Things I've learned

Don't Read if Easily Offended

I had your pants around your ankles before we were even half way up the stairs to your apartment. You held and me kissed my neck and my shoulders as you stumbled backwards up the stairs. We left my shirt on the railing and you opened the door. We fell onto the kitchen floor. By this time, we both had our pants off. You lifted me onto the counter. You stuck on finger inside me, then two, kissing me the whole time. I wrapped my legs around you and without hesitation you effortlessly picked me up and brought me into the bedroom. It was decorated by a female and you looked at me and said "I'm sorry if it bothers you". You threw me on the bed violently, but I liked it and giggled. You jumped on top of me and I used the adrenaline force to roll you over so I could be on top of you. We had sex that night until we heard the birds chirping. It was probably the best sex of my life. I know you had a girlfriend. I know you know I had a boyfriend. What you didn't know was that this was planned. I know your girlfriend. Or should I say, I know of your girlfriend. She slept with my boyfriend a few months ago. He told me. Through people, I found out who you were and set up an "accidental meeting". You were my prey all night. I will never tell you that. But I hope one day if you find out..... you will feel calm because of our one night of secret revenge. Xo yours truly.

Willow

Willow was girl with less then perfect vision. She saw every human for only the inherent good in them, even if there was very little. She was so confused and fell in love with moments and mistook it for falling in love with the people involved in that moment. People who know Willow would say she's smart...but Willow is a little silly.

On this particular day, Willow brought her camera. She brought it all the way to the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful day. She felt like she was on top of the world. Willow took pictures of everything. The branches, the ground, him, his shoes. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Willow met him in New York on a beautiful day. There were miles and states between them. Willow took an Amtrak train to Philadelphia to see him. It was a perfect weekend. The unknown surrounded her and he took the wheel and showed her everything. When Willow left, they held each other for several minutes in the train station. She could have left everything behind and stayed forever. She wanted to stay in the moment forever.


Willow went on vacation. Together he and Willow drove 13 hours down the coast. Beautiful water, beautiful sands. It was a cold day so they sat on the beach in their jackets. She took a lot of pictures. They wrestled in the sand and played frisbee. He drew their names in the sand. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

It was Willow's birthday and they took a train into New York for the day. He's showed her New York from a thousand feet in the sky. He was deathly afraid of heights, but did it anyways, just for her. She thought for sure this was it. The was the moment. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Ms. I

I miss being in recovery and being the center of attention.
I miss hating you because at least I knew how I felt.
I miss thinking I knew who I was and what the fuck was going on.
I miss being creative and the feeling of accomplishment.
I miss missing you.
I miss looking forward to our conversations.
I miss fucking.
I miss eating fast food
I miss feeling connected to more than one person at a time.
I miss reading this blog and finding more than my own words here.
I miss

“People don’t always get answers, and real life doesn’t always have meaning”

Ok for one second snap yourself out of the pop-culture bubble you live in. Stop your daily intake of gossip, rumors, top ten lists, blogs, reviews and interviews. Take a deep breath of everyday life. Fuck that burns, it burns with the stench of unfulfilled dreams, to do lists, unfilled internet surveys, dirty laundry, half eaten sandwiches, simmering lust, and burning desperation. Let me back inside the bubble before I expire. Every time I try to embrace my awkward humanity I find it too much to bear. Its too real for me to touch. I'm afraid. I'm scared that as much as I want it I wouldn't be able to coincide with it. Let me sit passenger side and watch life pass me by from the side view mirror. Its much more relaxing this way. Its so much easier to pass judgment and advice when its too late to do anything with it and I'm already on my way out of town. I like my movies to be realistic and my life to be idealistic. Let film portray the gritty boring everyday truths and let life be grand and moving. I think I got it backwards. I'm living in Pleasantville while on Tv I'm watching a documentary on the morning routine of the average American adult male, fascinating. Will I ever be ok with being normal, with being just like my parents, just like my neighbors, just like you. When will I relish my role as the consumer and realize I am not the creator. I am just a dumb American. Will these feelings that I am bigger than my environment ever go away. Are they just illusions of grandiosity to protect me from the harsh reality of my own existence or do they hold truth. At this point I could give a fuck less I think I would be fine with either one. Just someone pick one for me tell me what to do and I'll move one. There are no answers only questions. Life isn't a book. I cant wrap it up with a clever ending that ties all the loose ends together and makes me seem like a literary genius. No it doesn't work that way. Life is a joke with no punchline, a story with no revelatory moral, a painting thats just colors on canvas. Life is not Art. I'm sorry I ever thought it was.

Only in Africa

Only in Africa can you hear the word "rapeable"
and feel your lips not pull back to form a gasp
in fact its a laugh
at the absurdity of the situation you've found yourself in
Words, Ideas, and Concepts are fleshed out in the dark hues
of Broken, Beautiful, Proud, Beaten, Filthy Humanity
and I'm left asking
Where Is My Humanity?
it is overridden by the reality of my selfish prejudice
yet I didn't ask to placed on this step
I didn't ask to wear this mantle
I was born as the rich savior of the Third World masses
Mass around me say my name. I'll never feel more important,
more loved, more respected, more used than I do right now
Fuck protocol, heres a dollar for you
Use it wisely, I never seem to
Faced with the same situation I'd be the same
begging beggar you are
Manufacturing sob stories, like a top tier Hollywood screen writer,
You aim right in between the chinks
in my White American Capitalistic Kevlar
this Dollar burns in my pocket with the weight of a winning Powerball ticket
I've never felt so cheaply empowered
You value it and myself in ways I will never understand
and yet as much as I want to give this to you
out of the goodness of my heart.
I end up giving it to you to shut you the fuck up
like Third World Blackmail I pay you off to be quiet
and now you went from sob story to rob story
Plus your dirty in ways I can never imagine
I try to act like it doesn't bother me
But my own ignorance is more caked on than the mud on your feet
And I'm left to think ......

Has Christmas lost its Magic?

It's the Sunday after Thanksgiving and my family has gone to get a tree. I'm sitting here thinking: wasn't it just summer? When did November happen? And now, all of the sudden, it's Christmas season. My mother literally took down all of the fake leaves and plastic turkey decorations and on the SAME DAY put up the christmas decorations! How did this happen? It's almost as if we go through the motions to conform to society's demands. I've always wondered what would happen if one year I just didn't put up any decorations. Or if I put up different decorations instead. Aka pink flamingos and neon and a Miami-themed Christmas. I would be shunned by my family. Remember as a kid, Christmas held all of the magic a year could bring? I feel like I hit puberty and that was it. Gone. Will it come back once I have my own family and my own kids? I sincerely hope so. Is it wrong of me to want the magic back? Or do I have to grow up and face the realities of the real world? My parents have come back with an 8 foot tree. The ceiling (at its highest point) is 14 feet. This Christmas is already shaping up to be a disaster; with a miniature tree in a house built for a large one. I feel like Charlie Brown already. They should have brought back the saddest tree they could find. At least then I would have felt better about saving the saddest one. Why didn't you bring back a Real Tree? Something Huge and Awesome to look forward to decorating? Live a little!! Bring the magic back!! We have an 8 ft. tree that is dwarfed by a high ceiling. Christmas is officially dead to me this year and it hasn't even started. Hell, it's not even December yet!! I will never understand. Why not go big or go home? It IS Christmas for all intents and purposes. Do you stop caring after your kids graduate from highschool? Or are the kids supposed to stop caring as well? I just don't get it.