2.22. Beware of Dog

2013 must be the year of the dog.

Well, I’m over it.

After 2 years and 8 months of flying solo, I’ve made the sad mistake of dipping my toe into the dating pool. And I will just say, it doesn’t look promising. I suddenly have no desire to swim and foresee many days of sunbathing, dry on land, ahead for this girl.

I went on a “date” two weeks ago and…yeah. Some people will weigh one mistake against an array of awesome conversations and focus on the mistake. I can’t be perfect. This is where I shrug and admit, I wish I could have fixed that one. But hindsight is always 20/20. And so you move the fuck on. Like it or not.

I hung out with a guy this past Friday. I always call it hanging out. “Date” sounds like too much for me. But that is obviously one of my many problems. Anyways, we play pool, he takes me out to eat, we sit and talk for hours on neutral ground. We kiss. That’s as far as I will let it go, despite his best efforts to…um…offer pleasure. Side note; begging a girl to treat her body like a buffet, though amusing or exciting for some, does not work with every girl. I’m one of those girls that will decline. He even makes it so clear that he expects absolutely nothing in return. Still, I decline. A prude, I am not, but I will say this – I save scandalous sexcapades for my boyfriend (a woman should be able to be a slut for her man when need be…and only her man). And secondly, I tend to get bored when a guy goes to town. I feel like I should be filing my nails or making a grocery list. LMAO. I am sure someone will say, “well, you just haven’t had it done right.” I am not going to necessarily disagree with you….although there was that one…he was yummy, as were his skills…nonetheless, I was still making a grocery list. What can I say, I know how to multitask. HAH!

Anyways, so we kiss. That’s it. And for the most part, it was an enjoyable night.

And then, things get funny. Short answers. Weird lapses in time. Call me paranoid but a girl knows things. And hell if I wasn’t right. I send a text saying “you’re much better at expression in person than you are via text, that’s for sure.”

And the lovely response:

“I was. But I wasn’t completely honest. I wasn’t planning on anything that night. Just a friend to share a meal and laughs with. I should’ve told you that I’m married. I understand if you hate me now and don’t want to talk to me. It was unfair of me to not disclose that when things escalated. You’re a sexy, smart, charming girl and I got caught up in the moment.”

To which I respond:

“I feel really bad for your wife. Fix your shit and lose this number.”

I replay the evening and can list an abundant list of times this douche could have said “hey, I have a wife!” Why the hell are you not wearing a wedding ring? I mean, WTF?!?!?

There is a part of me that says there is someone out there for me. There is another, much stronger part of myself that says “bitch, you don’t have the time or patience to weed through the losers. Give up now.”

And that’s exactly what I’m doing.

This puzzle piece will officially stay a puzzle of one.

No exceptions.

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2.21. I’ll Take That

“If you can’t accept me at my worst,

you sure as shit don’t deserve me at my best. 

Call me crazy

For every outlandish, brash, bold, blunt verbal vomit I will lay on the land. For every lapse in judgement and weakened moment. For the insecurity that beats in my chest. For the endless array of questions as to what and why and how and when and what-if?

Call me crazy

For wanting love despite the madness. For believing in a pure, true, and deep connection based on something other than violent thrusts and faked endings. For dreaming about love stories even greater than the sun and moon leaving letters of adoration in the stars. For anticipating something so profound, the world just won’t know what to do with us.

Call me crazy

For expressing the happiness, sadness, joy, horror, thrill, worry of what this life has to offer. For being a cryptic read. For wanting effort, loyalty, honesty, integrity, passion, romance, intensity, forgiveness, growth, inspiration, laughter, conversation, sincerity, hope…and more laughter.

Call me crazy 

For feeling frail after the world I called forever crashed down upon me. For not being as strong, as tough, as bold, as brave, as resilient, as optimistic as the next one. For feeling just a tad broken after the glass castle broke. For not healing to your liking.

Call me crazy

Call me what you will. A failure. A disappointment. A mistake. A burden. I’ve heard it all before.

I am a beautiful chaos. Not meant for just anyone. Not meant for those weak of mind and heart. For some, a blessing to never know. To each his own. Souls like mine aren’t meant for the world to love. Being me comes with the risk of loneliness and labels.

Call me crazy. 

From a cowardly lion, that’s a fucking compliment. 

2.20. The Crusades

Whatever.

The majestic strummed a line on the violin…blood soaked fingertips…forcing melancholy melodies into the universe…bounced back from a red planet…echoing in the midst of gunfire and a decrepit womans screams.

Whatever.

