And American Hooooooney

No words of which to speak. No games in which to engage. Realer a reality than ever realized was realistically real. Little is the same as ever and going back to whenever, where ever is far from a plausibly desirable outcome. The very composure of my brain has been refashioned with a refreshed perspective so brilliantly bright that usable descriptions be sparse. Must feel it, be it, know it....as I know it....know you....know this new world. Of now. Of foreseeable futures. [[I never felt it. I never knew someone could get inside my soul the way you do. Yeah, you got me in the palm of your hand. It's beautiful and terrifying.]] Yeap, I'm what you call a goner. I confront these challenges and fearfully joyous tears with a fervor once reserved for.....when? I don't know when. Clearer than the clearest Mediterranean blues and Grecian whites. Yeah, I see you and your dangers. I've warmed up. Ready to navigate the infinite abyss and all that jazz she loved so much. Thank you for you. Existence. Here. Now. This life is...life.

I might get lost but I won't be lost. Never can it be so when highly valued roots and connections present themselves as frequently as trees and bees (aye, me. Survive. Survive. Until I die). On my knees. These bees. I will be as I BEE as I bee. Just me.

Please know I love you all and am ever thankful for your support and readership. Serious apologies for my many weeks of neglect. Here I be. Ready to rock your body.....please stay. xooo [the reeeeeeally good kind that buckle those knees of yours and implore you to utter "mmmmmmmmm.....]

Interviews and Exclamations

I am SO alive! Stoked something solid. Pumped past passion. Whatever you are doing, you're doing it well. And me, I'll add. If there be no call of affirmation (UPDATE: I definitely got the job), I will remain in the pleasure of these leaps and bounds. I think it's true. Really. I think I might really be....awesome. The legit kind. The desirable and influential kind. Impossible to describe how spot-on the mojo was...damn was it affirming. Swirling around the room as in a creation via Van Gogh. A soothing and soulfully pronounced beat, compliments of Sade. I get it. This had to happen just as it happened. I am illuminated with the indescribable glory, along with the scents and pending tastes of that which is Harold's Chicken (UPDATE: I AM ADDICTED).
**Check out my buddy [thee awe-inspiring and motivating], Emanuel Vinson.


Edit edit edit edit edit edit EDIT. FYVM.
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This is to the necessitating of scrubs and the lacking of desire in all that is creeps. The scrubs be simple. But you....? OH, it had to happen. Should of happened longISH ago. Did happen. Bullshit away the faulty logic of violation. I might forgive but certainly don't forget. Shake, shake, shake the faith. Always. Again. Again. So I continue. The ongoing process of self-protection and doing what is right. To me. Your input isn't valid. Truth. You've corrupted this thought process, the very security I knew. The capacity for beauty has given way to misjudged violations and frustration in knowing that help is but a step away. Get some.
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What makes this dandy and tolerable? Podcasts. Best one ever? Poddy Mouths. Listen. Love. Learn about some of the loves of my life and the definition of they-didn't-just-go-there conversations. I am featured in episodes 11 AND 12. Check 'em out.

<3 always,
Alejandra

P.S. Let's hang out soon and laugh about the strangeness. And life.

Of These Decimated Chains

Different. Always do I declare claims of an experienced difference. In feelings. In mindset. In disclosure. Yet again I find different to be infinitely linked with preferable and awakening. It can be said that the only surefire promises in this life or the next are death and change. From this juncture I'd steadily accept both. AND also life. Oh so much for embracing and snuggling. Impossible to foresee attached comforts and unintended satisfactions. Apparently I can get some. From the simplest of beautifully bonding means. Kind of unreal, really. I can't be THAT fantastic, can I? Can I? Be it true that those you surround yourself with are a reflection of what lies within or out? If so, then I must be not only noteworthy, but also deep, intelligent, and kinda silly. Accurate self-concept seems a taxing feat, riddled with doubt and misinformation. Me: my toughest of critics, I gather. Me: in a full-on battle of confidence and assurance.

"I see you as a strong woman," he responded. Then there was the strength I never knew I had. To hug myself in the midst of fears and tears [REjoice in the recurrence of happy tears. HAPPY for happy mist]. To embrace solitary existence [while being ready to rock provided desirable conditions.....now, maybe?] Is it, likewise, my weakness? The flood gates typically close up just as quickly as they release BUT the current conundrum is brilliant. Fucking brilliant. Do it up real!!!
I am as I am, hopelessly flawed and struggling to grasp implications of past trauma drama. I am one with the damned, it seems. With skulls on my shoes and a bone in my nose....bells on my toes. AND also gorgeous, stated and internalized. Thank you for everything wonderful known to me and you. Brain explosions and screams of joyful rage. This is my journey. And I love it.

Angelic Vocals

Of all the days. Of all the ways. You did it today. Like THAT. The only way you saw fit. The only way that made sense. But to me? It’s just another frustration that exhibits the outcome of emotional stunting and hermit tendencies. I could equally call out my issues and limitations, but self-hatred isn’t something need be practiced for I am already well-versed. It’s not a shock. I am aware of the possibilities and needs I am short of fulfilling. So for now I breathe deeply. I danced like I danced and then danced some more. Morrow, sir….morrow. Dealing with alleged grievances we shall. Outcomes likely pluralistic and fragmented. Our VERY relationship at stake you said….wow. Ok.

These past few 9-4s [AM] of musical intake rendered me exhausted and wordless, yet evidently enriched and thankful. Thankful for the sensuous passion via Company of Thieves, the irresistibly egotistical rage of Future Rock, the dependability of Murder by Death, the sensitivities via MC Chris, and down-to-earth nature of Maps and Atlases. Success. Yes, this is the look of success. Worn-out success, but success. Bonds were forged, discoveries were made, ear drums damaged yet again. Cheap za. Multitudes of wrist bands. Nicely done, DKB and KSP [it don’t break even, no]. Again and again. Paleeease.

You. You. A tentative answer to a horribly constructed question of snuggles and dedications of sorts. You. Brilliant and promising. The honest and goodness of this synopsis is that I need not such company though as of late I acknowledge desires that it be present. No pressure, pressure, PREssure. Be as you are. FANtastic and new and full of introductions in the flesh.

Couches. Off I zonk.

