these are some of my favourite things

Rain on a sunny day
Sun on a rainy day
Breakfast and coffee at midnight
A favorite song being played on the radio
A late night drive
Coffee shops
Campfires and crickets
A really good book
Roller coasters
The beach
Candlelight
Butterflies
Poetry
Real conversation
The sunrise
The sunset
Laughing till your sides hurt
Trees in every season
Sweethearts
Photographs in black and white
Writing
A first kiss
Road trips
Never having to say goodbye
Memories

never look back unless you want to face the past

I knew it was over long before he ever did. I tried to be nice about it, but that only made things harder. He drug it out for much longer than necessary. I didn't think he would end up being 'one of those'. I was in love for the first time in my life and I never wanted it to end. But after our relationship hit the downward spiral, I noticed a change in him and his demeanor. It was like invasion of the body snatchers. A metamorphosis of sorts. I should have known; if it's too good to be true, it probably is.
We had the aesthetically perfect life. No fighting, no lies, no violence, no worries...ever. When I found out I was pregnant with his child I thought it would be the very thing to bring us closer than ever. I couldn't have been more wrong. After the initial shock fron the announcement, he calmed himself. But only long enough to gain the strength to beat the shit out of me, especially in the stomach. Two days later I lost the baby. A direct result of the beating which I had to over-explain to cover up the truth. My doctor never did believe me, but what could he do? As far as he knew the "father" was a figment of my imagination. No one believed me. That was fine because I knew the truth.
Later that year, during the holidays, after things seem to calm down and I had been force fed apologies and excuses to the point of denial, we were suppose to go to my sister's for a traditional dinner with the family. This was the routine every year. Get together, exchange gifts, talk about how we were all used to be so young, and remember when. That year he ruined it. In one fell swoop, he ruined it. My sister hasn't spoken to me since.
The next spring came and I found myself on a particularly wonderful day and felt like drawing murals on the sidewalk in front of our house. The neighbors loved what I had created and some of them actually commissioned me to do the fronts of their properties as well. At that moment when I felt like I was truly appreciated, yet again, he stripped it all away. It wasn't good enough to take the hose and wash it away. No. He went to the shed and found the most flammable liquid he could conjure up and spilled it over the entire surface of my artwork, then set the sidewalk on fire while he laughed. Nobody did a thing to stop him. He was maniacal and out of control. The nice suburbanite scum who praised me minutes earlier retired to their dwellings encompassed in peace and left me to my own personal hell without so much as a word. I knew it was over.
I tried to overlook his shortcomings. I tried to understand his pain. I tried to love him in spite of it all. Sometimes one has to realize her limits. I moved out with no warning and no forwarding address. I found a new job and traded my car, dyed my hair and cut most of it off, and even changed my name. I wanted to become anonymous. For some reason I had the sickening feeling that he wouldn't say goodbye. One week later, I came home to find my cat, my only family, dead on my floor without his head. Blood was everywhere. I screamed when I found the brown paper bag on my coffee table, seeping with what I knew was the rest of my cat. On the wall was a message in black permanent marker. I LOVE YOU! I rang the police, but they didn't seem to take any interest in the situation. "It's only a cat," said the older one. At that moment I realized there was no escape. I had nothting left, so I ran and I never looked back.

the ship is coming in

I'm standing on the dock, ready for this journey.
This time it will be different.
I packed what was necessary and left what I was done with.
Where I am going I'll no longer need it.
The sun is setting soon.
Dusk has always been the most beautiful time of the day.
Lights fading to distant black.
Stars aligned in outrageous formations.
We will only see them as we want to.
Perhaps we will discover some new ones.
Sit down for awhile beside me.
Hold my hand.
Breathe the air in with all the saltiness of the ocean.
Let's pretend that this will be forever.
It's the way it was always supposed to be.
The seabirds have retired for tonight.
Nocturnal life can abound in full glory.
A perfect balance of all that is right in the world.
Good night, my love.
I'll see you on the other side.

so tonight that i might see

You made me realize that I am not ok with being alone.
I miss having someone to fall asleep with
and wake up with
and walk and talk and cry and dream with
and whatever else it is I miss.
I lied when I said I didn't want it.
I lied to myself and cheated us of the memories to be made.
The clock strikes one in the a.m.
Nothing is resolved.
Suicidal tendencies are creeping in again.
The sun is hours away.
Sleep even further.
The sky is so very black.
Did you notice?
Lingering winds strike my face with fury.
It pains and will not let me be.
Though I think I deserve every bit of it.
So beautiful and so tortured.
Give me flowers now,
for when I'm dead
I'll no longer smell the sweetness that they'll bring.