Story telling empty pages of empty books…eating from empty baskets of rotted bread…swimming in salt baths minus the water…frozen in gasoline icicles…waiting for ignition…for…release…from still rivers and looming typoons.

Whatever.

Shedding her skin…she slips under and sighs with the sinking feeling of weightlessness. As nothing has felt so freeing as the intoxication of maddening drum beats and electric currents. A senseless sense of sensibility.

Whatever.

A lifelong concussion…forbidding sleep and sanction…love that died…resurrection sucked from the realm of possibility and replaced with a fucking song that means…nothing.

Whatever.

But the sun shines…

Whatever.

No, not whatever. The sun shines, despite memories. Despite mistakes. Despite the scars of a lifetime. Despite seeing the skeleton in the mirror instead of pushing it back into the closet. Despite the nightmares that lurk in the shadows of daylight. Despite the recorder that relays a constant replay of regret and rejection and “you’ll never do any better.”

No, not whatever. The sun shines, despite me. Despite a fear to live and a fear to die. Despite each breath one takes and the ones we hold in during those questionable hours right before the moon has bidden farewell to muskrats in meadows that never really existed.

No, not whatever. The sun shines and the world moves and the people continue despite the false pretenses recognized but ignored by carnage infused children living in the catacombs of our alternate selves.

Oh shit, none of this makes a lick of sense.

But it does.

To the lost spirits who will spend a lifetime hoping and wanting and praying and needing and wishing and dreaming but refusing…to accept…to claim…to feel. To the lost spirits who will self sabotage rather than bask in the heat of magic and the draft of cooing heat. Yes, cooing.

Because we choose this life. We choose to forge on in this crusade. Alone. Altered. Unarmed. Seeking mercy but expecting malevolence.

Sinking to her knees, that girl, she begged the wrong one to accept her. To embrace her. To forgive her existence. She relinquished control to someone who knew not the damage that could be done.

A lost spirit that believed she was safe behind brick walls. Refusing to allow a soul to know a soul. Safe…no. Wrong…more than likely. A ghost lay behind those stones, all the while, that girl lay submerged under the rubble of defeat.

Whatever.

Yes, whatever. As today is, like no other day, a reason to emerge from the shell. The sun shines. The crusade is not to hide from, but to feel, the heat.

2.15. Another Sleepless Night

Can’t sleep. Counting down the hours until mediation. Completely unsure how badly it’s going to go. Certain I have to keep composed no matter how irrational and rude the opposing party chooses to be. Perhaps indifferent, spouting off a ridiculous amount of lies, unwilling to compromise, audacious enough to request a single thing…probably a slew of things. Two hours with a puppet I can’t stand. A person I am disgusted by. A thing I loathe. Two hours that will most likely make me break down and cry the second I walk through the doors of my apartment. A day that will define where and when my future will begin.

I’m scared. Petrified. Worried. Concerned. Overwhelmed. Intimidated. Unsure.

It is needless to say but I’ll say it anyway. I love my son more than I love my own life. I cannot fathom my life without him and I wouldn’t want to. I feel at peace when he is with me and when I hear his voice, when I see him sleeping peacefully and when he is giggling up a storm. When he has sleepy eyes and when he’s pushing me to wake up. I love him more than anyone I have ever or will ever know.

The pessimist in me says tomorrow will be heartbreaking. The mother in me says that no matter what happens – I have to stay strong for my sweet angel. I will never stop fighting for him. I will never give him up. I will never walk away. I will never stop loving him with every ounce of my being.

I don’t know what level of evil and lies I will face tomorrow. I don’t know what schemes will be played but I know it’s coming. This is not paranoia. This is my current reality.

May my love for my son give me the strength to hear whatever is said in this meeting. And to keep my integrity despite the evil that men do.

2.13. Tragedy Is Our Reality

There is NOTHING that justifies killing a child.

There is NOTHING that explains away how someone could rip a gaping hole into the future,

There is NOTHING that makes me believe in the concept of pure evil as the capability of slaughtering the innocent.

There is NOTHING that makes me lose faith in human kind more than innocence being so blatantly debilitated.

There is NOTHING that scares me more than knowing NO ONE is safe from the insanity of an angry, over-privileged, self-righteous, greedy, egotistical world and its inhabitants.

There is NOTHING anyone can say to make tragedy better, easier, calmer, more bearable.

There is NOTHING that will bring those children back.

There is NOTHING that will erase the nightmares, terror, fear, and trauma from the survivors.

There is NOTHING that will ever make this make sense.