This Ain't No Acrobatics

Akin to a gazelle, I tread the back and forth of the full gamete of sensations. Feel it ___. I worked every group and now shake with glorious exuberance and revelation. The pieces seem the formation of a fully realized Mona Lisa or David or any construction via Klimt. Art IS my first love, you all shall be any and all mistresses. As simple as the tunes through these ear mice (HAaaaa HA), so incredibly forward and visible. Cut to a routine shake-up. Giving and giving more still. Relating through newness whilst reflecting upon the familiar and all the while knowing the luckiness of being loved by many and finding the courage to transform that very love into self-belief. Belief that what I'm doing is right or wrong...or just IS. Belief in my place in your life and subsequent bonds. The kind that fortify the soul with overwhelming connections and provoke gleeful jumps of containing bounds. YES, and belief that I CAN do it. Really. Really. Examining the same reflection of the past 24 ages, I begin to recognize that asserted flickering sassy and curious flame. Oh, didn't you hear of my lioness-fueled fire? Chuckles of sextrology (p.232): "The Le[G]o woman is drawn to men with ardent natures who appear to wear their hearts on their sleeves which explains why Leo women are so notorious for falling in love with Latin {Haaaa...OH hhaaaaa. I hate ALL of you.}, Mediterranean, Caribbean, and other mother-loving emotionally-fueled cultures prone to fervent displays....guys of such swarthiness have more than physical appeal, they embody passion to the Leo woman's mind." It curses me so gooood. Bunk or not, I laughed. Out loud. Victory always.

I feel good. I feel fine. Never been so satisfied. You got me feelin' emotions...E-MO-TIONS. Me. Me. Me. The culprit. Me. Rocking on this wave of much-needed forward mobility and confidence. The dance, the dance...of confidAnce. Come what may cause I'm [un]stuck in the middle with you. Nowhere but where I'd never be. Consider yourself warned. Let's gooooooooo

Pick it Up and Throw it All Around

No longer can I care. I can't. The trivial concerns and speculations are drowning me and these once vibrant prospects. It's all bullshit, I know how to swim. So, I'll say it plainly...I am afraid, broken, weak, and struggling. Struggling with the notion that I'm the only one who can put the stopper on this sorrowing status quo. Me. Alone. Suggestions appreciated, but unless they morph into motivation it might as well be going in one ear and out the other. Or IS it already? Ah, a problem identified? Listen. Listen. Lust less. Yes. You broke me and I broke me. I will and did break myself. Continually. Regardless of how many times I reflect and recalculate, it's impossible to shake the sense of dedication and longing. That makes me possibly the worst kind of self-hating types. And yes, I'm angry about WISHes. Angry that I am more prone to being my toughest critic than my best friend. Frustrated that I dwell much on talk and spend less on demonstrative actions. And also that sometimes I construct these thoughts for others more than myself. Though now....right now, this is for me. Beautiful and powerful ME. These words are steps, albeit small ones. Promises I'm sick of breaking. Sometimes there isn't a silver lining but in this case I'll be constructing one of my own.

How ever far away, I will always love you. And in this chaos and weakening weakness, I find strength. Through struggles I am forced to question the validity of fears and limitations. Acknowledging the destructively painful cycles of late nights, non-applications, and talkie talkie TALK should prove useful. It has to. Staying here promises nothing but demise. I'm telling you this. Honestly. Fearfully. Hold me accountable, damn it.

Voltage in My Skin

Some days....ohhhhh, how vibrant the colors can be. They demand protective eye wear and ear-to-ear, endorphin-fueled smirks. Others, though muted, still command a pleasant kind of enjoyment. Today ripened into a gem though I did little more than give into typical devices....threw in a round on the bicicleta [more fun to utter, like saying the "h" in Texas. Much affections sent to that cherished locale. Amber and Nicole, I miss you!]

DANCE break! .....MIA sure can jive. Yeah, those cats can.
...

I am exploring relations using backstrokes with no real want or need for those shiny and sought after ships. The captain and the crew be ME. Monitoring the bow and stern. Tending to the rigging. No, I am NOT a descendant of John Wayne. Despite any pronounced drawbacks, what I intend to convey is mere contentment. I lay under the stars without concern for partners or troubling jealousies. Still, the dippers choke me up a smidgen. A piece of me that will forever exist in that balloon sent into the skies. I can see your very smile, your damn two-timing smile. RIP and don't forget to crack my dick, DD.

ShoutOUTS. And why? Because, dear friends, exposed worlds and souls forever shall I treasure. Come sway with me cause you move me beautifully. Deletion. Cold shoulder. Closed out. Forgiveness is a strength, but such treatments sting me stronger (than YESterday). Each and every day. Polarized emotions shape and challenge my character. It's not the drama that captivates me, it's the capacity to feel it. All of it. The darkness in the light. The laughing born of tears. Twisted sister, mister.

Once I read not to prioritize those who don't do so for you. What does my lack of adherence speak to? Destructive. Degrading. Unappreciated mind games. The curse of these hearts on my sleeves. Give and take. Take and.....not give? Some, sure. As if there was a limitation or quota to drive such gambles. And what of MY value? Justifications do no favors and denying generated sorrows fails 100% of the time, every time. I AM an emotional creature that LOVEs being a girl (hats off to you, Miss Ensler). To me, you are precious. I'm gonna need a helmet, huh?

Off, off.....off I go. Yeah, I'll teach you to swim...cause I've got that electric feel {FACT: that video never gets old}. Eels eels eek.

Come on, GET happpppppppy!!!!

My hair is shameful. Like 3 days strong shameful. Such associated non-pleasantries were far less common [sense] prior to the mandating of cotton balls and drops. You know what else was pleasant? Motivation....a sense of urgency.....a steadfast and determined goal. The shit part? The moaning and lack of owning action accomplishes about as much as my savings account. This path, which once appeared beaten and negotiable is now obscured with the equivalence of anti-life brush. Maybe even ivy. Certainly the inconsistent daily occurrences are cause for ensnarement OR the whenever sleeping non-habits OR shoddy digital connections. Excuses, reasons....indeed, cut from the same wordy clothe. "You've got to cut yourself some fucking slack," he told me. Truer words were likely never uttered and yet applications pose many more challenges. Stuck. The cage? Oh, my own design. Always and YES, always. I know. It is me. Has to be me. Got to be me. The change. The ch-ch-CHanges. I speak much. Too much? In beds or otherwise, yes? Sources tell me that those who discuss rather than do are even less likely to perform the later. Or do or do AND not done. I must come off as a well oiled wheel. Round and round do I ramble. Breathe, my love....breathe. For now, I will accept the status quo but left unattended will affect the composition of this dying-to-blossom soul. Shake me, WAKE me. Start it up.
Dammmmn, I am in dire need of a sounding board. No, you are all lovely but I care about your ears far too much. Professional, unbiased and perspective rendering ears. LEND me ___ ____. They demand out-of-reach monetary resources. Some of these days will unfold into developmental bliss...counseling others is as worthwhile as these words I lay before you. Do you understand them? Disregard any illusive messages, for I am no more specialized or outgoing than you. Isn't it grand to be marvelous....at half past 5?