now, this is a strange one

I felt compelled to recall this day from a few weeks ago. A friend and I were out in the middle of the day, when we should have been working, driving around the desert behind our decrepit little city mostly in search of escape from the everyday bullshit we tolerate for pathetic reasons we usually won't admit to. We tried to appreciate the beauty of nature in the hills and the crows and the horses that have long since been pushed from their homes due to structual differences. The sun peeked and hid, the winds kicked up as if to remind us that we were still at home. Random off-road motorists reminded us that we weren't alone no matter how much we wanted to be.
Then, as we meandered further into nothingness, we came to this spot quite obviously tainted by the apathetic bottom feeders of our less than perfect society. I asked him to stop so I could write down everything I found, that maybe later it would turn into something. (We writers are strange cats with not so obvious methods of madness, but I digress). Here's the list:

a garden hose cut into several almost equal pieces
rusted and crusted coffee cans, too many to count
a rug, pattern undiscernible
chopped up, burnt up fragments of cars
water bottles, empty
large white paint bucket, questionable residue inside
half of a corvette
an oil can
two broken window fans
a wig, wtf?
and a dress, a really ugly dress
a squeezed out tube of vinyl adhesive
dish rack
fishing hat
2 pairs of slacks
less than most of a broken bbq
a couch, maybe sofa, not really sure
jack daniels collector can, not worth salvaging
a shave kit
and a whole bunch of too-disgusting-to-mention whatnots

Okay, so what was the point of making this a point, you ask. Honestly I don't know. It seemed noteworthy at the time. As I said, maybe it would spark a future writing project. It didn't. Unless you count this. One lame list of garbage tossed in disregard to the inhabitants of the land by crackheads and criminals.

i'm tired of this world...i want to get off

alright, i'll admit it. i'm terribly pathetic and constantly suicidal. these thoughts infiltrate my head daily, hourly, practically every second. somehow i find ways to keep the struggle alive. for instance, i still realize that there are a handful of people that would be damaged by my actions. life would go on though; it always does.
i remember those shining moments of days and nights passed when unexplicable happiness resided within me and wonder if i would really miss more of them. and i would. i read letters of those who have opted for that lonely road... enough said.
i take solace in the intangible things that are mine forever. they won't go away even if i wanted them to.
so instead, i'll write some poetry and cry and when i'm finished with that, i'll smoke a cigarette and have a cup of coffee and keep telling myself, "it can't rain all the time."

where do you go from here?

so, please tell me, does anyone know? how do you fathom something that is so unexpected when your expectations were nonexistent? how do you know it's okay to ride that crazy wave and just see what happens?
let me preface with this... i recently realized that someone in my life is much more than i thought in the first place and it's a little scary. (you know what i'm talking about). i have feelings i had forgotten i used to know. before i go off on my famous 'cat lady' speech, maybe i should give this a chance, go against everything i had previously believed, throw that caution to the wind, and be real about the whole thing.
it's not often in my little life that i am able to get close with someone. it's not often that any of us can. i've made myself sick over this, but i spoke with my brother in depth, which is a landmark in itself, and he helped extract my overloaded head out of my ass, (pardon the bluntness of that statement).
life is living and risking and loving and playing and dancing and singing and sharing and remembering these things that once pained us but were totally worth it all in the end.
perhaps i have answered my own question.

disintregration

I thought of you today,
when I saw the couple in the park holding hands,
and also when I watched the sunset,
and when I fell asleep and you weren't there.
You called me, just to make sure everything was alright
and I told you it was, but it's not.
I miss you and I never wanted more than to have you right here with me.
As that sad song plays, I never said I would stay 'til the end...
disintegration.
I love the beauty in sadness
when it comes in the form of past tense.
I can't picture a life void of you, and everything that only we knew.
It's too hard to think about moving on from here.
You tell me I should, maybe you even mean it,
but I see it in your eyes...
you miss me too.

