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.