You're Dead To Me

Can you remember
How you use to jab your fingers into my chest
And tell me how stupid you thought I was
And how I'd grow up to be worthless-
I was only 9 and I can recall every single time-
You raised your hand to me
No matter how hard I try to forget
I can't erase it from my memory
To this day you seem to think that
You never did anything wrong
And even though I've tried
to look past your ignorance
The hate was too strong
And you were to blind to see
how much anger was growing inside of me
And everything revolved around you
Do what you say
Do what you want
Do as you do
As the years passed
I never knew what was to come
Cause you were never there
But the day will come
When we'll cross paths again
This time I'll be sure to let you know that
All I ever wanted was was for you to believe in me
And everyday I prayed for, lived the day for
Was a chance to throw it back in your face-
And before you die, open your eyes
And see, all the different ways that you neglected me
You may have gave me life but you never gave me hope
I don't ever want to take after my own Father
God help me raise up outta this mess
Stress and grey days and a gang full of tests
God help me, god help me
You put the fear in me and said
if I wasn't to be everything you expected
then a son I'm not in your eye's
and would be instantly rejected-
Your gifts of love were just fifths of pain
While I tried to maintain and refrain
You just laughed at me,
you looked down on me,
you threw down on me,
You made me feel worthless
now you're dead to me,
how does it feel to be,
What runs through you created me,
one day I'll break free-
All I ever wanted was for you to believe in me
And everyday I prayed for, lived the day for
Was a chance to throw it back in your face
Why do I have to feel like I'm constantly worthless
Every day I'm reminded of you, Father

Wonderful

I close my eyes when I get too sad
I think thoughts that I know are bad
Close my eyes and I count to ten
Hope it's over when I open them

I want the things that I had before
Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door
I wish I could count to ten
Make everything be wonderful again

Hope my mom and I hope my dad
Will figure out why they get so mad
Hear them scream, I hear them fight
They say bad words that make me wanna cry

Close my eyes when I go to bed
And I dream of angels who make me smile
I feel better when I hear them say
Everything will be wonderful someday

Promises mean everything when you're little
And the world's so big
I just don't understand how
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
Tell me everything is wonderful now

Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now

I go to school and I run and play
I tell the kids that it's all okay
I laugh aloud so my friends won't know
When the bell rings I just don't wanna go home

Go to my room and I close my eyes
I make believe that I have a new life
I don't believe you when you say
Everything will be wonderful someday

Promises mean everything when you're little
And the world is so big
I just don't understand how
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
When you tell me everything is wonderful now

No
No, I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now
No
No, I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now

I don't wanna hear you say
That I will understand someday
No, no, no, no
I don't wanna hear you say
You both have grown in a different way
No, no, no, no
I don't wanna meet your friends
And I don't wanna start over again
I just want my life to be the same
Just like it used to be
Some days I hate everything
I hate everything
Everyone and everything

Masquerade

I wear my own masks.
I didn't cry until
you were out of the room.
It hurt enough without
having you see my tears.

Fuck you very much.

Addendum:
If I didn't love you so much,
it wouldn't get to me the way it does.

Losing My Voice

Just the words,
being thrown at me out of left field,
conjured up thoughts
trying to scream,
trying to say anything,
and failing.

You’re losing your voice.
she said to me,
and as I heard the words,
I could feel my face turning bright red.
I could feel the world narrowing around me,
and the tears building behind my eyes.

I’ve never claimed to be the best writer,
I’ve never even thought I’m all that good.
I just write what I can, when I feel it.

I’ve been going through alot lately, I know.
I’m doing everything I can just to stay above water,
and I know that my writing has suffered for it.
Life has been frustrating lately.
Life has been hard,
and what I can say on here
usually is the leftovers of all the stuff
that I can actually process,
after its been muddled
and stomped on
and left for waste.

And it’s really hard to write about that kind of stuff.
It’s really hard to write at all,
even though I’d scarcely call what I do writing.
More like …slamming your head on a keyboard and calling it ‘art’.
And I don’t even like that kind of art.
I can barely even write the date down right half of the time,
much less create a meaningful, “heart-wrenching” post.