IS it a crime? Is it a crime? That I still want you....and I want you to want me too? La musica es muy muy bonita. Never as good as the first time. What a world. A wonderful one. I could assume the typical aims, regulations, and desires but the interest in tangible action prevents further assertions. Hoping to be at peace...within and out. Frustrated giggles did certainly result from the notion that I am more accomplished with securing dates than job interviews. Truly. OK....I am to change that at least. Any day. The rest? Whatever and ever and whether or not it should be.

Cross. Cross. Scratch out. Change. Rearrange. Many shots of gratitude to my multiplicities of believers, supporters, and loves [YES, you]! You are my expressive lifeline. For the duration....xoxoooo.

Lipstick and Knowing Something

You know what it's like when you're new to the game, but I'm not. Really, I never was much for those strains of games. To me, this life is oh-so-much-more tangible and real and unpredictable than a common game (you know, those with set rules and expectations). Two or three in and this sense of oneness and clarity rings truer than Lady Liberty and in such a way that could alter the very fabric of our reality. Imagine something or something or even somethAng. Peace, love, and happiness sprinkled [frinkles AND farkles...i.e. 4-year old Alex's linguistic attempts] with necessary and appreciating experiences of sadness and the many other feared and revered emotions/sensations/developmental feelings. Surrounded am I by couples...like real, in-love couples. Inspired and glad, so very glad am I. For once or so. Even if it goes awry, you have been loved and challenged and changed for more or less of what ye need be. Perfect nightmares and beautiful disasters. That you were. Know what? I'll adore you and those fluctuations forever. I've been a prisoner all my life but right now I marvel in this alternate universe transportation. Apart from the basic fundamentals....be love more than you need? Cause it makes sense. Magical senses of here and now. Yes, I am! This magic may wear thinISH and curdle bitter but this reflective chance could reinstate a rightness ((???)) of perception. OH yes, it will. Love yourselves as I do [and pass it on]. TAG, you're it. My it. Always.

Semi-guiltNOTish indulgence. Just unwind and prepare to feel somethAng.
xxooo

Body to Door

Most desired philosophies classify emotions as only love and fear. No more or less. Simple to comprehend, frustrating to conceive of implications. Of love...possibly one of my most utilized word bombs. Reasoning not known, except that I feel it, like it, aim for it always...overuse it, sure. It's a loaded term that explains much and little all at once.

And of fears? It rules daily action and in-action in ways not fully understood or awknowledged. Dragging, pulling and then halting. Down down down down downnnnn. A new direction be much desired and claimed as legitimate. False. I am a false propagator of progress. This isn't me as an emo-incarnate, this is me as truthfully realistic and reaching out a hand and resume in need. Apparently I be jaded to the extent of ceasing production and initiation. Heading, AHOY. But reeeeeeeally, is it my cover letter, presentation, resume, or lame follow-up that prohibits employers from seeing me as desirable? Suggestions and offerings encouraged.

Here. There. EVERYwhere.

A million faces. There COULD be a million faces and I would likely embrace and long for and miss and crave and smile at the very thought of most of them. An open book. I draw hearts on you....all of you, as if a representation of the pieces you posses. It was a gift, no need for a receipt. For some misguided reason I am under the impression that this type of affection and appreciation could cha-aa-a-nge the world. The sunlight in your universe. Like that. Perhaps having dispensed a bit and felt a bit, indeed, I am a pseudo authority of affectionate effects and outcomes. Open and closed, scared and carefree, new and old, ready and running.....2.....4....6 hours late. I want to embrace or even reject each of you and wrap you in a metaphorical blanket [snuggie?] of comforting challenge.


You? I want to invoke a connection and realization that you have so much to give and receive, in that jungle that is your life. Yes, for the record, I AM a silly, silly know-it-all. And next to....a mistake, likely. The brilliantISH kind you can't help but be thankful you made....but never like this or that. These morals of mine, they are....moral. Friends and fraternization...gah, I am the fool on the hill forever more. Those linguistical notifications couldn't be clearer, boo. Off I back. For best it not be....as opposed to the inevitable (I'm told) interaction with yet another. Bring it on, the Navy commands it. Oh, and of you....my OK maniacal Cutie, you are fantastically frightening. It shall likely end before it begins because 2 pages can't be read at once [yours and mind, you see?]. Teach away. And, B? I miss you and what never was, yeah? Foolish to fantasize friendships into existence. EXPECTations of obscure and compromising interactions...but damn was it nice while it lasted. Hot. Very. PB&J offerings appreciated, darling. I will likely leap and learn what it feels to have known divorce [times two.....oh shit]. DO it. Ahhhhhh, this is it. What, eh? Life...or something like it. You will never be more beautiful than you are right now.

Down the....Line

The exit couldn't present itself quite quickly enough. Imagining the exposure without my fuckable buffer is chilling. Discomfort....soooo much of it. As if I understood a language I wish not to [incorrect usage understood]. Your anger is exhausting and I can't help but pity your accusatory and seemingly misguided ramblings. I am surrounded by imperfection, yes...as are you, with even more denial and screaming fits of childish rage. Meditate and discuss away that pain. This pain. That pain. As is this. And YOU, sir? My own personal jesus. No doubt you'd instruct me to shut up.....respectfully, as always. But it's the telling reality....all I speak when not cornered with balls of 8. Were those 2nd-hand inhibitless mutterings....truth? You want(ed) me so bad? Mostly unfazed. Ah, you are you (thankfully). I am me and nothing more (just enough, yeah?)...capable of much, afraid of unintended consequences that present as right and wrong and RIGHT.

....afraid of never being able to smell the contents of that 4 or so year blue bottle or listen to sonnets of how I'm just like heaven without feeling something like sadness and longing. Curses. Confused by couples....their very existence, function or possibility. So despise being equated to a broken toy that once meant so much to the one and only. Then again, other days the clarity is alarming and all the while, enlightening. The circle of life sans grass or que sera sera sans the loss of translation. Baby, we will be friends...someday that's true. One day, I will know sovereignty.

The Nature of THIS Beast

When trapped in the rain, maps proved futile. The windows were fogged beyond functionality. My pulse...booming. Breathing through the frantic blur, I pulled over and shifted into park. How can I do this? ME. Initially I called for assistance but concluded I COULD and would AND should do this. Just me. Cause at the end of this day and the next, that is my status quo....my salvation, my best friend. Despite that reality, these friends and this family of mine are something else that I couldn't do without. Such dependencies are frightening, but I acknowledge them wholeheartedly knowing they are the very connections that compel me to challenge this [temporarily?] stagnant existence. "I'm gonna apply to grad school for you....is that ok?" Definitely. HAaaa.....appreciate you, all of YOU. Shame I'm not reimbursed for every "You need to be in Chicago" or "You need to get the fuck out of that town," cause I'd have accumulated more than a few shekels. Aye.....I know, I know....trust me, this I know. Trapped am I in a confidence-lacking bubble of my own making. Oh and the time is coming, for certain. This fire will not be contained much longer. Fuel accepted.

