To move or not to move....

How long do we have to sit here before we use the toilet? I mean really...how long do you make yourself wait before you dash off? Do you sit and quietly squirm because someone is speaking and it's rude to get up and walk out while they're presenting? Or maybe it's because you're in class and you just know that if you get up right now and find desperate relief, your instructor will go over every thing you need to know on the next exam and you'll end up failing it? Or maybe, it's because you're sitting alone in the campus cafeteria, quietly surfing the net and killing time while you wait on classes to start but you don't want to get up because if you do:

• you'd have to leave your books, laptop, food, purse, and everything else you brought with you, on the table and pray to every available diety that no one steals anything while you're gone...because remember, you're sitting alone, or....
• you'd have to pack up all of your items and drag them 75 feet to the bathroom, set them down, relive yourself, pick everything back up, and then come back to the table and unpack everything again because you still have an hour and a half till classes start and you really just don't feel like randomly walking around campus right now....even though you could walk back up to your apartment and drop everything off since no one showed up this morning to let you into your work study job, which is why you're sitting alone in the cafeteria in the first place

So in the meantime, we sit...and let our bladders get full, and keep drinking and filling them more and more until eventually they will explode inside us and we will die from the ultimate urinary infection.....

Ladies, I say to you.....Get up and go PEE!!!!!

That is all.

The rest

This is the back piece....

and now I have to fall ungracefully into my bed whilst one of my dearest friends lays on my couch. I hope with every part of my being that she finds her peace....

That's how I roll yo'

Today was a very good day for me. I spent the entire day engrossed in educational endeavors until this evening when I added more cholesterol to my arteries and then had the absolute honor of putting Boof's artistic genius on my body. I also got my gang signs yo.

These are the gang signs... The back piece I can't photograph right now, but Torr has a pic of that and I will get it from her. Pain is lovely....and so is Boof's art.

God bless the families of the fallen.
9/11/01

Tired...

yet another 24 hours with no sleep....and I'm tired....tired of the bullshit...

my insecurities are my own. don't ask me to share them with you. they are my secret and you won't get close enough to find them. i might throw you a bone or two, but the real ones...well those are tightly kept hidden away, wrapped up in long forgotten memories that still make me shed tears of happiness, covered by miles of pain that i have endured - all in the name of love (or was it lust? you tell me), and sealed with layer upon layer of the sadness that no matter how hard i try to run away from keeps scooping me up in it's arms to squeeze what little joy i may have found out of my ears.

dont tell me to be real. i am. pinch me and i'll give you a bloody nose. cut me to see me bleed and i'll run over your dog and then drip my blood over it, singing merrily off key as the two become one. hurt me and i'll stab you in the heart, laughing cruelly as i twist it and shove it deeper by telling you i hate you, everything i told you was a lie, you make me want to vomit when you touch me, that the thought of smelling your sweat covered sex makes me want to claw my skin off. can you handle the truth?

my padded room is covered in barbed wire. the restraining jacket i wear is on backwards - who taught you all this? i bleed from my eyes and ears when your voice grates painfully through the thick air to greet me. i hear colors, taste music, feel words but you are a void. you suck the life from me. give me your pain, i can take it. i can make you feel better. i dont want to but i will. that's what i do. i make you feel good about yourself. i lie to make you happy. every lie drains me more and more. but i do it for you. and now im done.

you will not touch me with your creepy fingers. skin that is dead. lips that drip falseness. heart that is stone covered with plastic love. dont play the game with me. you wont win. i'm better at this then you are. i'm the master of disguise. i change with every mood, shadow, song, touch, kiss, pain, scab, food. i show you what you want to see. you're so shallow you'll never see past it either.

and You...yes you...no, not him up there....you. you think you know me? you're right. you know my pain. my fears. my insecurities. my truth. my love. you hold me back with your logic and intellect. feed me crumbs of compassion and hope only to rip it away as soon as i press them to my mouth. you laugh at the pain you cause me. you make me need you. you tear me down to my shell, pull my insides out, put them on display. you stare blankly at me when i come crawling to you with my heart on a platter for you to devour. you destroy my illussions of myself, life, love, hope, dreams. you bare my soul. i feel raw. naked. you enjoy it. so do i.

you make me show you things about me no one knows. you see what i refuse to show you. i dont scare you. i try to leave you. to run away screaming. you're no good for me. you're a drug. the pain you cause me. the agony i go through every night. you're my disease. you're not impressed with my walls. you crush them with one word. you laugh at my futile attempts to hide.

i need you. need to touch you. need your approval. need your lips on my skin. i can't leave you. i've tried. i keep running back. i need you to rip apart my fantasies. to shove reality down my throat. i need you to want me. to look at me without disgust. i need to crawl over miles of broken glass on my knees to get to you. to hear you laugh at me. to hear you say you can't live without me. to miss me. to break me down violently so i can rebuild myself. i need to hate you.

I'm saying goodbye...