This is going to be blunt…
Anytime anyone says that to me,
I know that I should just hold on tight until it’s all over.
I don’t do blunt. Because I’m so sensitive.
My dad used to tell me about when I was little,
I couldn’t have been older than a year and a half.
I was in the kitchen messing with pots and pans,
like I shouldn’t have been.
He yelled my name,
and not only did I put everything down immediately,
I started crying as if I’d actually been punished.
That’s just how I am.

I don’t even disagree with her, that much.
I guess I am just shocked.
I’m not angry, because she is right.
So this is not about her,
this isn’t about how her words
may or may not have hurt.
This is about me. She is right.

I am losing my voice. It’s hard not to.
Sometimes life tousles you around a little too much,
and we all reach our breaking point eventually.
Little sleep, bad days, frustrating life.
Would anybody else fare as well
against those adversaries?
Would their writing?

So, Yes. I’ve noticed.
Yes, I am aware.
But Yes, I am trying.
Though I might be nearing my breaking point,
though I might seem like I’m down for the count.
I am not. I have the spirit and heart of a runner,
I never give up.

Though my voice might be exhausted,
and diminished; It is not lost.
Not permanently, at least.
Just temporarily.

Cycles…like the Phoenix.
Your wings are spent now…
but your heart never changes.
From the ashes… you will rise…
Even bigger and better…

I always do, so don’t give up on me.

R.I.P.

"... and the punishment for murder is...
well, it varies from state to state and by race..."
- Homer Simpson

Don't worry, there has been no death of which I shall speak. Excepting, of course, the death of the joy of smoking a quality cigarette for smokers in most of the country. This map shows the states where R.I.P. (Reduced Ignition Propensity) cigarettes are currently required by state legislation, what states have passed such legislation, states where such legislation has been filed (and will most likely be passed), and states that have not filed for legislation. I know that was a long sentence, but bear with me.

Only two states have not yet filed for the legislation, but they will. Anyway, the deal with these cigarettes is that they are less-likely to remain lighted (yes, lighted, not lit) if left unattended, or say, if you fall asleep. They have two or three (depending on manufacturer) extra bands of less-porous paper to extinguish the flame, making them a bit safer, hopefully reducing the risk of home fires and whatnot. They've been dubbed "fire-safe cigarettes" by many, but the term is misleading. Don't go falling asleep with a lighted (er, lit... no yeah, lighted) R.I.P. cigarette with a clear conscience. Try to avoid that.

They've also been dubbed "shitty cigarettes" by even more. See, they suck. They burn differently- you get more runs in the paper, they often go out while you are actively smoking, and many can clearly distinguish the taste between an R.I.P. (or shitty) cigarette and a regular cigarette. Experts say their is no change in taste or performance, but experts are wrong. I've seen people identify R.I.P. cigarettes from regular cigarettes with 100% accuracy, within two or three puffs.

Here's my point. These cigarettes suck dick, and not in the good way. However, they kinda do suck in a good way, in that they may discourage people from smoking! How great would that be? How great would it be if these R.I.P. cigarettes, that burn shittier, don't stay lit (shit, lighted), and taste worse, started making people not want to smoke? How great would it be if when people heard the terms "RIP" and "cigarettes," they thought of how cigarettes suck, instead of how many people die because of them?

What's next? Are they going to add a sobering agent to the alcohol I drink so that by the time the party's over, I'm able to drive home. They are also raising the tax on cigarettes, maybe that's where they are getting the money for our stimulus package.

to the ends of the earth i'd follow, i'd cross every sea for you

I don't like to look at life beyond my hands
but it's often necessary to remain in check.
I think about what it might feel like to lose you.
Who would I spill my cares to?
Who would light me up after a bad day I've had?
The more I think, the harder it becomes to breathe.
And then I can't see clearly through mist soaked eyes.
I've learned that life can be beautiful in every moment,
regardless of circumstance, if you just look past emotion
and appreciate what it took to get there.
But I never want to know the feeling
of not having you to end my day.
The fear of facing it drives me to be
more present in the moments here with you now.

dear god....

make me a bird so I can fly far, far away

if all you told was turned to gold, if all you dreamed was new...

