The Boy and I had a "Nothing" argument the other night.
A "Nothing" argument can look like one of two things:
- One party (usually the one in the worng) asks "What's wrong?" only to be snipped at,--"Nothing"
-Or, a "Nothing" argument can be much more subversive. It can be a dissagreement that ruminates for days and grows and billows and then you're unhappy about their shoe choice, the way they hold the door for you, the fact that they are 3 minutes late for everything- the nothing things that are covering up the something that you're really mad about.
Thankfully, it was the former type of "nothing" argument. He said something, then said nothing, then I secretly was annoyed and, for the first time ever, practically tied his shoes for him to get him out the door faster.
What was wrong? Nothing. I was tired and grumpy and didn't want him to leave and felt icky from walking 18 miles around DC. He said something that annoyed me and instead of saying "Excuse me, Boy, would you mind explaining yourself in a manner that will not frustrate and annoy me?" I said- Nothing-.
So why am I sharing this with you?
Well, A.) Sharing is caring. In addition to that, I thought about somehting very profound after all of this.
If someone is just a someone to whom you relate and enjoy and talk with and stay out late with, if they are not YOUR someone, in addition to not being anyone ELSE's someone, but they are just who they are around you and you delight in them, can you fight with them?
Can you truly call a "Nothing" argument between two people who essentially represent a great calm nothingness to one another a disagreement? Likewise, can you feel anger towards this No one for Nothing?
More importantly, is The Boy a "Nothing" person?
How much longer can I lose sleep driving around town in a sport red metallic beauty of an automobile while discussing Frank Sinatra and other life changing things with the windows half down and the night turning into morning, not wanting to ever be kicked out and continue the charade of "nothing?" And does it matter? Does the Boy want to be a someone- a someone very attached to this someone, who really isn't anyone important?
Do I really want him to be a nothing? The more I think and talk and experience and want and find with him and about him and around him, the more I really think I feel something for him. A nice something. A quiet something. An important something.
But I want to call it nothing just in case he doesn't want it. Or in case he thinks it's nothing important or nice or safe or fun or warm.
I think I will hold out a little longer and settle to just be a Lady in like with a Boy who is nothing and everything in this moment and a few others.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
And then she just kept Yammering
I feel like all we ever do is talk. I mean really when was the last time I sat down and wrote to you and you read the words I said and felt something indescribable form in the pit of your stomach or the crown of your head that was a stronger indication of how you really felt or what I really said?
Do you even remember? Do you remember that poem I wrote you in June of '97 when the rain wouldn't stop and the sun wouldn't come and no one knew anything but sadness?
Or that sonnet I sent you Christmass of 2002 about what I most loved in all the world. As I recall, that made you sigh and lift your handkercheif and dab your eyes and say, "My wasn't that lovely."
And those long drabbling prose pieces that you secretly despised but openly praised me for, can you recollect ever having anything in your heart for them, good or bad?
Of course you can't, because it has been such a very long time.
Do you even remember? Do you remember that poem I wrote you in June of '97 when the rain wouldn't stop and the sun wouldn't come and no one knew anything but sadness?
Or that sonnet I sent you Christmass of 2002 about what I most loved in all the world. As I recall, that made you sigh and lift your handkercheif and dab your eyes and say, "My wasn't that lovely."
And those long drabbling prose pieces that you secretly despised but openly praised me for, can you recollect ever having anything in your heart for them, good or bad?
Of course you can't, because it has been such a very long time.
A Share Of Laughter And Regret.
You and I,
I Don't Know What We Are.
You, I Know
Are Quiet
And Like Words
Like Me.
You, I Know
Are Soft
And Like To Be
Like Me.
You, I Know
Are Smart
And Quick With Wit
Like Me.
So We Are
Indubitably
Similar.
But
I Don't Know
If We Are
What We Are
Or Are We Not
Want We Want
Together.
I Don't Know What We Are.
You, I Know
Are Quiet
And Like Words
Like Me.
You, I Know
Are Soft
And Like To Be
Like Me.
You, I Know
Are Smart
And Quick With Wit
Like Me.
