

Never had I thought it would be so perfect.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

..........i dont even have a clever title for this garbage.......

I feel like I've been stuck in this slump for too long.
My inspiration is gone.
Writer's block has piled it's rocks high this time.
I sit, and I try to write. I know that I have it in me.

It's so frustrating to know that the potential and the passion is there
And not coming out!

I even went back and read through my writing portfolios of old stuff I wrote.
I went back hoping that it would spark something inside me.
Hoping that it would somehow bring back whatever it was I lost.

I was so creative. I had visions and I wrote them down.

What is blocking my imagination? Not even imagination, my ability to express
Thoughts and feelings effectively.

So I sit here today. I opened this "new post" screen hoping that if I looked at it long enough I would have some sort of inspiration or at least something interesting to say. So here I am, I feel the need to write but I don't feel the ability right now. I want it back.
I need it back.

My brain is still working, it's just not communicating with my ingenuity!!

Monday, March 16, 2009

better late than never

I finally felt it.
11 months it took.
I looked at you, and I felt this incredible wave of warmth inside me.
I worried for almost an entire year that it would never come,
I felt like I'd just settle for what it was...
A friendship for me and a crazy-in-love thing for you.
I was jealous, I wanted to feel it.
I loved you, I do love you,
And now I know that I'm IN love with you.
I never thought that it could take me so long,
I figured it was a lost cause, but I'd settle
because it's better to be loved than to be alone.
And to think I almost threw it away.

When I looked at you,
At that moment I could have cried.
I waited and was convinced that moment wouldn't come for me.
And then, when least expected, it hit me.
I knew that I need you in my life.

They always say, patience is a virtue
I think I've finally acquired that virtue,
And with it a love to last a lifetime.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

I looked at you through the corner of my eye.
Cataloging your faults, and trying to see if you had figured out mine.
Letting the miles pass us by.
I don't like the way your mouth sits,
and I hope you don't mind all the blemishes I posses.
When you touched me for the first time
I didn't feel that electric emotional shift I'd been hoping for.
That's too much pressure I've concluded to put in one moment,
let alone another man.
Because I did find comfort in our conversation,
the way the words just escaped me.
I love the idea of being the person I want,
and not the one I was in front of you.
Maybe your mouth has to be positioned a little less then perfect,
in order to make your words more sincere.
Maybe love doesn't have to begin with all the dynamics of a great love story to be real.
I don't want a wildfire romance that will burn out soon.
I'd rather have a relationship that can weather any storm with passion so true.
We ended the drive, recapped the night,
and laughed at the awkward silence before saying goodnight.
As I drove off I wondered could this be the beginning of something worthwhile...

3 Things

3 things i hate about you:
1. you're a hypocrit in regards to some things. in your eyes i will always be compared to her.
2. you've hurt me more times than i can count
3. you can never just be my friend you always question our relationship. i wish you would just let it be.


3 things i like about you:
1. you're passionate and we can talk for hours about everything and nothing
2. your curiosity for history and the way you speak
3. the fact that you question things that most people accept and you're willing to admit your faults




3 things aren't enough.

leave of absense

I have to admit, not only have I not been posting here, but until today I haven't even read any posts. Reason being, it has become a depressing place to be.
I know it's easier said than done, but living can't be done in the past and you can't live for the future either. Life is a day to day thing. You wake up and you face what's in front of you. After waking up for years and dwelling on my past, it finally became too much of a sickening process. I now face each day with a cleared palate and fresh outlook for the day at hand. I can't change my past relationships, I can't change what my mom let me wear as a kid, no matter how embarrassing it was, and I can't fully control what's going to happen tomorrow. What I CAN do is take today and make it a good day. I can wake up being grateful that I've been granted another day, and I can wake up knowing that today is a small part of a whole. If small parts of a whole are good and positive, then the whole is positive.
Do I have bad days? Of course I do. But I remind myself, one bad part of a big whole, doesn't make the whole bad and tomorrow is another day.
I don't know, maybe I'm taking this all too literally and personally, but visiting here is depressing. It's not a positive uplifting experience. I joined here with the intentions of working on my writing, and it's become a place to vent frustrations, which is fine, if that's what is needed.
So, after today, I'm going back to being here on my original terms and intentions. My posts are going to be my writings and not my woes. No ones woes or issues are original, we all face challenges every day. They're original to no one.
I'm not here to condemn your use of willowchronicles. If venting your frustrations here is helpful to you, by all means, continue to do so. And if I have a word of comfort or advice that might be useful to you, I will share it.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Ladies Room