You didn't ask but here is what I see. I think life gets rough because it knows we aren't yet tough enough, so we have to work harder for what we want. We need patience, so it throws us into chaotic situations we can't wait to escape because sometimes we just have to learn to live with what we aren't comfortable with. Times can't always be good because then we'll lose our appreciation and gratitude for them. Trials happen to teach us that we can't control the outcome, but we are in control of how we prepare for it. We can't grow to be strong without first becoming weak. It's not always sunshine and dandelions but just the same, the storms won't last forever.

almost lover

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

re-luc-tant

1.Unwilling; disinclined
2.Exhibiting or marked by unwillingness
3.Offering resistance; opposing.

I have a long list of things
that I need to either
1) complete or
2) implement.
The list started out small
but it is growing as we speak.
And it's not to say
that I do not know
how to do them.
I'm just putting them down on paper,
then folding them in half,
and again in half,
until it can fit snugly
in a corner of my desk.

"I don't understand why you're so reluctant.
You're like a fighter-pilot
who has got the target locked in.
Push the red button!"

It can be exasperating I know.
Even I get exasperated with myself
just thinking about it.
And subconsciously,
it is giving me a lot of grief
(translate to read: STRESS).
My sleeping pattern is again all out of whack,
migrains are flaring up,
and half the time I am walking around
with my head / mind / consciousness
being somewhere else.

It's really not a lot of things to complete
- half of them fall under category (2).
But this firecracker just doesn't seem
to wanna be lit for some strange reason.
And that is what I need to determine,
in order to be like a cow and moo-on.

"If I were the guy in Mission Control
- I would be yelling my head off at you
to fucking push the red button ALREADY.
But I'm not, so I am just going sit here
and wait for you to come
to your senses on your own.
But please - you're already locked on.
Just press it?"

I'll think about it
- that much I can promise you.

The BS of life

The best moment to fool yourself
is the moment you think
you’ve got your life all figured out.

It’s the moment you look back
and reflect at what you’ve got
going on for you at the moment
and relish in every one
of your good fortunes

You might think,
hey, I am what I am;
nobody can tell me
what to do with my life,
nobody can tell me
how to think or feel.

I know myself.

Or so you believe.

Until experience shoves
an elephant up your ass.
It doesn’t hit you that all
the bullshit you have been
feeding yourself about what
you personally think you believe
about your life and everything else in general,
is also being sucked and chewed
and digested by this strange,
new monstrosity you think you reign.
All you care about is that
you’re giving all that shit away.
The shit you believe
you earned the rights to give,
because it is your shit.

Just because you think the elephant
is sitting beneath your ass,
with you on the head,
as if you’re king. Or queen.

And when you see how the elephant
stops swallowing your BS
and chews and spits it out in return,
you feel the splatter in your face.

You then start blaming the elephant
for not knowing what is good for itself.
Just because it doesn’t
want to buy your shit, anymore.
It doesn’t seem to matter to you
how the elephant is still there,
right beneath your ass.
The elephant stays,
but all you care about
is how it wouldn’t eat your shit anymore.

Perhaps, the only time you realize
how your shit is not even that good to swallow,
that it took years and years
of shoving down the elephant’s throat
for it to get used to eating your shit,
that now it gobbles up your shit voluntarily,
is when you feel the elephant’s head moving, for once.

It finally decides to move on.
It is ready to let you take your fall,
so that you will learn how to get up; on your own.

You and the pile of shit you made.

This may be the only time you realize
how after years of churning out this BS,
you’ve never actually tasted
and chewed and swallowed it for yourself before.

And when you finally do try
to bite your own bullet,
you will be amazed with the amount
of BS the elephant tolerated
from you all this while.

I <3 U

Love.

It's not all rainbows and fairy tales.

Sometimes... It hurts.
And it's scary. And it's tough.

It's one of the toughest things around.

Love...

Love is feeling someone bristle at your concern.

Love
is holding someone while they fight you,
because they need to
be held even if they don't want it.
And you just need to hold
them.

It's spilling your guts,
knowing without question
that what you're saying will hurt.