So We Are
Indubitably
Similar.
But
I Don't Know
If We Are
What We Are
Or Are We Not
Want We Want
Together.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Leftovers...
This is just snippets from my end of the struggle of what is left of my now two-year marriage/ordeal with this man, this thing, this creeperson.
And I am just sad. Before I wanted him to change. I still do, just not for me or with me or near me. For himself, by himself, without me. If he would have been what he said he were, would he have ever tricked me into all this?
Here is what I said, but read after for a thought I can't stop my brain from thinking:
"I think it's, I don't know, ironic, that you would choose to criticize my priorities right now. Yes, school means more to me than you. Boo- hoo, cry me a river. Seeing as you were obviously not "working" when you left those messages, I will take you critiques with more than a grain of salt.
Please don't call me while intoxicated.
And please, don't trouble yourself to show up here with divorce papers, because I won't see you any how. Just have your lawyer mail them.
Please advise about the apartment. You owe just as much debt as I do and as far as I know you are not making any payments towards it. It will ruin both of our credit and renter's history if I refuse to pay.
The time for ignorance and indignance is over. Chill out and deal with this like an adult. Stop insulting me and everyone in my camp. Stop with the nonsense, please.
The man I thought I married wouldn't belittle me or my mother, leave nasty messages while intoxicated, critisize me for what I think is most important, or treat me as though I owe him more than he owes me.
Just think about it."
THOUGHT:
Your Parental figure: " are a different kind of man. If he told me he were going to quit smoking, I would expect to se ehim behind every corner in every shed, smoking. But If said you were going to stop, I would never doubt you."
The truth?
You said you would stop smoking the day we were married.
Not for me but for you.
Not only did you lie to me, but you lied to yourself.
And you couldn't get out of the church fast enough to go smoke in the shed.
PRAYER:
That you atleast stop lying, if not truly change.
And I am just sad. Before I wanted him to change. I still do, just not for me or with me or near me. For himself, by himself, without me. If he would have been what he said he were, would he have ever tricked me into all this?
Here is what I said, but read after for a thought I can't stop my brain from thinking:
"I think it's, I don't know, ironic, that you would choose to criticize my priorities right now. Yes, school means more to me than you. Boo- hoo, cry me a river. Seeing as you were obviously not "working" when you left those messages, I will take you critiques with more than a grain of salt.
Please don't call me while intoxicated.
And please, don't trouble yourself to show up here with divorce papers, because I won't see you any how. Just have your lawyer mail them.
Please advise about the apartment. You owe just as much debt as I do and as far as I know you are not making any payments towards it. It will ruin both of our credit and renter's history if I refuse to pay.
The time for ignorance and indignance is over. Chill out and deal with this like an adult. Stop insulting me and everyone in my camp. Stop with the nonsense, please.
The man I thought I married wouldn't belittle me or my mother, leave nasty messages while intoxicated, critisize me for what I think is most important, or treat me as though I owe him more than he owes me.
Just think about it."
THOUGHT:
Your Parental figure: "
The truth?
You said you would stop smoking the day we were married.
Not for me but for you.
Not only did you lie to me, but you lied to yourself.
And you couldn't get out of the church fast enough to go smoke in the shed.
PRAYER:
That you atleast stop lying, if not truly change.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Black and white
OTHELLO AND DESDEMONA: OPPOSITES ATTRACT
Othello and Desdemona, as represented in Shakespeare’s Othello, embody the quintessential example of the phrase “opposites attract.” Beginning with their most basic physical characteristics, the two lovers are contrary in every way. Desdemona is described as beautiful and fair with Othello is referred to by his lineage, often being called “the moor.” Othello is “thick lipped” and a Barbary horse, while Desdemona is a “most exquisite lady” and “most fresh and delicate creature.” Shakespeare further defined their differences by creating separate dialogue for each of the lovers. Desdemona’s speech often flows from her seemingly without thought, a natural progression of her feelings in spoken word. Othello’s speech, in contrary, is much more precise, more pointed and with more impact on the characters around him. In Othello, careful thought proceeds speech while Desdemona’s speech flows without thought from her heart. With two such opposing characters, Shakespeare heightens the drama of a typical love story, making a memorable and lasting impression, and setting the stage for the ultimate drama.