My heart breaks for the pain, the sorrow, the agony shrouded over the memory of those lost. My mind reels in pure loathing for the despicable disregard for others so easily displayed by the shooter(s). The facts are still unclear. But the only fact, the only relevant piece of this puzzle, is that children are dead.

The media is going to dive down on this like vultures. They will analyze the killer(s) as if they are specimens to be understood. They will try to make sense of this just as they have tried with every other act of terrorism on our soil. They will blame mental illness, the economy, music, TV, movies, a failed marriage, the turmoil in the lives of the assailants. They will put a stamp on it and in six months…no one will be talking about the 18 dead. No one will remember their names, what they wanted to be when they grew up, their favorite foods, their letters to Santa. No one will remember.

And the day after WE forget…THIS WILL HAPPEN AGAIN.

This is not an epidemic. This is not something to work toward curing. This isn’t Cancer. This is Death. This is now an inevitable part of our reality. Because when you do the same shit – you get the same results. This is something that isn’t going away. No matter how many poor attempts at understanding and discussion we pretend to have.

With every form of social media sending out condolences and cries of dismay…ask yourself…what are YOU going to do to stop this? What are WE going to do?

Because I will be damned if my son is going to be shot up at a movie theater. I will be damned if my child is shot up in the halls of his elementary school, his high school, his college. I will be damned if my son leaves this world before I do! Point blank period.

I don’t have the answers. I have only one suggestion. WE, as a society, need to realize that EVERYTHING we think we’re doing right – nix it. EVERYTHING we think we know – null and void. Throw away all of the options of normalcy and forget it. It’s gone. It’s time to think outside the box – because innocents are being shot up inside that box. Inside the confines of our little minds and our shortened attention spans. Inside of the walls of a world WE have built.

It’s bullying, it’s hatred, it’s killers, it’s the anonymity of evil. It’s that we live in a world in which ANYONE is capable of covering our children’s lives in veils of red. Ending a better future before it has a chance to replace the reality we SHOULD BE ashamed to call our own.

This post means NOTHING in the grand scheme of things.

These words are just those of a heartbroken, shocked, appalled, terrified mother. A woman who doesn’t know how to save her child. A woman who wants to figure out how.

 

2.10. Shooting Arrows

“Do you like to tear people down?”

Do I like it? No. Do I do it often? With ease. Call it self-sabotage, call it being socially awkward, call it rude, call it being a bitch. The point is – you can call it whatever the hell you want but it’s going to happen, regardless of its name.

I’ve written pretty openly about my predator-prey complex. I’ve told myself that in order to avoid being the prey anymore…I have to be the predator. In turn, I have probably scared off many people and subsequently been the prey of my own actions. Have I missed out? Probably. I’ll admit that.

I am an extremely flawed human being. My flaws may keep me in a position in which I am without companionship. It’s not something I’m excited to face but it may just be the reality of this girls life.

2.8. Quotes

Some are mine and some are borrowed. All are true.

It is of wasted body and breath to want to fix the world. It is with great respect I look to those who walk off the beaten path because it is never easy.

I am here not to validate or condemn a soul. The life I’ve chosen for my time here is mine alone and the only one that is my business. You take care of yours and I’ll take care of mine.

It is the human condition to love and want to be loved, it is the human curse to hurt others and to be hurt. We judge one another relentlessly yet wish not to be judged, a never ending cycle that shall bring us to our end.

Please don’t ask me about someone elses feelings, opinions, judgements, actions, etc etc as I am only one person and therefore I can only answer fully and without bias, for myself.

On that note, don’t ask me why I do what I do. If I thought it important enough to discuss, I would have by now. I do EVERYTHING for a reason, I just don’t feel the need to consult with ANYONE.
That is all.

“We must see all scars as beauty…take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.” – Excerpt from Little Bee by Chris Cleave.

If my mind doesn’t intimidate you, my mouth probably will, not for the faint of heart.

“Like uncharted territory, I must seem greatly intriguing…you’re not allowed, you’re uninvited.”

“I only care about the words that flutter from your mind. They are the only thing you truly own. The only thing I will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones and skin. I will not fall in love with the places you’ve been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind.” – Andre Jordan

You must never shout at the concrete
You must always shout at the stars
Concrete cant hear you.

“Words need not endorse the obvious.”
AE2

I love life and the strange people in it. No two alike, eccentric and chaotic, mellow and mysterious, everyone is a story waiting to be read and Im the avid reader. I am continuously enthralled by the wonders these people show me, teach me, allow me to see, blessed to learn more about our universe everyday from the living stars amongst us. Don’t be afraid to know these people, to care about these people, to love these people. It is the divine gift we have been given which makes us human. Enjoy.