It's knowing that,
though there is pain,
no one is leaving.

It's staying, even while you cry.

Sometimes
love means you fight.
Not because you hate each other,

or want to do harm,
but because you are open to
every part of each other.

Even the parts that fit like two left shoes.

Or maybe you're just madat the world that day.

Sometimes
you go to bed angry.
Sometimes you stay up all
night,
because as soon as you manage to
make up, and
make amends,
something else goes wrong.

Just remember that it's love
.Remember that it hurts,
and it's worth every second.

Remember that happiness
isn't smiling all the time.

Love is...
Taking care of yourself. First.

Because if you expect someone else
to do it for you, you're not going to get it.

Because its fun to be suprised
when you don't have to do it.

Because you aren't much good to anyone
when you're falling apart at the seams.

Because
you want to be the best,
brightest star shining in their eye.

(Or at least one of the few brightest.)

Trusting
each other. Reaching out first.
Taking that agonizing step
out of
the safety of your own mind,
and into a
world of together.

Learning to speak each other's language,
instead of expressing your heart your own way.

Understanding when they are expressing their heart,
even when it's not the way you want to hear it.

I wish I could better explain
what it is that I'm feeling at this moment.

I've Fallen

" Like the autumn leaves of November, I've fallen.
Biting winds sweep away all that makes me,
leaving behind an empty skeletal frame of what was once mighty.
Now just a bare tree with all that made it beautiful gone.
I watch the leaves blow away the pieces of me.

I'm lost,
Like a child who's lost his mother.
Scared, confused, upset and nervous.
Seeking the warm hand of the familiar
reaching though It cannot be grasped.
wanting nothing more than to be in a loving embrace again.

I'm broken,
Like a scratched record.
My mind repeats only what is damaged.
Playing over and over again its flaws.
The once breathtaking music to be replaced by a new record.
No hope of repair, the damage has been done, tossed in the trash.

I'm alone,
Like the last remaining person on earth.
All that he loved gone.
Wandering aimlessly in search of something that doesn't exist.
Only his will keeps him going.
Solitude leads to his madness.
No matter how hard he searches, he will never find what he's looking for.

I'm empty,
Like a man who has sold his soul.
Buying into what he feels is important
Losing what made him a man in the first place.
In doing so paying the ultimate price.
A hollow shell that can be crushed with ease.

I'm worthless. I'm hopeless, I'm thoughtless, I'm heartless
I'm mindless, I'm brainless, I'm heinous,
I'm hurt, I'm afraid, I'm sad, I'm maimed
I'm tired, I'm pained, I'm embarrassed, I'm ashamed.
And through all of this, one thing remains the same.
I will always love you.. for the rest of my days."

I miss you

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
Without the words,
and never stops at all."
- Emily Dickinson

Sometimes these moments pass by quietly,
with little fanfare or production.
I'll tap my lip or stroke my beard absently,
not sure what thought sparingly eludes my grasp;
a small mark on my retina,
evading my direct gaze,
or a twenty dollar bill
along the breeze
of an urban boulevard.
Almost as if my thought
was interrupted by an unexpected occurrence,
I search for what, exactly,
I could be thinking about... no luck.
I am in a dark room, and I cannot find the switch.

Sometimes, though...
sometimes the moments
refuse any but the most
concentrated introspection.
Each moment is dragged by,
kicking and screaming,
demanding it be heard.
My heart travels throughout my body,
visiting each part with
the specific goal of discomfort.
Even my fingers twitch with restlessness,
and there is no relief.
No recourse available,
the moments refuse to advance.
There is no negotiation.
No way to procrastinate;
no way to bargain away what I will feel.
I will feel it now,
and I will feel it for as long as it takes.

I miss you.

~ I think of each adventure we'd embark upon.
How every time we would hit the town,
a new story would be born,
keeping friends and acquaintances spellbound
for as long as we chose to recount.
Though I'm sure our spectacular run of safety
in these outlandish experiences was due to end
- and believe me, there could have been some disaster
- it seemed that it never would.
Our young friendship endured an epic struggle
(I considered punching you in the face that night,
but when you asked if I would use
an open hand so as not to break your jaw or kill you,
my resolve withered)
and we became even closer.
Then you just up and went away...
you disappeared without a trace,
though I thought I'd hear from you again.
I'm still surprised that I haven't, almost three years later.
In these silent moments,
surrounded by absence,
I miss you, buddy. Yuppers.