Othello and Desdemona, as represented in Shakespeare’s Othello, embody the quintessential example of the phrase “opposites attract.” Beginning with their most basic physical characteristics, the two lovers are contrary in every way. Desdemona is described as beautiful and fair with Othello is referred to by his lineage, often being called “the moor.” Othello is “thick lipped” and a Barbary horse, while Desdemona is a “most exquisite lady” and “most fresh and delicate creature.” Shakespeare further defined their differences by creating separate dialogue for each of the lovers. Desdemona’s speech often flows from her seemingly without thought, a natural progression of her feelings in spoken word. Othello’s speech, in contrary, is much more precise, more pointed and with more impact on the characters around him. In Othello, careful thought proceeds speech while Desdemona’s speech flows without thought from her heart. With two such opposing characters, Shakespeare heightens the drama of a typical love story, making a memorable and lasting impression, and setting the stage for the ultimate drama.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
THURSDAY THIRTEENNNNNNNNNNN
Yeah. Love songs. Fun
1. When I Fall in Love
I specifically prefer the Celine Dion version, but I learned (just now, actually) that Doris Day made the first recording in 1952. It's just such a powerful song with classic lyrics that makes me cry EVERYTIME.
"In a restless world like this is
Love is ended before its begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun."
2. More Than Words
I just like the message. Because words are just what you make of them- but a kiss, a hug, a long night spent under the stars- mean so much more now than just a simple "I love you"
"What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldnt make things new
Just by saying I love you"
3. I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)
I think if I ever get married agin this will be my wedding song. Listen to it next chance you get, really listen to it.
"When I come home yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you"
4. Nothing Compares 2 U
The best way to describe this song is haunting, and it is. It appears in most of my dreams. Who doesn't love this love classic?
"It's been so lonely without you here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me baby where did I go wrong"
5. Carrying Your Love With Me
This song is just the perfect representation of true love. It's 500 miles gone country. And who doesn't love George Straits sincerity and calm vocals?
"Its my strength for holding on
Every minute that I have to be gone
Ill have everything Ill ever need
Im carrying your love with me"
6. Must Be Doing Something Right
It's country hour here at Thursday Thirteen and at number 6 on your home town love town countdown is Billy Currington's Must be doing something right. With it's smooth hook and Billy's gravely crooner voice (a throw back to classical Gary Allen- gush) I melt into the nearest Manly Man undubitably. (Plus, here's bonus, it's all about S-E-X.... shhh)
"Sometimes all it takes to please her
Is the touch of your hand
And other times you gotta take it slow
And hold her all night long
Heaven knows there's so many ways
A man can go wrong"
7. Nothing On But the Radio
Could i mention Gary Allan smooth sultry gravely drawl without including him on my list of all time love making tracks? You must be kidding.
"We'll fall asleep here in the moonlight
In tangled sheets, we'll be here all night
And when we wake up in the morning
We might stay like this all day
Two people meant to be together
Two lovers dreaming of forever
And it just keeps on getting better
With every tender little kiss"
8. Every (Du)Rose has It's Thorn
Thank you, Tormey. Thats all I have to say about this one.
"I know I could have saved a love that night
If Id known what to say
Instead of makin love
We both made our separate ways"
9. Signed, Sealed Delivered I'm Yours.
This song is actually what inspired this list. It just always makes me smile and sing and wish for things.
"You set my soul on fire
That's why I know you're my heart's only desire
Here I am baby
Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm yours"
10. Fever
I don't know why. I think I am frightened everytime the artists sings the title word... I was intimidated into putting this one on here. Forceable song.
But seriously it is a monster good love song, by jove.
"Sun lights up the day time
moon lights up the night
I light up when you call my name
and you know i'm gonna treat you right
You give me fever"
11. Unchained Melody
I, lik 98% of women and gay men am a sucker for this song. I can't even make an excuse for it. It just is.
"Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea
Lonely rivers sigh, 'Wait for me, wait for me'
'I'll be coming home, wait for me!'"
12. Time of my Life
You are probably not familiar with this Mark Shultz number, but I wouldn't stear you wrong. It's a doll. It goes without saying that I hope I find a man who is this true one day. Just check it out. I couldn't find it on Youtube, so I just gave you the whole song:
"He packed his bags when he was just 18
To see a world he thought he'd never seen
But he knew when he met her
That she was the girl
He'd been waiting for
And each night they spent talking on the front porch swing
And like it came straight out of a movie scene
But one night she stepped out as the sun began to set
When she got to the porch she found a letter that read
You're the only girl I'll ever love
And I'd do anything not to give you up
If I could only stop the world
When you're standing by my side
See I'm having the time of my life
Yes, I'm having the time of my life
The months went by it was their wedding day
A church on a hill wedding bells rang away
She looked like a princess
All dressed up in pearls
It was her proudest day
And he stood all alone in a darkened church hallway
He got down on his knees and he started to pray
He thanked the Lord for his family and the perfect bride
But he couldn't hold back what he was feelin' inside
And he said
She's the only girl I'll ever love
And I'd do anything not to give her up
If I could only stop the world
When she's standing by my side
See, I'm having the time of my life
Yes, I'm having the time of my life
Forty years went by and she lived most of God's plan
She stood alone in an attic, wedding dress in her hand
And she held an old letter written so long ago
But she'd never forget it
No matter how old
And as she turned to put the dress away
And pack up the years
He was standing in the doorway
With his eyes full of tears
And he held her
'Cause you're the only girl I'll ever love
And I'd do anything not to give you up
If I could only stop the world
When you're standing by my side
See I'm having the time of my life
Yes, I'm having the time of my life"
13. Gentle On My Mind
Dean Martin brought this Glen Campbell staple to life for me, and it makes me think of The Boy now that his gentle way has found me.
"And it's knowin' I'm not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some line"
1. When I Fall in Love
I specifically prefer the Celine Dion version, but I learned (just now, actually) that Doris Day made the first recording in 1952. It's just such a powerful song with classic lyrics that makes me cry EVERYTIME.
"In a restless world like this is
Love is ended before its begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun."
2. More Than Words
I just like the message. Because words are just what you make of them- but a kiss, a hug, a long night spent under the stars- mean so much more now than just a simple "I love you"
"What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldnt make things new
Just by saying I love you"
3. I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)
I think if I ever get married agin this will be my wedding song. Listen to it next chance you get, really listen to it.
"When I come home yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you"
4. Nothing Compares 2 U
The best way to describe this song is haunting, and it is. It appears in most of my dreams. Who doesn't love this love classic?
"It's been so lonely without you here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me baby where did I go wrong"
5. Carrying Your Love With Me
This song is just the perfect representation of true love. It's 500 miles gone country. And who doesn't love George Straits sincerity and calm vocals?
"Its my strength for holding on
Every minute that I have to be gone
Ill have everything Ill ever need
Im carrying your love with me"
6. Must Be Doing Something Right
It's country hour here at Thursday Thirteen and at number 6 on your home town love town countdown is Billy Currington's Must be doing something right. With it's smooth hook and Billy's gravely crooner voice (a throw back to classical Gary Allen- gush) I melt into the nearest Manly Man undubitably. (Plus, here's bonus, it's all about S-E-X.... shhh)
"Sometimes all it takes to please her
Is the touch of your hand
And other times you gotta take it slow
And hold her all night long
Heaven knows there's so many ways
A man can go wrong"
7. Nothing On But the Radio
Could i mention Gary Allan smooth sultry gravely drawl without including him on my list of all time love making tracks? You must be kidding.
"We'll fall asleep here in the moonlight
In tangled sheets, we'll be here all night
And when we wake up in the morning
We might stay like this all day
Two people meant to be together
Two lovers dreaming of forever
And it just keeps on getting better
With every tender little kiss"
8. Every (Du)Rose has It's Thorn
Thank you, Tormey. Thats all I have to say about this one.