Pushy readers appreciated, mostly. Encouragement and demands necessary. It is for me that I write and for you that I share these views and poetics and fears. Consciousness-raising shrinks the otherwise consuming world into a manageable beast. One-by-one I catalog these experiences and educational encounters. This is the path desired and needed, but unfortunately....also one that I've deviated from far too many times. The only way to learn.....doing, doing, done AND done. Brilliant? Sure. I have been, can be, will continue to aim for. And you? Something to discover. Or even something to detest. To question. To embrace. The gas be strong and the trek be long, as always. The difference? I will travel at a steadfast pace without expectation or hatreds of me, myself OR I. And why? Because windy cities or not, I will be as I am. Changing and questioning and aiming for the best of whatever I can be. There are no maps for this route so don't try to make one out of nothing. I hope to see you at the unforeseen destination, smiling and with open arms, crash pads and books. Be you as you are. Because I'll see your true colors and you'll see whatever you need to see of me. See it all. Off I roam....to a place where love is something like breathing.

LameaSAURus Rex

What IS the proper and most effective response to realizing you are an improper and insensitive arse who utters shitty and hurtfulISH bits to undeserving peeps? These words....they sprint in any direction and morph into a plethora of thoughtless jargon. Aware now more than ever am I of these very shortcomings. Sure...be me....but NOT me as a verbal degenerate without heart. And believe me....I have so much of it AND soul. The whole bit. Recognition is but a fraction of the process....undergoing critical action for the duration. Attempting to avoid sole regret of previously incurred damage, not to mention.....sabotaged possibilities. Be you dark enough to see my light? Perfect imperfection....I'm something like that, I think. Am I terrible...like really terrible? Hoping nay, imaging the worst of what is probable. My brain leanings are assuming and very, very me...for all intensive misfortunes. Learning to fly but not before crashing a time or three.

And you....do you view me in the same dreamboat light in which I marvel you? In any sense or reaction...I'm still Mamie's granddaughter, the spittin' image of my father, and when the day is done my mama will remember she is my biggest fan. Oh...please, avoid throwing in that alleged towel...it's only just begun or ended or transitioned to something uncategorizable. Done, done....gone baby, done. Imaginationland....this place and face unavoidable because these sensations and musings ARE far from contrived. Real as real as real is real. Isn't it?? For now I'll play as if previously mentioned neurotic thoughts are non-existent. Sexy? Hardly. AND they definitely aren't limited to said relations and personal misgivings...but spans to moving potentials, marketability opportunities, networking, and other stomach-churning ch-ch-CHanges. Like new dresses to my mum, I think I can, I think I can...chu chuuuuuu!! Do you think about me now and then, do you think about me now and then? Cause I'm comin' home again [pride until I die or bake pie or get hi-hi-higghhhhh?]. Chicago holds the key to your heart and also mine. Chances are I'm a bit delusional and found wanting....wanting....the city AND all that. Bowwwwwwwwmmmmmm. ???!!!

P.S. I put the HIP in hippie.

Today...I feel the world and myself in it. Under this tree I am one and with this ant crawling the length of me, the grass prickled at my back, that "doughnut" consumed. All this beauty. "Wow.....it's SO beautiful" constructions pop repeatedly in my mind. The simplicity and peaceful sense renders tears of a gladness and understanding not nearly familiar enough. Because in THIS very moment I am me and free and ready to be whatever I need to be. Can be. Shall me be me.

To these precious renderings I am glad and of what is to come, excited...hopefully...tentatively prepared and unaware.

Brew HA HAs and Bronchial Bludgers

Shock, shock meeeee. You shock, shocked me. Thank you. Thrill of said shake-up is new. Definitely. Totally. The kind of newness and goodness that requires questioning of previously held notions of what you thought you knew nothing about. The time for linguistical challenges is now. Wheels keep on spinning within me, this life, such encounters. Each introduces me to the yes, no, and maybes of this ever-expanding list of guidelines. Pro-woman. Truly. You must be JUST that if relations desired. All women deserve to be taken out and wear pretty dresses, yeah? Rock on, JC...and also pants, if desired and/or preferred....in that same way I dream of the space for men in tights and the like. Is the associated violence due to predicted sexual orientation or gender non-performativity? You tell me, bashers. Anyone who properly identifies the term cisgender also qualifies. Argh....be still this damaged, but eager aorta. If anyone was ever a sucker for a kind feminist word, it was me. On repeat. Every time. Shock me. Wait...you already did that times a zillion or so.

Check on some rad jams.

"What's your name?"Over and over and over again. It's not Jennifer or June or Mellany OR...fish. My patience is severely lacking and she is frantic and confused as ever. Crying and pouting....like the aged of four. Off I go...to forget a bit, develop a bit, learn a bit, and cope a bit. As needed. Yes, I bloom later and later every year. I am precious, like a flower. And you? A bee.

Electrical Frijoles

Inspiration presents itself as many a thing. The highs. The lows. Why not the contented mediocrity of now? Write, write, delight. If I want I can paint a memory or thought into readable existence....how well is yet to be deciphered. For instance here: this regular has a routine. A well-established routine of mushrooms [non-specialized effects], raspberrry dressings, and phrases laced with "sweetheart." Comfort, yet fear encases this practice of routine, habit....tradition? An inability to conjure new concepts? Most others embrace traditions so effortlessly that it renders my questioning a near abnormality. "It is your responsibility to rebel, to change," sir tells me, with love. And in this way, I have and I shall. Simply I remember my favorite things and don't feel so bad...yeah, Madre? Up, up, and away I come to you. Please forgive the absence knowing I've missed you terribly and think of you fondly and frequently. I shoulda called, shoulda written, shoulda been many a thing. Alas, I am as I am. Inept and incapable of the unreachable perfection. All the same. Branching and reaching out is the ultimate means for coming to terms with lack of said perfect existence and how much it be desired within another. Wouldn't identify as shallow, but at times feel low as tainted gallows. Rising. Learing. Phenoix and flame.

SIDE silly. Me: "Base jumping...on the clock? Is that ok?" Boss: "Oh sure, cause it's highly likely you wouldn't survive which means no work comp payout." BRIlliant. New work places rock.

Nice to (not) meet you, Red Pants. Take care and prosper.

Off to another place entirely. A locale of indifference and comfort and newness. Yus. YES. Love yourselves. Always.