~ I have made peace with the fact
that I will never make peace with this, or you.
Though I've not quite convinced myself
that I am completely faultless,
I know that we are where we are
because of your actions, not mine.
I loved you. I hated you.
I, along with everyone else,
was scared to death of you.
Not in a good way.
Not in an endearing or positive way,
or in a way that commands respect,
but in a way that makes people
able to walk away from you... forever.
Looking back only to wonder
just how this is possible,
or how that was possible.
There are moments that pass
like teeth grinding,
where each of my decisions
are justified and second-guessed
as one becomes another.
I miss you, Dad,
and it's not even my fault.

~ I'm not sure how this can be so,
but I am simply captivated
by everything I don't know about you.
Would we have fun in a department store,
or a library, or a gallery?
How would your body fit to mine,
in the early hours of the morning,
before sunlight beckons?
Without ever having woken beside you,
I can look beside me even now
and picture your face, either smiling or preparing to.
I think about how difficult it would be
to leave you for the day, each of us with
our own careers and obligations,
and then I think about how
I'll never know that longing.
I miss you, and I'll never even know how much.

But I do miss you.

Words of the day

Limbo

Not hanging to the left, nor to the right.
Suspended in some kind of time and space warp.
Not sure what to do.
Not sure if to do anything at all.
Comes from assuming too many things,
and clarifying nothing at all.

Inadequate

Unqualified, ill-equipped to be able to accomplish
certain tasks, goals, objectives.
Unfamiliar territory, unmarked grounds.
Wanting to give up, yet not willing to admit defeat.
Challenged and trying to figure out how to get past it.

Frustration

Coming up to a brick wall
that seem to run for miles,
with no end in sight.
Wanting, needing,
craving to move forward,
yet stuck not by owner's choice.

Maybe it's cos I'm feeling
under the weather
and fighting really hard
to stay on top of things,
on top of life.
Trying very hard not to say out loud
"I'm tired of all this."
Trying very hard not to allow
one stupid mistake to follow another.

Anyhow, these are my words for today...
What are your words for today?

Dear Loyal Readers... If I still have any.

I know. I know! I had just come back from yet another impromptu and unexplained absence, only to once again post secrets, from post secret and retreat once again into my self-induced seclusion and creative void. I have not created. I have not explored. I have done little else but live the life I have while constantly yearning for a better one.

I'll post more soon I promise.

More Secrets

Secrets From Post Secret

"I need you to need me"

I love you, and you know that.
I sacrifice for you,
and I am appreciated for it.
You make sacrifices,
and it makes me love you that much more.
You’re just so amazing, in so many ways.

But the truth is,
the stuff I won’t tell you,
is that I need you.
Desperately.

I’m sure you can see it
written all over my face,
or can tell from how I act.
I need you as deeply and completely
as I need oxygen.
I miss you when we’re not together,
hunger for your presence.

And I hate it that you don’t need me in the same way.
I hate being in this position.
I hate not being the one in control,
of my heart, my head, my feelings.
I hate not being the one with all of the cards.
I hate that you hold those cards
that I’m so accustomed to keeping in my possession.
I hate that I’m the one out on the limb,
and you’re sitting comfy, with nothing on the line.
And I hate that you’ve opened me up so much,
to get me to this point,
and haven’t opened yourself up enough
to be there with me.

And I’m scared. I
think that’s why I’m so paranoid,
all the time.
Every time I think of how much I’ve given you,
because I trust you with my heart,
with my whole self,
and I’m not comfortable being that vulnerable,
and I get really scared.
I’m absolutely terrified at letting you know
just how vulnerable I am.
How scared I am.
How badly I need you.

Part of me,
the part that’s been hurt
by "best friends"
one too many times before,
is telling me, screaming at me,
to run away as fast as I can.
To run, and not think about looking back.
Go! Go. To where it’s safe.
Where there’s no risk.
Just GO.