crossroads

crossroads... they're supposed to be times in one's life on which a single, solitary decision may change the course of life in the hopes that it will be for the better. maybe it's a new job or a change in marital status or a bold move to an unknown region. who knows?
we all experience this at times, when we don't know which is the right road to take. we're afraid that the decision we make will ultimately be the wrong one. the universe will go spiraling out of control because YOU made the wrong choice and everyone is now doomed and you're pissed off and everybody hates you and... well, then you rant about it. sometimes it is more acceptable when someone else forces the choice on you. then you can alleviate yourself of the consequences and responsibility. then you aren't the bad guy.
transversely, wouldn't it be more righteous to be the bad guy? call the shot? make the choice? it would be grabbing opportunity by the throat and dragging it kicking and screaming instead of waiting for it to sneak up behind you.
i never wished so much to be in love, ( that is an outright lie, but i'll say it anyway.) why does it have to hurt so much when it is real, almost tangible, and still escapes you? i can't stand the pain any longer. it lingers and fails me everytime. i always said that there was no one out there for me. there is no one willing to accept faults and find the hidden beauty and share unknown experiences with and have coffee with in the morning. i miss most the feeling of someone lying next to me, his arm around me in slumber, warm breath on my neck, and waking up together... everyday. i gave up on the idea of it all, (that is also an outright lie, but who's keeping track?)
i know i'm ranting again, but this is my world and no one comes here anyway.

parting is all we know of heaven...

My life closed twice before its close-
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveils
A third event to me
So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)


I felt compelled to share this poem with you who choose to read it. It is said to examine the existence of something wonderful for those who pass, but expose the torment for those left behind.
Today it meant something different to me. It brought a great deal of sadness to me. Someone very close to me quoted it, and given the circumstances, I couldn't help but feel as if it would be the last thing he ever said to me and I cried until the tears were no more. And it still hurts. And it's not okay! And I'm not ready to say goodbye! Not in any sense of the word. It's not fair and I won't accept it! I never will, my dear.

I've never seen you so sad. I wish you would talk to me! I wish I could hold your head in my hands as the tears you keep hidden stain your sad face and make it all better, but you wouldn't let me! You inspired me in ways no other could and made me believe that I am beautiful. All of the memories are mine and you can't have them back! I don't want to forget. I love you. I can't help it... I always will.

blue october

if you have not yet heard of the band blue october, let me be the first to tell you that anyone and everyone should give them a chance. the lyrics are poetic, the perforance is intoxicating, and the guys are super cool. i went to an AMAZING show on friday. i knew they would rock, but they were ineffable! a truly amazing experience. it was a small venue and a free show (we get very lucky sometimes here with that) which allowed the crowd to be at one with the band. i didn't want it to end. then, they stuck around afterwards to sign shit for everyone. not too many bands are willing to that anymore it seems. in case you're wondering, their latest and most famous song is "hate me". check them out...trust me!
just don't make the mistake i did and take your drunken brother who needs a babysitter and a barf bag or you may miss it. yes my bro was "that guy" at the show, but i left him to his girlfriend. she inherited him anyway. (he's all better now except for missing the whole show).

on to some ranting, if you don't mind

So, I needed a kick in the ass. I'm writing a book right now. In fact it has been an obssession for nearly a year now, but I haven't been writing as much as I should be. So, this friend of mine says, "Hey, check out my blog." And I say, "What's a blog?" So I checked his out. How cool is this?! You write you want and people respond (or don't) and it' like your own personal world in here. I think I'm going to love it here. Now I feel a pressure to write even if it's crap, but at least it's writing. Life consumes us all to such a degree that we forget the important things. We tend to lose perspective and focus on the mundane. Ugh! Who wants that? Remember the days of youth (haha) when everything seemed possible and you would actually do all the things you said you would?

Some things you might consider:
throw a party in the middle of the street and piss off all your neighbors,
drink some beer with someone who doesn't speak your language,
take a road trip without any money,
find someone to be close to even if only for a night,
better yet, get in touch with a friend that you just can't stop thinking about,
have a really great game of pool and run the table,
read the best book ever in a single night,
quit spending so much time and energy on hate,
play a sad song and have a good cry,
tell a joke that actually makes someone laugh,
go buy that thing you saw in the store especially if you can't afford it,
wake up and share a cup of coffee with the sun,
conquer that stupid little fear you're too embarrassed to admit to,
dance to the music that plays only in your head,
tell someone or everyone how much they really mean to you.

Life is too f'n short to worry about the little things, but the little things always matter.
figure that one out...

let us begin with some prose, shall we?

Nothing

Darkness falls upon me now.
I don't know why.
I don't know how.
Sadness so deep leaves no room for desire.
I think I'll sit down
and cry for awhile.
For every so often someone must go.
But where does it end?
Does anyone know?



copryright a.s.