Captured

Breathe in. Breathe out. Riddled with less time, even less sleep, more ideas about birthdays and expectations and insecurities. Torn up. Breathing through these alleged damages. Accepting the limitations (???), contemplating challenges and desires. Second thoughts reveal a lacking to accept status quos and wading in these stagnant waters. Red fin enhances my brilliance never. SLEEP may be thee answer. The very answer I seek....again and again and fail to acknowledge but will one day grace my semi-pigmented canvas.

Here I am. Alright. With that Chinese and chopsticks to sift through the remains. I know allotted bits of your reality....imagination conjures other possibilities. What of you and your damage? Ohhhh...forget the unforgettable. Always and on.

To Tuesday and so NOT Slow

PEACEfulNESS. A calming sort of sensation. IT was told that I bring IT....the calm. "I feel peaceful around you." Simple. Concise. Impactful. Thank you. Am i, I, I...peace? Project it, correct, reject it? In this instant.....a bit. Shook up. Unsure. As needed.

People ARE strange. Then again...not any more than I. Me. I've been labeled as odd and quirky by a few, awkward and strange per a Mi. Chemicals influence perceptions and feelings unto plausible action. And I am a bit bullshit and also incredibly empathetic.

Here HERE. An interaction. Exchange. That's ALL it takes to break up any pending yucky status-quo. Incredible. The stuff of hopes and dreams and flames. Emotional intelligence is sickeningly under appreciated. My mind....a bit disrupted, truth be told. The possibility for connection that changes, maims, makes, and breaks is endless, thrilling...necessary. We are social and we are one and we are together exploring this infinite abyss. You managed to inspire these words, this undertaking, that awakening. WOW. Gracias, M. You are an overly undiscovered brilliance of a person and I am enriched having had this....whatever it is, was, could of been. Oh and if I could touch you I would. ??? Because, sir....touch is touch is touch is touch. Shield intact. Torture worth every minute.

Reflecting on previous few entries is to confront privilege, class, race, et al. Urgh. Most wouldn't care or would find me silly for such concerns, but I am me and you are you. Great goodness. White women abound. Like me. Like them. Shake me, wake me, when it's over. Dios mio. Oy. Si. And YOU and your pants? Uncertain, but the change is fantastial. The honestly...appreciated. ConfiDANCE through life. YESssssss (linguistical brain poison). xoxoox

AmurICA

Realization. Revelation? Truth? Delusion? CRUSH. Just another. Over and over AND over again. Definitely. This excitement and unknowing bliss is as real now as it was the past zillion instances. OH....and he has real nice glasses. Time for me. Time for you. The REAL delusion is time. Surely it is not WHAT you do but HOW you do it. Potentially...but alas my character is frayed and frazzled and in-transit. Critical of the transformation, unsure of the destination. I hope for flowers and stability and rivets AND maybe even a working bath plug (i.e. the most sound 2 dollar investment in months. MONTHS.)

Letters! I owe oh-so-many of you letters. Quality correspondence laced with lyrical laments of love and longing. Vicariously shall I experience far away places through you and you and YOU. Thank you much. And now I must go to the west coast. No choice. Here I come, pen pal (H)! Eh...give it a stint of necessary savings and smarts.

Urgh...my bedroom walls are SO white. White like my skin....not paint chips. And really the wall is blue. Call it white guilt, I figure it as a lack of variation. Boredom. Uncomfortable comfort. Multi cultures in an unappreciative locale. Challenge, change....blame? How did the alleged racial hierarchy come to fruition? Strange....from this vantage point...black IS beautiful. The pigment is most enviable and it breaks my heart to consider bleach a beauty routine. Why OH why? You ARE beautiful or didn't you know? Very strange, indeed. I speak my truth. Thee very truth.

The derby? Mostly inspirational. Desire skating without tail bruises or wall hugging. AMazing.

And YOU, sir...your phobias and anxieties are nothing close to my business. BUT....get out...challenge and break the cage. Why? Cause exploration and bonds are the stuff of a spicy-like life. REAL bonds. The kind that alter the composition of the soul and shatter expectations of what it means to be alive. HA...mirrors likely necessary when writing of such things. And K, enjoy the carefully crafted linguistic missteps and explosions. For you. For me. For oblivion. Now and ever.

Adult Things. Fierce Fires.

Oooo....I want chu. Ya know, I want(ed) you so BAD. The resistance and confusing scenarios and glances keep the wanting ever present. Here I am. There you’ll be. Ever AND ever. Oh….of these Indie moments and scars and memories. Maintain the coffee pot as I maintain these unrealistically challenging traits that aren’t at all. The times are a changin’….and you and me with it. Let go, Alex. Let go. Recall the necessary happy and lucky instances via daguerreotypes and non-corrupted cerebral cells [Buddha willing].

And YOU. Guess what? Tentatively, I will miss you terribly. Moving out and away….away AND out. You are ALL moving, shifting, altering the fabrics of this reality that for a stint seemed somehow unchangeable. Progress. All must and should progress, change, derange. THIS right NOW…cannot exist without you. Ok. It’s gonna be ok. Because I am a cultivator of dreams, a viewer of kitchen football…a lover of me in this time and place. FIRE. And they deployed this fire. Inside, outside…somewhere else? The desired sweat. Like a creep I imagine the possibilities. Naive. Yes, I remain so very naive, so incredibly hopeful, and entirely unsure of future aspirations and for that….I am alive. Well…in love with this life and the next.

My plant.....is dead. Sadness emerges. FAIL. Ok. Ok. OK. ;D

Miles

Nag champa. Nag champa. You burn so good. The scent…relaxing. The attitude….clear and concise. The focus….much improved, at least theoretically. In conjunction with this dress, those tunes, and that refreshing salad I find myself desiring all the possibilities I knew the future could hold. DOES hold. Always and always, on and on. Steady. On and on. Chooooo choooo. AW yeah…..laid back. Money and minds wandering, but present. HA, it’s not what you think. I KNOW you are thinking you know of my present condition, but alas….the experience of new experiences is far too reaching to limit myself in such potentially constricting ways. And of MY reality? Amazing. Growing, growing…gone. The non-tangible resume skills continue to bud and flourish as if a mind of their own. Be my friend. Others are. And me? I am LAID back. Truly. As observed, stated, catalogued. Exploring the roots of needed confidence boosters proves useful, trying, and just what the soul doctors prescribed.

Oh, the travelin’ [sans], the singin’ [semi-sans…..karaoke challenge. CHECK], don’t mean nothing…..without you? AH, but tis the risk [???] I must take, darlin’. Entirely. Definitely. Unavoidable. Necessary. For you, for me, for this leaf of turning. Not to forget….I am to discover my relation to alone and all that alone could and should be. Commencing those many months ago when I thought I knew what I couldn’t have know. And NOW? I want you. All of you. Each of you. To teach me, to praise me, to love me, to challenge all that I know or could hope to gather……and to be here with me now. Demand little. Take much. Grow and build the force. Ch-ch-ch-Changes. <3

Not much is new. And that…..that is ok with me. Coffee beans away.