And, to be completely honest,
I want to listen to that part.
That voice has grown quieter,
but it’s still not completely silent.
I’m still scared.
My survival instinct
is still telling me to
run for the fucking hills
as fast as fucking possible.

And I know that you don’t need me
the way that I need you?

I am strong, I am head-strong,
and very independent.
I don’t need a best friend,
no more than I need
anything else that’s superfluous.
Sure, I want another car,
more clothes, a best friend
but I don’t need one.

Or at least that’s the way I was.
After my last friendship disaster....
And then you came along...

And now I’m left wondering
who the hell I am now.
Am I still a strong, independent person?
Or have I become what I’ve always despised?
Have I become one of those people
who rely on someone else to be happy?

I want you to need me, too.
I need you to need me,
the way that I need you.

I don’t know why I wrote about this,
or where I was going with this,
or what I even hoped
to accomplish in writing this.
I guess I just needed to get it off my chest…

Sensitive Subject

That touched a nerve.
So, I'm abandoning my writing as a draft,
and I'll get back to it later.
Lets explore this.

I fought long and hard to get what J is now getting freely.

His hunger. His openness.
His dominance. His attention.
I spent an entire year
trying everything I could think of,
because I knew it was there.
And then I walked away.
I lost a year and a half of precious time
with a man I adore,
because no matter what I tried,
he couldn't be himself.
He didn't know how.
Didn't even understand what I was asking.
Couldn't let himself trust me,
or see how much he cared.

I spent an entire year
working with our energies at night,
while we lay in bed,
building the strength of our connection.
It was the only time
he wasn't totally walled off.

My blood, my tears,
my strength and pain.

And now? Now he has embraced himself.
We came back to each other
and a whole new world had opened up.
It's still difficult sometimes,
because of the history,
but at least we're not locked away from each other.

From the moment they met, J had it all.

The connection. The dominance.
The openness. The attention. All of it.
He is himself, and J spent not a single moment
wondering, doubting that what he'd seen was true.
Not a single tear of aching over
his cold and stoic demeanor.

I don't envy the relationship.
I don't envy the closeness.
I am jealous of the ease at which it came.
I envy that I have seen from day one
how excited he is about J,
after everything I went through
to have that for myself.

It would be easier if I'd had time to adjust slowly.
Still, no reason to dwell on things that didn't happen.
I am happy for him. For both of them.
For the love that I can see blossoming.
He won't admit any such thing,
but it doesn't matter what he says, it's what I see.
He's afraid that I might walk away because this is hard.

I've gone through so much already, this is nothing.
I'm not going anywhere. And I know he isn't, either.

There, now. That feels better.
That's a lot of shit to deal with.
I know that I can, though.

Spring

Spring is always especially painful for me.
The first breaking through from the hard winter ground is the worst.

Everyone keeps telling me
"It's still winter, you dodo.
It's not spring yet."
And, technically, they would be right.
They'd also be wrong.

In this little part of the world,
the hardest work of spring has already begun.
Trees have started to push through
those first little nubbins, which will become buds,
and eventually blossoms and leaves.
Though the visible signs haven't started,
I can feel seeds stirring beneath the ground.
I can feel things making that aching reach
through the shell of winter.

When I say this is the worst part,
it's because this is when things
have to change momentum.

(Basic rule of physics:
An object at rest tends to stay at rest,
unless acted on by an outside force.)

The world is waking.

I am waking.

Like so many things,
I go dormant in the winter.
I revert to "safe" places,
people, and activities.
I don't socialize as much.
I don't self-examine as much.
In the spring, I start working on myself again.
I start going out again.
I shed all of those things
-- habits, people, whatever --
that have been holding me back.
Letting go is hard.
Finding flaws is hard.
All of the things that I've been holding on to
as security blankets get examined
and evaluated for worth.
Including my own ideas.

For days I have been standing
inside a glass bubble,
pounding fiercely.
It hurts to be trapped.
It will hurt in a different way
when the glass shatters.
But it will be worth every second
when I'm free and growing wild again.

