It was supposed to be a short story but instead it became you

It felt like a Sunday evening. There was the usual yelling and bestial roars coming from all angles. Sadly it was noon on a Wednesday, midsummer, beginning of summer, something of that heat wave sort. High noon bright in the sky and the floors were shaking in anticipation. One hell of an algorithm or parabola, some kind of messy mess that only few can distinguish as simple sun stroke.

Secrets and secrecy and yet the same mistakes are repeated through and through out. I see you and feel estranged, like I was placed against a wall, hanging from a hook, to be questioned. It’s not you, it’s definitely not, and you... you are tremendous in all ways. The thought of it though, the sight, I just am immediately urged to hold and touch and caress your soft stomach, and newly formed, or forming biceps. I think so well, but I get so lost because of this emotional hypocritical ideological blasphemous you.

You had me where I wanted to be. I feel great usually because, simply enough, I am great usually. But gosh have I ever lost my mind. Since I saw you’re face lit with laughter, I’ve just pictured it so many more times, not because I miss you, but the thought of you being happy ravages through my veins and all I can think of is that small joy I wish you had so long ago. The yelling was a reminder of how great my life is. I watched this madness unfold and kept thinking of how the worst we ever did was discuss gently what may or may not be wrong. Who were we fooling though? I said you were right, and you were. It hurt really terribly though. But you were always so right, and so pretty.

I never felt betrayed by you in any way. You were always so honest. Completely brave and yet the utmost careless fool I have met in all my time. There were no games, except hiding pain, back and forth, just pretending it was always ok.

I think you will never be off my mind.

I could fall and break

Next door is a market with all the berries and greens a girl could need. And across the street lay an ocean of adventures, like iced desserts and fried dinners, a park, a bench or two. So we take chances, go out on limbs, usually two limbs.
It's not a walk in the park, but we keep trying to bowlegged walk through that same damn park. I'm tired of everything, hate everything and it's because of people like you. High heads and hollow hearts, it's so repetitious.
My mistake, I thought it was something different.

I have no idea what more I am waiting for. Honestly I don't think anyone really is to blame but you are such a perfect target. I wish you the worst and best and all in between. I wish you feel everything there is to feel in the process of living.

The thrill

There is a major thrill to be attributed to the creation process.
It shakes and moves and makes you sweat and cry.
Forward motion, motion, porgress, change.
It's so amazing to just try, even when I fail everytime.
I get shivers thinking of possibilities, and beauties.
And creating...
This process of amazing thrills and bounds unseen,
And catastrophe lurking.
And never ever doubting a fucking single step.

It`s like being high without paying the toll.

To do list

I am a feminist, it's almost a given when you see me.
But like seriously what on earth does that really mean,
Am I supposed to continue dead protests and kiss in's?

Yes a documentary
Yes a tour of the museum
Yes this is living it up.

I'm pretty much useless except to kill a few stones with a bird and such on occasion.
I entertain only 1/3rd of the time too.
Spyrographs are more enriching.

And my coffee should be ready.


and iron, bcomplex, flowers

I'm so sick

I really loved him and this is why we can't spend time together.
I wish we didn't act like 4 year olds when we flirt, and I really wish we didn't flirt.
I want to say you started it. You always do actually.
I get anxious, and I hate being anxious because I get so sick to my stomach.
I cry and cry and cry and feel like I'm going to blow up.

And of course now things fall back to shit because I thought, I THOUGHT this was going to be the month where my life turned around. I hate everyone.

Are you sure?

So cold but finally not damp,
not digging deep in my bones
and turning me weak.
Combustion and pressure
I really do have to work on decreasing my anxiety.
Raw throat and dried eyes,
odd enough combination.

I feel fine

It's and histoire de family. And I wont rest until I forget about it

Machiavelli

As Nicolo said, it is best to be what is in your control, otherwise the power is lost. So it is better to be feared than loved because love is far out of control and as great as it is, it's vapid. So Nicolo, I getcha. I really do.
Reality shows a roaring thunderous temperment though, so what I know isn't in practice because, as you know Nicolo, we are but human, I am no Prince. It's early so I'll say a new day is dawning, but it's the sun has his head still burried in clouds.
I'm a giant cliché. Two eyes, two ears, and one hell of a mouth. Relying on logic, going blind and being battered emotionally, logic hasn't really worked just yet. "I'm sad and I'm lonely and I never had a pony.
Ti voglio molto bene, Nicolo. IO STARE ATTENTO. Non stare bene. Desidero divertimi.
I really wish this made sense.

Shapes and smoke signals

Listening to ideological tunes
Sharing features and hense heritage
Feeling passive
And of course offensive.
"Do you like my thighs"
Interested only in interesting things,
But of course,
Not everything can be.
Animated tunes glistening like beads of perspiration.
Just animations,
Simple figments of altered realities.
Or was it realistic reality in real time?
An analysis of life by living
Or analysing dying
Whichever tune fits.

Smoke that cigarette

I'm going to make a list for everything I was found guilty of and apologize for it. I wasn't guilty in most cases.

• I'm sorry I made "your" daughter run away from home to Toronto.
• I'm sorry you never had a child graduate with honours.
• I'm sorry the administration believed I lacked respect.
• I'm sorry YOU stood by me while I was not in my right mind in that bathroom stall.
• I'm sorry it took you so long to realize you love me.
• I'm sorry I got expelled from Dawson.
• I'm sorry everything I say isn't cool enough for you.
• I'm sorry I talked about him so much when nothing ever happened.
• I'm sorry I embarass you so much.
• I'm sorry I said I love you on Skype.
• I'm sorry I complain more than you, apparently.

Now you try!