PICTURE: amazing new discovery, Lee Price.

I was a Dancer ALL Along

Stuck? Perhaps I AM stuck in this cycle of my own design. BUT I stand not alone…oh no, there is a coauthor…many, in fact. Difficult to trace the origins of this frantic sensation of neuroticism and confusion. Try and try and try again. Played out. “You don’t want me the way I want you. Can I get me some satisfaction? It’s all I’m asking of you.” THE seemingly simplistic list of grievances makes resolution of sorts appear more in grasp than realistically plausible. Bro-bro-BROken…. Is it wrong to hope for acceptance? A type of acceptance or whatever it may be. Is THAT not realistic? Turns out I needed a dose of my own medicine to fully realize the potential damage incurred. And for THAT I feel no remorse, no regret, no shame. I am angry and upset for my past criticisms. AJM, forgive me. Forever shall I love thee. No matter the outcome, I have grown and continue to do so. Vinny Vinny Vici….? Still, the current interaction isn’t quite on. Rather it invokes experiences of sadness and also detachment….kinda a cool-ish new experience of sadness, actually. I also feel a bit incompetent and uneasy and less than amazing. AND for what? This is the new leaf meant for growth and exploration and realization and greatness. Exactly. My truth? I AM some type of wonderful, criticisms aside. My faults are present. I am, after all, imperfect and delicately precious…like a flower. OH, and strong. I’ve been told I’m so very strong. Strong enough to be REAL about my capacities, limitations, and strengths. BUT I exist alone…with or without you and your cents of two. I refuse to acknowledge anyone as the ultimate authority….actually they aren’t my fancy in the least bit. And you are also lovely, potentially not my jar of tea. Not in this place and certainly not in this time. And that, sugar…is the block you detect…the shield at work. The resistance to pending routine and boxed limitations. Treat it as an attack I do. Embracing this certainty…now. I must. I will. This time is mine to have and to hold. And the BEST part? My friends. Hands down. AMazing. Incredible. Thank you all. ALL.

The Direction is in Our Connection

Alone. I must go it alone. The crystal was never quite so clear. And still, I remain relatively calm, collected…corrected? Alone. The ever-revered existence of solitude. Ever-feared, more accurately. Brilliant. And for once….I mean it, crave it, feel it. NEED it. Indeed. Not to imply guest appearances are entirely outlawed…just not planned or fully necessary. Peace and comfort do I discover….a little bit. And PROUD. Young and proud. Loud and proud. The brain spoke AND was heard load and clear. What a welcome departure. What a necessary transformation. Oh, I will transform you. This life. This love. The very existence that is me. ME. The only life I can hope for. Now. Time to dance. Dance Dance DANCE.....ahhhhh, yes. xoox (Many thanks to all of you who continue to support me in what I do and hope to do. You are my life, my love....my everything. Without you the days would melt into years. My friends, you never cease to amaze me. And to my family: you save me, more than you know. Thank you. Honestly. Completely. Thank you. To many more years of greatness and wonderment).

Miami 19

My tangible vices are expanding rapidly. French fries, tights….touch, experience, knowledge, tea…this fella. I find myself to be strangely optimistic and alarmingly calm. Explaining how this came to fruition would likely prove difficult and also useless. The contents of the bookstore can’t even fully explain this experience. Sitting in the parking lot I observe movie goers trickle out and away. There remains a couple perched upon a blue sporty ride. Their interaction….new, their connection….obvious. Where agitation and frustration may have once manifested, I find comfort and appreciation of sorts. Incredibly strange how the tides toss and turn. It’s not even that it all makes that much more sense….just a long-lost unfamiliar pleasantry, really. While rollin’ in the deepest of dark places certainly yields benefits, I revel in the joys of the current counter-balance. The distance….a bit numbing. The benefits….not entirely conceivable. Like like liking this. Lots. Likewise pumped (Ninja boner style) for new job-like developments. Barristaville, here I come. Commence travels….going….going…to where you are and to where I desire to be.

More of Beds and Coffee Beans

The iconography will be simple, direct AND charming. The impact? Unknown. And also unimportant in the end. My friend….my friend. Simplicity…truly a beautiful and necessary alteration of perspective. These simplistic desires of yesterday have become intermingled with new found joys of today. NOW. More than the concerns of women and the like….NOW is me, now is you, now is….the inspirational key. Progress. I AM progress. Slow and steady, like a river to Pocahontas. I can see it, no matter the criticisms I construct and dish out like ravioli. Take the long road and walk it. Let’s walk together, shall we? And then there was you. A challenge, a revelation, a change, a type of salvation…a new honestly pure happenstance. Glorious. All of this AND that. Happy….so very happy…and happening [now]. Feeling very French-esk in my culinary appreciation and subsequent consumption. The endorphin release introduces an unparalleled freedom….a high to chase? Not always to the extreme reaches, though I aim to locate a middle place that calls for less chocolat [JD interjection…imagine, imagine….you are welcome]. Later. Definitely. This combination of dark coco and almonds is melting my brain and fortifying my soul with all matter of goodness. Sleep, sleep….ahhh, sleep. xoxo Inspiration found: "In the end, the steps that matter are the ones you take yourself."

Celery MonstA??? Probably never.

The preferred mode of existence requires far less analysis and oh-so-much more care-free indulgence. Is the way shut? Difficult to gather. AND what of this alleged potential? Thank you for the kind words and longing glances. Thank you and this place…though not this time. The fear is nearly all due to ill-matched timing. AND oh…the potential. Almost sickening….transformative….Peter Pan-ish. Out loud. I want to exist out loud. Well…no. Definitely here. Now….but not….corrupted. The taste buds and understandings have been radically corrupted in a direction that presents as confusion [“I got a feeling that I’m doing what’s right”]. Yes, the time WILL speak of much and likely nothing at all unless my analysis skills improve greatly. My brain. My brain. The bells. The bellsssssss. SUGAR. The death of an addiction….going nowhere fast. Without the necessary funds, I discover myself starring at the vending machine wishing a miracle. Fudge. HAaaaaa….or cookies. A worthy challenge, no doubt. Along with prior topics is one of the most brilliantly troubling ventures. How these damn bells do ring. Come back….come back. Oh, ok [kudos to the cutest kid and cuddling buddy in existence]. XOX XX (FOR YOU….you know)

Bloggety blog BLOG

A bed. A seemingly simplistic assembling of linens...becomes something of severe complexity and joy. That, my darlings, is MY desired source of escapism. Netted in this golden solitude the past few days present themselves as that much more….bittersweet? Unreal? Incredible. Oh yes. Perhaps I should safeguard such sentiments but this IS it. The world and myself in it. My reality. Luckily, you are playing a part. A brilliant part. Much gratitude shall continue to be directed to you and the….cosmos? So many sweet treasures. The kind I can’t even hope to fully capture on film or with words. THAT inexplicable. DANG? Most definitely. Professional-ish advancement is likely within reach. Some attempted progress but not enough. Why? Because I am am AM a self-encouraging asshole. The only way to be? I know not. Oh, make it something solid and stable and exciting AND applicable. I never claimed to be anything other than picky and dramatics. Standards guide an otherwise unguided pursuit. On and on and on and on…..and….ON. New INKS……a bed. AH haaaaaa....