"I know I could have saved a love that night
If Id known what to say
Instead of makin love
We both made our separate ways"
9. Signed, Sealed Delivered I'm Yours.
This song is actually what inspired this list. It just always makes me smile and sing and wish for things.
"You set my soul on fire
That's why I know you're my heart's only desire
Here I am baby
Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm yours"
10. Fever
I don't know why. I think I am frightened everytime the artists sings the title word... I was intimidated into putting this one on here. Forceable song.
But seriously it is a monster good love song, by jove.
"Sun lights up the day time
moon lights up the night
I light up when you call my name
and you know i'm gonna treat you right
You give me fever"
11. Unchained Melody
I, lik 98% of women and gay men am a sucker for this song. I can't even make an excuse for it. It just is.
"Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea
Lonely rivers sigh, 'Wait for me, wait for me'
'I'll be coming home, wait for me!'"
12. Time of my Life
You are probably not familiar with this Mark Shultz number, but I wouldn't stear you wrong. It's a doll. It goes without saying that I hope I find a man who is this true one day. Just check it out. I couldn't find it on Youtube, so I just gave you the whole song:
"He packed his bags when he was just 18
To see a world he thought he'd never seen
But he knew when he met her
That she was the girl
He'd been waiting for
And each night they spent talking on the front porch swing
And like it came straight out of a movie scene
But one night she stepped out as the sun began to set
When she got to the porch she found a letter that read
You're the only girl I'll ever love
And I'd do anything not to give you up
If I could only stop the world
When you're standing by my side
See I'm having the time of my life
Yes, I'm having the time of my life
The months went by it was their wedding day
A church on a hill wedding bells rang away
She looked like a princess
All dressed up in pearls
It was her proudest day
And he stood all alone in a darkened church hallway
He got down on his knees and he started to pray
He thanked the Lord for his family and the perfect bride
But he couldn't hold back what he was feelin' inside
And he said
She's the only girl I'll ever love
And I'd do anything not to give her up
If I could only stop the world
When she's standing by my side
See, I'm having the time of my life
Yes, I'm having the time of my life
Forty years went by and she lived most of God's plan
She stood alone in an attic, wedding dress in her hand
And she held an old letter written so long ago
But she'd never forget it
No matter how old
And as she turned to put the dress away
And pack up the years
He was standing in the doorway
With his eyes full of tears
And he held her
'Cause you're the only girl I'll ever love
And I'd do anything not to give you up
If I could only stop the world
When you're standing by my side
See I'm having the time of my life
Yes, I'm having the time of my life"
13. Gentle On My Mind
Dean Martin brought this Glen Campbell staple to life for me, and it makes me think of The Boy now that his gentle way has found me.
"And it's knowin' I'm not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some line"
The Importance of Things Written
Today we talked about the importance of poetry in English 101. (aka, Mornings with Khamis, seeing as you can't have a class without anyone else. So English 101 has become me and my professor extracting teeth from our fellow learners)
And this is what I think.
I like you
In the dark
With Ice Cream
On some Tuesday
With many stars
In your eyes
Without taking pictures
And without dreaming
about Scrapbook Queens.
And this is what I think.
I like you
In the dark
With Ice Cream
On some Tuesday
With many stars
In your eyes
Without taking pictures
And without dreaming
about Scrapbook Queens.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
I very much like you...
Who Indeed
Went to DC.
For Eddie Izzard to see.
Enjoyed my time.
A feast for the mind.
I have been pretty down in the pots for a few days for a number of reasons. Would you care to shar with me some sad thoughts?
1. May 13th will be my two year anniversary. This is sad for two reasons.
A. I don't want to be married anymore
B. I haven't been happily married since... well, I never really was I suppose, but what I would call domestic peace ended in June ish of last year.