Set up the scene.
It's 8:15 date March 5th 2009.
Celebrating 3 years of our Life.
If you look down you'll see a stone sitting perfectly
on my left ring finger making it official.
Check comes, I excuse myself to freshen up.
Once we hit the road won't be much time
til we're locked up in the room.
Staring at my reflection, through my diamonds light,
thanking my lucky stars for the man by my side.
Startled because when I open the door I step into a world of silent cries,
21 year old female tears running down this young girls face,
and what appears to be a mark across her cheek.
Walk into the stall grab a couple squares hand them to her.
Being a female you grow up knowing
the Ladies room is refuge to whatever goes wrong outside that door.

"Are you alright?"

Embarrassed by her appearance,
she takes the squares, and cleans up her smeared make up.
No words exchanged, so I turn my back to walk away.

"You know it wasn't always this way."

As she stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror,
I turn around.

"He use to be real sweet. Bought me things, showed me places that I had never seen. Told me I was everything he could ever need."

The room went silent.
As she composed her emotions,
she turned and looked me straight in the eyes.

"I understand the life he leads to provide for me. Living in the city you know it's hard to make ends meet. So I promised I'd hold him down while he stepped out, til I heard word on the street he was creepin' behind the scenes. Confronted him tonight, that's where this mark across my face comes into play."

I put my hand on her shoulder,

"Honey you shouldn't put up with that, no man should ever lay a hand on a woman, just to prove his strength. Come on now you have to be stronger, smarter then that?"

"I don't need your pity."

She snapped, moved her shoulder, and stepped back,
raised in the hood you have to project a certain persona
if you expect to survive.

"You know I seen you and your man from across the room. Smiling, laughing, you can tell he's in love with you, that he lives the right kind of life. You two probably live in the suburbs, so what would you possibly know about strife? If I leave him I go back to the projects, back to working for minimum pay everyday. I'll never break away from the ghetto that way. I'm 21 years old no High School Diploma, he took me off the streets. Laced me in designer things, nothing but Louie, Gucci, and Prada touch my back. Every morning I get to choose between the Benz or the Rova."

"So you'd put a price on your worth?"

As I walked towards the door to make an exit,
I stopped long enough to look at her in disappointment.

"I may not live in the ghetto, but where I live definitely isn't the suburbs. And ya my man does live the right kind of life. He was in the military 4 years served his country proudly, and provides for me fully. Growing up was no joke, and home was the last place I wanted to be. But this has nothing to do with the type of life he lives, or the type of past I have. Cause if he ever laid one hand on me, or disrespected my worth, my bags would be packed and Id be out the door. No words could forgive any mark he'd leave on me. You see I respect myself much more than to ever put myself through that. So when you sit here and give me your story, sorry if I show no pity cause it looks like you know the type of life you're living by continuing this relationship. So if you don't value your life enough to walk away, then basically your life's a waste, and you deserve anything that comes your way. Before I met my man I was working 2 jobs, going to school full time. Living just fine without him by my side. He enhances my life, and his love enhances me, but if need be I'd have no problem leaving."

I opened the door, and walk out of the Ladies room,
and see my husband standing tall,

"Babe what took so long?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Can we just go?"

He put his arms around me, and begin to leave.
I see the stranger walk up to her man,
from the corner of my eye.

"What the fuck were you doing in there? Watch when we get home,"

As he grabbed her arm, and tossed her like a rag doll.
She looked at me, and all I could do
was shake my head.
She put her head down,
and we all walked away...

Next day my husband and me wake up real late,
night of love making to blame.
Sitting at the table he's reading the paper,

"Babe remember the restaurant we were at last night?"

I look up as he says,

"An unidentified 21 year old female was shot in the parking lot. Apparently the boyfriend and her were fighting. Witnesses say she was trying to walk away, when ol' boy put three in her chest, fled the scene, and left her to bleed, ambulance came but said they were too late, the girl was pronounced dead on the scene. Tragic don't you think?"

Sunday, March 1, 2009

its been awhile

Its been a while since I've posted anything. I haven't really been feeling inspired lately. I'm not sure why but I haven't written a song, poem, or blog in a long time. Speaking of blogs tell me I'm not the only one that checks more to see if they got comments then if there is a new post. I love comments and that my writing resonated with someone. Keep the posts coming Love you guys.