Part-time Lover. Full-time Friend. Me.

Walking around with hands wide open, I know myself to be suseptable to the elements. Embracing this life is all I can live for or hope to achieve. Experiences….I welcome them. I welcome you. Acknowledgment of fear is the first part of this process. I do so willingly, but with a mere dash of reluctance because coming face-to-face with your vulnerability provokes a confusing frustration. AHOY. It is wonderful, I’m telling you. Try it. Try me. Take a chance. I am. Regret? In a way, but in the same way…never ever EVER. I refuse to accept a repeat from the cliffs of Greece. Challenges I embrace, changes I demand, risks do I take. From the stage of yesterday I welcome today and that which I can never predict. The truth is, I meant what I said. You all know who you are if you allow it to be so....I will cherish you the remainder of my existence. Truly. Madly. Deeply. Uh huh.

Find your inspiration.

OH, and soooo many kisses.

Around and around and around and AROUNDDDDDD

Expression. Ah....to express a feeling, a thought, a landmark...fears....excitement....abstract assertions. For the moment writing seems almost contrived. The flow appears disrupted BUT is necessary. Entirely. So many, many, many, maaannnnyyyyyy what ifs and revelations and then….nothing. The simplicity and ease expose themselves as scary…alarmingly frightening, YET something I can’t quite express….I think something like exciting and inspiring (!!!). Even the attempted descriptions fall short of comprehendible comprehension, to me OR to any of you [apologies]. The hair is a strain of softness, appetite raging on and ON [3 am ISH], motivation budding. And that fear. Those damn fears. They always present themselves in the most surprising circumstances. Sting rays? Sure. You…and this? Certainly. You AND sting rays? Oh hell. It took some time for me to see. Late blooming, niave gestures….delayed understandings perhaps. And now? Ain’t nothin’ gonna break ma stride. Minus me mo MY. As always, the toughest critic known to Em. But oh, how the ch Ch CHanges do….well, change this status quo. My life, my heart, this moment and that. Brilliant, really. This security acts as a reassuring type of new comfort. Game ON….but then again, fuck games. The reality is oh so much better….and….real. You’ve got the light and me....I’ve got the key.

Love and thoughts to Japan.

I sip my Koolaid

ALL I never knew or dreamed or comprehended possible….that’s what this is. Standards have been altered, changes embraced….connections forged. Oh….AMazing, like I can’t explain….AND I’ve been told I have a poetic and magical “way” with words. That way is currently null and likely void. Entirely enough peace, brimming with back-burner insanity. I wish this upon everyone…AND everyone else, too. Understood and appreciated. Indeed. Perhaps rocks don’t hold their intended power, BUT this freedom does….as does every experience gathered and cherished. Labeling seems far too constricting for such EPIC proportions. Yet, the fear is ever present in daily operations and interactions. Za-Za-Zazen!!!

Short/Sweet....Profound....

Thorough appreciation of this understanding, these observations…this very journey. Clarity and calmness are alarming….how can this be? Refreshing. Entirely. Enjoying the chemistry of train passengers…perhaps a reflection of future initiations. No touching needed, the attraction is undeniable. Soooo cute…..HAHA, what am I in THIS moment? Something exciting. Something much less cynical. A mere connection, a chance encounter…SO enthralled. Heart of mine, oh heart of mine. The mending is now, the memories present still. THIS is the light of knowing I have all I will ever need, with potential for wondrous, revelatory glory. Fuck….everything is an inspiration. Living. Living. LOVING.

In the Wild, Wild West

Explanation escapes to the deepest thresholds conceivable…though it is neither desired nor necessary. Believe it. Perhaps it was inspired by tea and productivity OR the consistent correspondence and post-shower clarity. THIS is is IS my desired locale. Now and always. Turquoise from within. Breathing. This thought. This breathe. This inspiration. Here I lie, intact and thriving. Sweet darlin’….nothingness and yet, anticipation and excitement in the unknown capacities. Save me? I JUST did. Again and again. Strumming my pain….where is it? The memories. AH, of yesterday, today, and likely tomorrow. Just starting out in an epic and encouraging journey of discovery. You aren’t all of it, but you are it. I hate to love the concentration. Oh, goofy great loveliness. That’s your gift to me. Few expectations….so many hopes and thoughts…..contentment in the experience of it, ALL of it. Here I am. There you are. Mystic. Sade presents perspective many can only hope for. Going…going….to a place where love is like breathing. Be that easy. It is, I promise you. To whatever may come…cherish the day.

Timothy Dalton has Green EyesSSSSS

Ok, let me just start with this because when I searched "Timothy Dalton" I had no idea what I was in for:

"At a consistently lean 6' 2", green-eyed Timothy Dalton may very well be one of the last of the dying breed of swashbuckling, classically trained Shakespearean actors who have forged simultaneous successful careers in theater, television and film."

HOLLLYYYY damn...if I am ever anybody I hope I can be described something exactly like that.

Lalalallalallaaaaaaaaaaa. Let the show begin.

When I look at people I envy I realize….they don’t force it, it just IS. Thus, that must be my aim. They are happy and beautiful and my role models. Thank you for being you, even when everyone else told you otherwise. These developments don’t occur overnight. They can take years…even a lifetime. I am realizing what feels like a type of truth. Selling myself short I am by forcing that which doesn’t mesh. Why? Because regardless of how others might view me, I am worthwhile and amazing and noteworthy. I say this not to come off as self-obsessed but because once you say something enough you actually start to believe it. Though I am aware of my origins, I am, as of late, not keen on focusing on them entirely. Everyone has a past, I feel mostly concerned with the here and now. Perhaps that is why at times I come off as a bit impatient….because in all honesty, I could die this instant and I hate regret like nobody’s business. Writing cryptically certainly serves a function, but so does feeling understood. I recognize patience is a worthy virtue, but since silence isn’t a skill I have yet mastered I feel utterly compelled to voice my thoughts on one venture or another. That is why it messes me up to remain silent when emotions run high and why I am having trouble NOT saying how I feel. This entry isn’t typical. Oh no, it is more like a page from my personal inventory of thoughts. The thing is, I don’t have to consciously construct what I want to say….it just IS. This is what it is. Me as me.