2. Liking boys sometimes gets me down. I don't know if it because I am still married, but I have all these strange feelings in relation to hapiness and love. I am happy. The Boy and I get along tolerable well. But there is just those lurking feelings that
A. He too will turn out to ba a psychopath
B. He will realize that I am a psychopath
C. It just won't work and I will just add it to the list of things I can't do properly.
3. I just. Don't. Know. There is a seed of doubt and frustration and anticipation and anxiety growing right here in my mid section and i can't get rid of it. Something might be/ could be/ is/ will be coming and I feel it and I don't know how to stop it or change it or accept it. Help...
4. Money... That's what I want.
It's all there. All this strange pseudo-negativity floating around in my brain and making my head spin. I just don't understand it. I don't know if I mind feeling a bit down either.
Or if it just adds to my poetic credibility.
Went to DC.
For Eddie Izzard to see.
Enjoyed my time.
A feast for the mind.
I have been pretty down in the pots for a few days for a number of reasons. Would you care to shar with me some sad thoughts?
1. May 13th will be my two year anniversary. This is sad for two reasons.
A. I don't want to be married anymore
B. I haven't been happily married since... well, I never really was I suppose, but what I would call domestic peace ended in June ish of last year.
2. Liking boys sometimes gets me down. I don't know if it because I am still married, but I have all these strange feelings in relation to hapiness and love. I am happy. The Boy and I get along tolerable well. But there is just those lurking feelings that
A. He too will turn out to ba a psychopath
B. He will realize that I am a psychopath
C. It just won't work and I will just add it to the list of things I can't do properly.
3. I just. Don't. Know. There is a seed of doubt and frustration and anticipation and anxiety growing right here in my mid section and i can't get rid of it. Something might be/ could be/ is/ will be coming and I feel it and I don't know how to stop it or change it or accept it. Help...
4. Money... That's what I want.
It's all there. All this strange pseudo-negativity floating around in my brain and making my head spin. I just don't understand it. I don't know if I mind feeling a bit down either.
Or if it just adds to my poetic credibility.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
A glimpse of Past Injuries
"I can't believe it, Young"
"What is that, my love?" The Young we know never coos, nor even seems to understand the art of making love, but this is the old Young, this is the way that he used to be in all of his naive splendor.
"Young I can't be it"
"What is that, my love?" What he heard in her voice- a measure of displeasure, disbelief and a helping of dishonor- he'll never forget.
"Young, I won't be it..."
"What is that, my love?" And at that, at her first step towards decisiveness, Young was Undone. Unloved. Un- John.
She had a choice.
His very life was gone.
Oh, Young.
What sentementalities you and I share for life and love and things undone.
"What is that, my love?" The Young we know never coos, nor even seems to understand the art of making love, but this is the old Young, this is the way that he used to be in all of his naive splendor.
"Young I can't be it"
"What is that, my love?" What he heard in her voice- a measure of displeasure, disbelief and a helping of dishonor- he'll never forget.
"Young, I won't be it..."
"What is that, my love?" And at that, at her first step towards decisiveness, Young was Undone. Unloved. Un- John.
She had a choice.
His very life was gone.
Oh, Young.
What sentementalities you and I share for life and love and things undone.
Monday, April 28, 2008
I think I made a huge mistake...
While Roasting Marshmallows.
I just think I want to cry for about thirteen days straight.
But what I really need is some heavenly assurance.
And Health Insurance.
And a day off.
And a million dollars.
Regardless, I am an idiot.
And I am not afraid to admit it.
Atleast, I won't be when I don't have a choice. And all the world will know that I make silly choices when I am left to my own devices on warm summer nights with you by my side and a silly notion of affection.
Not everything that happens while roasting marshmallows stays in the fire.
I just think I want to cry for about thirteen days straight.
But what I really need is some heavenly assurance.
And Health Insurance.
And a day off.
And a million dollars.
Regardless, I am an idiot.
And I am not afraid to admit it.
Atleast, I won't be when I don't have a choice. And all the world will know that I make silly choices when I am left to my own devices on warm summer nights with you by my side and a silly notion of affection.
Not everything that happens while roasting marshmallows stays in the fire.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Simple Pleasures
Gnarls Barkley.
Being Ghetto Fabulous.