..to myself. my insecurities. my life. my pain. my heartaches. the gallons of saran wrap i've covered up in all these years. the walls and barbed wire around my heart. the chains holding my soul down. the disease i've become that flows through my veins. drips poison from my lips. causes my eyes to see the evil i've created around me. causes my ears to hear the hate that isn't there.

my demon is inside of me. rolling around in my intestines. smoking crack in my head. playing strip poker with my heart (stripping it bare time and time again - the deck is stacked against it). lighting a carbon filled fire in my lungs. growing stronger over the years. festering like an infected boil, oozing puke green puss down my body, emitting a stench so foul flowers die around me for miles.

living in the past. living for the future. never worrying about right now. this moment. focusing on the negative. letting go of the positive. clinging onto people and things i know are bad for me. not feeling like i deserve any better. feeling small. insignificant. a helpless viewer to my own life. uncomfortable in my own skin. wanting to scream.

"THIS ISN'T ME! Somebody please understand...."

banging my head hopelessly against a brick wall. not seeing when someone looks at me. remembering things the way i want to. not the way they really are. lying to myself. childlike hope that no one will see past the lie. knowing they do. making my world smaller and smaller. pushing people out before they even try to get in.

it's time to exorcise that demon. to say goodbye. to refuse to be that girl anymore. time to love myself again. not like i used to. i don't want to be her. to steal her life. i want to be me. boils and all. to let go of the "what if's" and the "if onlys". worry more about this second in my life. not care if i get hurt again. knowing it's worth it to experience love (if even for the briefest of moments). to return that stranger's smile with my own.

time to let go of the control i had. i lived it. breathed it. needed it to survive. to know there are some things i can't control. to be ok with it finally. to breathe easier. reinvent who i am.

gently take her in my arms and welcome her home. it's ok to cry. to be hurt. to be lonely. to laugh. to love. to be me. take her hand and guide her into the light. i don't need to hide anymore. to forgive - without question. to be scared. to live my own life. for me. to stumble. to fall. to make mistakes. to say i'm sorry. to let go of the anger. to ask for help.

to make the journey. to get past the pain. one foot in front of the other. surrounded by friends. family. strangers. light. love. happiness. reality (but who's? - and do i wear my glasses for it?).

i will be me. with all that entails. i will speak my mind. i will not let my heart be a doormat. i will love without restriction. i will cry without worry. i will laugh at myself (will you laugh with me?). i will love myself as much as my children love me. as much as i deserve. and know i deserve it.

i will make more time for my kids. friends. myself. i will be the goddess i was ment to be. we were all ment to be. will you join me?

7 wonders of the world

to touch,
to see,
to hear,
to taste,
to live,
to laugh,
to love.

it's all about perceptions...

Meowser

It's early right now...well, comparatively speaking...it's actually getting close to bed time. I hope I dream about unknown gremlins.

I thought I had a gremlin because I wanted there to be one. In fact, it was my son who was the gremlin but I went all day thinking I had a poltergeist because I didn't ask if he did it until later this evening.

Which begs the question....why do we try so hard to keep our reality in tact? My reality this morning was simple. I took my clothes off, dropped them on the bathroom floor and then got in the shower. When I got out, my shirt was gone. I knew 2 things at that moment and they created my reality. 1) My son was asleep - and it's just the two of us here. 2) I had had previous feelings of being watched in my apartment - nothing creepy, just an acknowledgment of what I felt was another presence.

I went through the day with my slice of reality, telling all who would listen this wonderful story with excitement and wonderment. When asked if my son moved it I replied negatively because I knew he was asleep (without having asked him this). I also pointed out fervently point number 2 above. These two small little things only served to excite my listeners and bring on tales of personal hauntings or poltergeists they'd seen/felt. The first point probably would have been enough to engage my listeners, but I've always had a flair for the dramatic.....and the ability to talk endlessly about the same thing.

Later today I find out, by simply asking my son if he moved my shirt, that yes he had moved it and it was in fact not anything supernatural - unless you want to wonder why he just took my shirt and not the rest of my clothes.....

I have a need...driving me to distraction at times....to turn the ordinary into something more. I'm never satisfied with just being enough, ordinary, normal, the same. Even unique isn't unique enough for me. I have to be the top dawg....the queen kitten....the maverick.....but I lack the creativity. So my reality stays as it is. Supremely normal with a lot of love, laughter, quirks, and drama of my own making.

You can't always get what you want.

Yeah, I'm sure you've heard that before but it's true. Like right now, I'd love to stay up and be rid of the headache I'm starting to get from staying up too late so that I could keep immersing myself in the goodness that is called House. Alas, I have responsibilities and must at least pretend to function in normal society...so I have to say goodnight to my sexy, sarcastic hero and recharge my cells - I think someone forgot to tell the ones under my eyes tho...they look more and more like death warmed over, no matter how much sleep I get.

Reality is such a relative term. And yet no matter who's reality I'm in.....6am comes way too early.....