P.S. I think I realized you might be too cool and hilarious for me. Then again, history shows I can roll with the best-ish of them. Game ON.
P.P.S. Time for Zombieland and tons of pixies. I am feening something fierce.

I am the Rebel that YEEELLLLLSSS

War. A topic to browse and hash out like corned beef at an egg party. While playing witness to a numbered war of royalties, the great internal war of yesteryear rages through infinite worm holes. 3, 2, 3…..2. Damn. So close. Challenge, change, blame. Hate to love this I do. Zen teaches of expectations null and void. Void these temptations in this place and that. Shoot the emotionally crippled messenger. Desires could be the end of this comfort and enjoyment. Fearful. Incredibly fearful of that which could freak you and break me. If belief in a deity was plausible, asking for guidance might seem appealing. Do I see conclusion in all this confusion? Nunca. It’s not sad, it’s life.

Vacating these premises leaves many questions and yet a few more answers. I’ve been thinking. Over thinking. Cease and desist, woman. Ah, but ask me not to morph into that which I am not. I am a thinker, a dreamer, a believer….a blessing in disguise. Priorities reveal themselves as necessary. Patience. Patience! Patience? What of it? Now, now needed. Pa-Pa-Power do I seek. P.S. Apologies for the incessant tickles. I am coping with my reality. What of you and yours?

Nails and production and folding of linens must commence shortly. Less time in dresses with tunes of oblivion and more elimination of tasks. Procrastination is a terrible, persistent infection. Curses. The value appears overly false and diluted. I Am worth the time and investment of time, damnit. I need you to love me always. ALWAYS. Not only when convenience presents itself. You know me. That’s what makes this all incredibly difficult and baring. Write it off I can’t. Perhaps the potential is left to the dust of those many ages past. The perceived attraction is clogging understandings of what is acceptable, right or just. Maybe you are a toxin I never saw coming. Reflect, discuss…change? I am not a babysitter. I demand and blatantly request nothing more than what I convey to you. Tea shall provide relief. Ah…yes.

A mindful existence? Learning, hoping….dreaming. I am mindful of the soap not cutting the grease and the readings not being that of reality. Oh, how the pigs do fly. We CAN do it and I will do whatever will be. I have all I need. Lovely, amazing peace-ish revelation. ISH. And then nothing at all. Ah, yes….TEEEAAA. In a Flash….AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
xoxo

Sugar, Spice, and all that was NICE

The destination unknown, the motivation…unclear. For now, the lost is in the leaving. Shards of shame…confusion….rejected before given a chance. Judge not harshly, for I would not subject you to such treatment. Ah, a blog….yes. It is a means for coping. The answer to tentative prayers, a deciphering of drama and drinks and dreams. I think you get it…just too fearful or unsure of the potential. Is this the confusion I seek? I am crushing on you like a smasher of aluminum. This must be a test….a mirage…something new and unimaginable.

A ghost am I. Fucking it up. I am fucking all this up. The security is false and bullshit. You all might think you know what I am or could be BUT how could you? I am to be left like apple cores and greasy plates. Call it dramatics, call it stupid. I am, Am, AM all of the above. Positive sentiments are sparse and my comprehension of you is a LIE….like pants on fire. YES, you. Perhaps the timing is rigid. Perhaps Coldplay has been written off once and again. I call it angst (too too much), you claim energy.

X. I am the X. EX. Ruin is a gift? I believe it….yes. Ruin is me in this place and time. Initial assumptions were correct….for who could love me like this….or even date me? Certainly not you. Ashame. I see you as brilliant. A brilliant mess of wonder. I am loving me. I am loving this. I’m nearly over the pity now. Titles are overrated and played out like tennis. Call it hangouts. I crave a connection, a comfort, a carefree and mindful existence. Channel Buddha and a bag of chips.

In the END, that's what I found out

Traces of color still grace the crevices of this pale pigmentation. I scheme. I dream. If my sky should fall, would you ever even call? Potentially…but then again no. Invisible accountability and unclear trust. What of ME, myself, and I? That’s all I got (thanks, B). NOW is the time for exploration of new territory….initiated. Desires for independent transcendence easily run astray, especially when presented with such tempting alternatives. Over analysis ensues, all the while keeping a grounded and fresh perspective. I am, IN FACT, no more strung out or crazed than you and anyone else in my position. Repent and judge. Tough critics emerge in the shape-shifting form that is eM. It requires more talent than you’d think necessary causing continual faulting. Who wouldn’t? I tried to quit you, but I’m too weak….?? Never. I am glory and love and momentum and not taking any bull or other animal’s shit. Coping never tasted so fruity and written word never inspired me so. Of here and there, near and far, she and him.

“What character does she remind you of?” she asked. “She marches to the beat of her own drum,” the other replied. AH, sure….but a beat few can comprehend or hope to vest interest. A solo of broken rythum, challenging lyrics, but an all-around feel good sound. I can only hope it inspires more and repels less. Ideas don’t bounce back very well from walls. Functioning seemed so much simplier when ignorant of the possibilities. Retract….retract. Peace shall I seek. I hope to see you there as a friend, confidant, or something entirely unforeseen. Dreamin’ again, like I’ve always been. I’ll be seeing you today, tomorrow, and/or never. STOP making sense and embrace pending confusion for what it is: exhilaratingly wonderful.

**I just read this to my Mom…I never share with anyone. I said “it probably doesn’t make sense.” She responded “sure it does.” “What do you think it means?” I asked. “It’s just nice to hear you read it” she said. I love you, Mom. Ignorance just might be bliss.

Give me credit?

The death of an entirely non-present situation unfolds into oblivion, just like the others but with slightly more disappointment. I need not look. I want not look. BUT, alas….I have looked. INCREDIBLE. You are incredible. Perhaps the time is now. Sleep and desist. Perhaps I misread the details and created what wasn’t on the script. Slight sadness. AND now because of such thoughts the psyche will certainly demolish the prospects. FUUUkukkk. I realize the last time I wasn’t looking, but now so much more promise exists….I want to rage and reconsider the value. “The best part? You already have everything you need.” Righty O. Promise me something. Remember how awesome you are, A. Your logic is inspiring. Nothing changes WHO I am. Honestly. Truly. Middle place. There is talk of me and this place. Undoubtedly positive, unchangeably uncertain. Forever red, rarely nets of fish……wishing, wishing…of impossible things. BRIGHT. Challenge the requirements. YES. Evolving shall I roam.