Not having a single care in the world when I am driving in my car with the windows rolled down and my hair blowing and my bass thumping and you on my mind.
Being Ghetto Fabulous.
Not having a single care in the world when I am driving in my car with the windows rolled down and my hair blowing and my bass thumping and you on my mind.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Unwritten.
You tease me with a prospect. You tease me with the chance to fill a tablet with my favorite medium.
You speak, and you say, "I am unfulfilled"
I offer, and "What do I do?"
*************
"My mind is currently a blank sheet of loose leaf waiting to be written upon."
Beauty is such as I had never imagined in a mind that dilates beyond my perception.
Should I, with an unsteady and failing hand and heart fill that empty page, disorganized with scraps of pictures, tender words, witty things and soft remeberances, it would last you as long as you'd like.
You might like to fill it in as we go, though with your own thoughts. Precious, quiet, genius.
Yes, I shall ignore my desires and propel your creativity to fill your own empty space and maybe a few of mine as well.
You speak, and you say, "I am unfulfilled"
I offer, and "What do I do?"
*************
"My mind is currently a blank sheet of loose leaf waiting to be written upon."
Beauty is such as I had never imagined in a mind that dilates beyond my perception.
Should I, with an unsteady and failing hand and heart fill that empty page, disorganized with scraps of pictures, tender words, witty things and soft remeberances, it would last you as long as you'd like.
You might like to fill it in as we go, though with your own thoughts. Precious, quiet, genius.
Yes, I shall ignore my desires and propel your creativity to fill your own empty space and maybe a few of mine as well.
Living my life in Text message currency.
"What do you mean, Young?"
"Huh-- about what?"
"You said something and i just think I misunderstaood you."
He wasn't really being fair. He knew what she was asking. He knew she wanted to be reassured. He knew she was looking for him to validate he feelings. Her thoughts. Her kisses. But he wanted to be coy. He wanted her to wonder. To probe. To question.
This was all that Young had said to her to make her heart flutter and her palms to sweat and her eyes to twinkle:
"You know, Young, you are a free man. You can do whatever you want."
"Free, huh?" Young winked at her and thought so strongly that he was sure she knew his thought as her own that "Were I too consider myself free, I would be a fool not to belong to you"
And that was all.
And Young thought, "Maybe I did speak aloud to her."
"Huh-- about what?"
"You said something and i just think I misunderstaood you."
He wasn't really being fair. He knew what she was asking. He knew she wanted to be reassured. He knew she was looking for him to validate he feelings. Her thoughts. Her kisses. But he wanted to be coy. He wanted her to wonder. To probe. To question.
This was all that Young had said to her to make her heart flutter and her palms to sweat and her eyes to twinkle:
"You know, Young, you are a free man. You can do whatever you want."
"Free, huh?" Young winked at her and thought so strongly that he was sure she knew his thought as her own that "Were I too consider myself free, I would be a fool not to belong to you"
And that was all.
And Young thought, "Maybe I did speak aloud to her."
Monday, April 21, 2008
And April is the cruelest month...
I just wanted to jot something down that was worthy and genius, but typically when I set out without a clear plan my brain plays tricks on me.
I start thinking about everything except brilliant literaray accomplishments. Things like tennis and mountain biking and pizza flipping and bread baking and dinosaurs and piano playing. Real life things that mean nothing to posterity or other people of elevated intelligence and distinct taste.
They just mean things to me.
And how un-genius is that.
I start thinking about everything except brilliant literaray accomplishments. Things like tennis and mountain biking and pizza flipping and bread baking and dinosaurs and piano playing. Real life things that mean nothing to posterity or other people of elevated intelligence and distinct taste.
They just mean things to me.
And how un-genius is that.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Something I should have realized, one thing I know for sure, and some extra words I wanted you to hear straight from me.
I thought about you today. I thought about how you don't hold me tight and about how when I sit next to you so oft' in the car or at dinner or on the porch in the soft yellow porch light that i have to ask to be touched. I thought about how you always make me make the first move in everything. I thought about how you have no interest in promising me forever or in owning me or even in owning your own feelings for me.
