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.