“To enter the mystery of timelessness is to enter the sanctuary of the here, where we are given a chance at every moment to begin our lives again. Not one of us is perfect, and sorrows press upon us all. But, the universe is a merciful one, in which unlimited opportunities for new beginnings are built into the very essence of things.”

Let us take our head out of the clouds and into the light. Dwelling on fears of loneliness only creates loneliness, rage begets rage, and chasing a dream only makes it run faster away.
“I know my destination, I’m just not there…”
YET

I always say something wrong
I always speak right when the thought hits me
I always offend at least one person in the room
I always talk too loud, too long, too fast
I always make people >.< o.O or =O
I always second guess the last 5 things I just did
I always do them anyway
I always share how I’m feeling, even if its ugly
I always fuck up
I always say I’m sorry
I always mean it
I always fall
I always get back up
I always want to win
I always lose
I always dream the impossible dreams
I always come back to reality
I always live in the past
I always want to be in the future
I always forget the present is the gift
I always care…even when I don’t.

It’s not what you say but what you mean
It’s not what you give but what you hold back
It’s not who you were but who you are
It’s not who you are but who you’ll be
It’s not what you do but why you do it
It’s not why you care but when you show it
It’s not what you know but what you don’t.

1%
That’s exactly how much of me you know. Judge that 1% Label that 1% Hate that 1% because not even blood knows the 99. It’s all in my head, all in my heart, all in my soul and you aren’t welcome there. These are the places you can never molest, never dictate, never contaminate. This belongs to me. *Locks the door and throws away the key*

You are full of fatuity…and so I forsake you.

“The writings easy, it’s the living that is sometimes difficult.” – Charles Bukowski

Dont play dead before you have to.” – Wally Lamb – The Hour I First Believed –

Sometimes, we sacrifice who we are for who we think we should be, who others will accept us as. In seeing friends/family/strangers battle this, in seeing myself battle this, I know nothing is greater then having self. Flawed; work on it…but don’t lose you. I wont. This is my face in my mirror, and I’m alright with seeing me.

“We’re always looking in the wrong direction. We ponder the stars while burning the earth, the bullet we’re running from is almost never the one that hits us.”

2.3 – Consider This…

At work today, it was brought to my attention that one of our spot freezers was not working. After informing my manager, I was instructed to dispose of all of the food within the freezer.

I truly felt sick.

I can’t even explain how many pounds of food I threw into a green dumpster. Whole ducks, oatmeal, chicken and steak, ravioli and even donuts. A shopping cart overflowing with food. Food that could have fed homeless people, zoo animals, contributed to compost heaps. Anything instead of being thrown into a dumpster for the flies.

And I’m asking myself what the hell are we doing? Why do we not have someone to call? “Hey, our freezer just broke and we have an immense amount of food…can you come and pick it up and do something with it…anything?”

According to StopHunger, at the time of this publication – 29,400 people died of hunger today. 29,400 PEOPLE.DIED.OF.HUNGER.TODAY.

Throwing that food away today made me feel like I am apart of the problem. Because I am. Because I’m not doing anything to change the situation. I can sit here and write a post about the situation or I can do something to change it.

Let’s get started.

2.1 – The Short Truth

Your fiction is causing friction amongst the crowd

A lyrical ambassador for prolific, habitual lies.

A deconstucted capsule of a man

Once enriched with sense

Now, senselessly ingrained with a vengeance

Best left for your mother.

1.187 – Evils Voice

He berated her; calling her names for all the world to hear, mocking her in the presence of strangers. She didn’t say a word. She avoided all eye contact and just held the money in her hands while the cashier waited for some form of tender. The cart was full and she didn’t have enough money. And he humiliated her for it. He took out all of the things she had wanted and asked them to be removed from the final bill. He insulted her with each item he removed from the cart.

The transaction was over. And he continued. Vocalizing her inability to get a job. Blaming her for the job he was forced to take to provide for the household. He told her just how dumb she really was. Every time he walked by her, he leaned into her ear and mocked her a little bit more.

Their son sat five feet away.

This is not my story. This is the story of an unheard voice. One that has not had the courage to say “no more,” to the abuse. Purposefully demeaning someone for the sheer gratification of establishing control is sickening, repulsive, and pure evil.

I hope that girl finds her voice. I hope that man loses his. I hope that child learns that his father is an example of what NOT to be.

We have all heard the voice of evil. We have all been the voice of evil. If not our children, what is worth making the change?

I hope that woman figures it out. I know I have.