When it's over, no one is singing

I'm letting go.
I may or may not decide to tell you that I'm doing so.
I haven't worked out whether you're worth the effort of explaining.
Can't really tell whether you would even care.

Don't worry, though.
I'll still show up at your parties.
That seems to be the main point of concern for you
with our continued friendship.
I enjoy those independently of my attachment to you.
The difference is that I won't pay
the least bit of attention to you while I'm there.

The difference, my dear, is that while
I will still care about your welfare,
I will not continue to allow you
to hurt me with your indifference.
I won't be waiting for you to call.
Even if you said you would.
I won't be opening up to you
or telling you what is going on in my life.
You don't need to know anything
that doesn't affect my attendance at your events.

I don't know what I was thinking.
I guess I thought there might be more between us.
More than the occasional movie,
that I have to beg and wait months for.
More than three words over the telephone.
More than discussions of who I'm fucking.
I guess I thought that I could count on you.
But as soon as I started to do so,
you proved just how wrong I was.

So I won't.
I'll take you as exactly what you have proven to be.
The occasional three words on the telephone,
mostly to establish that I will be there to pad your attendance.
Don't suggest we might go out. I won't be dangled.
I'm not some plaything for you to bat around
when there is no one else on the line.
From now on, the answer is simply 'no.'

I'm letting go. And the simple truth is
that even if I tell you
-- even if I explain it and lay it all out in it's rawest form --
you will never understand how much you meant,
or how much this hurts.

Philosophies of Life

Here are 3 reasons why trust should not be placed as a component in a relationship:

1. There would be no betrayal
2. There would be no hurt
3. There would be no responsibility for the person entrusted with to bear


As such, it was said that
IF trust is not an element,
no matter what happens,
the relationship can still persist.


Such pessimism in life.
Sounds awfully dark and twisted
- almost like something I would say even!


So why then say
"You can trust me"?

Such befuddlements at 2 in the morning
when I need to be at work in 6 hours!
People really shouldn't mess with me like that.
Not when I have a thousand and one things to see to!

And while we're on that subject
we might as well throw in
the latest from Eric which reads:
what is it going to take
for me to see you again?
Name it!

If any readers out there
have any insights as to why
Eric is being so Eric-ish:
please shed some light.

Cos it sure as hell
makes me break into a loud laugh
while I wrinkle my brows!

I am a Daisy What Flower Are You?

"You are just a sweet person.
When a friend needs a shoulder to cry on,
you are happy to offer yours
with a box of tissues as well.
Once in awhile, you wish
you could be a little more dramatic
but then sensibility sets back in
and you know that you are
perfect the way you are."

Dream on dreamer

I know there are times
when you just don't
have it in you to face me.
I also understand
that during those times,
it has nothing to do
with anyone other than you.
Carrying the world can be so weighty
and its demands can be so demanding.
It's alright, I know it's hard to trust me
and I don't blame you.
At times, I don't trust you, either.
Our words can be so revealing,
making us vulnerable.
Sometimes you just need space to breathe.
We all need room to think
and a chance to be alone.
It can get daunting having to tell
your story time and again.
And it always seems to take
more energy than we really have.
But it's okay, I'll wait for you.
Just rest assured that even though
I don't know exactly how you feel,
I do understand you're just doing
what you have to do
and no matter what,
I'll always support that.

Horoscope

Aries (March 21 - April 19)

You're feeling the need for someone to help you start thinking more positively right now -- your own ability to stay focused on good thought is getting challenged.

I'll say.

Down And Out

I started out the new year with tears.
Hours worth of tears.
I have been feeling rather down lately,
for no apparent reason.
Generally more needy
of attention and affirmation.
I know the people who love me
have been trying, but it's not enough.

I am more insecure than
I ever let anyone know. Ever.
I have more guilt, self-doubt,
and fear than I show.
Somehow everyone believes
I am confident.
I must be pretty good at faking.

I am suffering one of my periodic depressions.
Knowing what it is doesn't help much.
They are less frequent than they used to be,
but I do wish they would stop altogether.

I know what I want.
I don't believe it exists.
I might change my mind
on that belief when
my heart comes out of this fog.
I'll let you know.