Remember. . .

Uncertainty.

Does this stuff bore you, when I rant and rave in uncertain syllables, over-dramatizing and almost spiritualizing everything for effect? What is more important to you – what I did today? How behind I am in my homework? The details of my life plan?

Or would you rather hear of my fears, my dreams, the things that matter to me – though they may be painted translucent and written in verse? The things that inspire me are things that deserve a twist of beauty, to be painted in romance – not laid out in literal terms to be dissected and institutionalized.

I would like to continue to share the gory, misinterpreted and tragically incomplete details of my love life, which is where all inspiration evidently dwells, as opposed to discussing the staleness of the bagel I had this morning. Though I must admit, it was a confirming moment for me when I realized my lunch consisted of a stale bagel, a bag of cheez-its and instant coffee. I immediately threw myself a mental “welcome to school life” party.

So. On we go. On and up and inside and within.

Angel.

We had a date, and she sat across from me, and she instantly looked like you, she looked like you in the face except this one was young, a mere nineteen, and her eyes were dull not bright like yours, and there was no hint of violet but then she smiled and her cheeks rose up to meet her eyelids and I remembered the nervousness in your voice before my lips first tasted yours, and I’ll never forget the way it felt, the way you looked surrounded by your halo, darkness like a cloak around your face, the striking piercing way you looked through me and the way you sighed pressed against the cool cool stones of the bathroom wall. Yes, she looked like you and I said she looks like my girl and he apologized for making me remember and I thanked him for not letting me forget.

Just five minutes. Five minutes. Five minutes. You know it will be our ruin.

Life in General

Being primarily a porn writer these days is starting to bleed into my other life.  For example – while at my day job, I’m typing a letter for my boss as he dictates from behind me.  Keep in mind, when I type I tend to go into a “zone,” where my mind is elsewhere and my fingers just react to his words.  The problem is, the words are starting to register differently.

Take the following sentence for instance:

We regret to inform you that the cumstain wasn’t home when the delivery was made, therefore they couldn’t sign for the package.

yeah.  Customer becomes  Cumstain.  Great.  It also happens with lover and lower.  And there’s  a bunch more I can’t remember right now.  All it means is that I freeze temporarily and have to kind of restart my motor.  It’d be pretty funny though if BM (Boss man or bowel movement – they are one in the same) knew what my brain was trying to move past.

What else?  Oh yes, smoking again.  Trust me, I get enough flack from my daughter about it, I don’t need it from you guys.  I am fully aware that I’m going to hell for it, and I’m a bad bad person.  I’ll quit again, soon.

Did ya’ll know I was single?  I think we covered that.  It’s interesting now, being back in the game.  It’s a freedom I’d forgotten how much I loved.  I’m finding plenty of adorableness to keep me occupied, so I’ve yet to really deal with the loss of my last relationship.  I’m also not feeling any need to mourn it at all, probably because the decision was mine and I got over it during the fall out??  I don’t know, do you always have to mourn something?  Perhaps it just dies, and you move on?  I guess it depends on who is doing the moving on.  Yes, definitely.

Out of respect to him I finally changed my Myspace back to “single,” as much as I didn’t want to, and I already regret it, just because of all the creeps who search for single girls.  In fact, I think I’m going to go change it back right now.

I would have put “Swinger,” but what the hell does that really mean?  Do you have to be in an open relationship to be a swinger?  If not, what’s the different between swinger and single?  It’s all stupid if you ask me.  I guess swinger means you are single or in a relationship, either one, but you are open to or are already sleeping with or seeing more than one person at a time.  Hell, maybe I *should* change it to swinger, that aint half bad.

Damn, I’m feeling the need to write something beautiful and tragic, and there’s just nothing in there.  I need to lie down in pure white and let my intentions paint the world around me in vibrant, violent colors.  Perhaps after a mocha.

like water.

I’m sorry, I’ve been absent.

Like a shotgun blast, my life has suddenly spread in more directions than I can trace with my finger.  The fabric of my life has changed, not for the better, not for the worse.  I am suddenly thrust into new worlds at every left turn.  School, like a day spent in Long Beach, sprung out of a dark recess of my insecurities, reminding me that I’m not as young as I’d hoped, and I’m certainly not as smart.  Though the change, like this morning’s heavy rain, was welcomed.

Other things, wonderful things exist in secret places, hidden from the world and the insecure actresses who occupy it.  I’m finding that true freedom is never having to explain yourself.  But there is a difference between doing it wrong and doing it differently.  There are words in my vocabulary now that weren’t there before, and while they seem trite and contrived, they get tossed around like loose change.

Suddenly, I understand some of the looks in people’s eyes differently, and I find myself admiring my own situation, which I believe is probably a place I’ve been trying to find all along.   Along the way, I’ve learned that my trust is an earned privilege, not a natural reaction to kindness.  Still, the lies to protect myself are already building, though I’m disappointed that people can’t get past their own drama, and feel the need to let it bleed into my world.  And no, it’s not like last time.

I’m having those dreams again, where snakes and elephants blend as one, and I forget whose arms I’m in at times.  Except this time it’s different, because both are one and one is two.  Like a tripod, I’ve been told, where if one leg gets knocked out the whole structure topples.  But human nature is funny, and bonds grow stronger with each passing day regardless of the mountains that move around us.

Would one set of eyes seem so dark if the other’s blue didn’t shine so bright?  Is it perhaps the depth of one that balances the apathy of the other?  If we were to exist in our bubble, in our third floor paradise, I know the world wouldn’t cease to exist, but perhaps it would stop caring so much.  It’s the divas.  The beautiful and tragic divas that squint their barbie doll eyes and set their scopes to annihilate, if such a thing were to exist, and they take all, they take everything and they claim to be sane normal girls but they’re really vampires and the moon is full every night and their victims just keep piling up.  Those are the ones to worry about.

You claim your eyes change color with this one, but you’re wrong.  Things are never that romantic.

Tonight.

There are ghosts tonight, shuffling around me like I’m in their way. Is it possible we’re all just co-existing on different planes, oblivious to one another, perceived through mere glimpses from time to time? Are we perchance the dead ones, locked in our worlds of half truths and unfulfilled dreams? Maybe the noxious fumes that escape from cold dead hands is the dust of angels wings rising to the firmament.

Who knows, in this bitter retreat, who will be the one to suffer. Certainly the innocent. Perhaps I’m simply being reborn, flailing wildly with no regard to reality, waiting for the voice of god to stop me in my tracks. I know how this one works – there is little room for mistakes.

I am a thousand times jealous of people with real talent.

The lights are dancing behind me now. It’s fascinating watching them learn of their existence on my living room floor, twirling in their gowns, realizing that they can live through me, refreshed and truly alive for the first time.

For that alone, it may have been worth it.