I thought about you today and I smiled. There was joy in my heart and a lightness in my step and a twinkling in my eye.
What a joy to be on the same simple page. To be at the beginning of the same simple story, or the end of the same great tragedy. And to be there with you.
To turn to someone at the same time with the same sentiment and the same heart as they are turning to you and speak "Where are we going?" And to answer with your heart or head quietly "Who knows, but isn't it nice here?"
Who Knows.
I thought about you and how quiet you are. And how nothing makes you nervous. How nothing changes your constitution. nothing- except the state of my tires, or when I laugh to hard and start coughing like a stage three TB patient- Nothing worries you or makes you fret or wring your hands. You calmly assess situations and move through with a clear head and Lord only knows what you think when you're silent and alone n your head.
I can't do that. i can't be that. I have to talk. I have to talk so much that i do it (poorly) in four different languages. I have to talk so much that i do it with my hands. On my food. When i sing. In my sleep. With a million pieces of scrap paper and on a thousand wasted web pages. i have to worry and fret and wring my hands gnash my teeth so much so that i wake up in cold sweats always feeling that I have forgotten something. Anything. Lunch. Money. Mom's Birthday. To Clean my Shoes.
I change so much I wear myself out. I change more than I like. Most days I wake up unsure of where my day will begin much less where it will end or who i will be when I make it there. Will I be laughing so hard I can't breathe or crying so hard and so pathetically alone that i can't bear to force my chest up once more. Or sleeping. Or dreaming. Or drawing. Or dancing. or driving. Or walking. Will my day end too late or my night begin to early? Will my glass be half full or will I have it all wasted?
How can you possible stand it? How do you torture yourself by asking me to speak? (which you do, telling me i shouldn't be so quiet what's wrong do I need anything and what am I thinking?) Why? Why do you demand my inconsistencies and incongruities?
Or do you? Maybe somewhere in the vast expanse of your great mind that devours books and find delights in simple jokes and puppy kisses- just maybe you think I'm a babbling idiot. A dolt. A loser with an unsettling upper respiratory issue. Maybe you think i'm a baboon. A joke of a woman with an unnecessarily large vocabulary.
Perchance you view me as a fun project. Someone to talk and take up your time until something better comes along. Some better offer. I'm okay with that.
I'm no longer fostering dreams of marriage and children and family dogs on little leashes and edible gardens in front of my brick false front with a deck made for parties and a Baltimore-ese stoop for which to sit on and talk to passing neighbors and sometimes get a little rowdy all in good fun. I'm no longer looking for a love to shake the very root of me and change me and own me and put me above all other things in the universe. I'm no longer willing or needing to pledge my life's blood and devotion to the love of another.
I want someone to sit with. And drink with. And drive around town. And drag out to silly excursions. And make to buy me ice cream. I want someone who appreciates me, not someone who flatters me. Not someone who tells me what i want to hear, just what they want to say.
I'm not going to thank God for the occasion of meeting you. I would not be devastated tomorrow if you told me you and I were nothing more than pals. I don't miss you when I sleep nor dread the days alone. When I see you my heart doesn't roll with elation. My heart doesn't bob inconsistantly up and down in my chest.
I just simply like you.
I just simply like you as much as you like me.
And isn't that the point anyhow?
I thought about you today and I smiled. There was joy in my heart and a lightness in my step and a twinkling in my eye.
What a joy to be on the same simple page. To be at the beginning of the same simple story, or the end of the same great tragedy. And to be there with you.
To turn to someone at the same time with the same sentiment and the same heart as they are turning to you and speak "Where are we going?" And to answer with your heart or head quietly "Who knows, but isn't it nice here?"
Who Knows.
I thought about you and how quiet you are. And how nothing makes you nervous. How nothing changes your constitution. nothing- except the state of my tires, or when I laugh to hard and start coughing like a stage three TB patient- Nothing worries you or makes you fret or wring your hands. You calmly assess situations and move through with a clear head and Lord only knows what you think when you're silent and alone n your head.
I can't do that. i can't be that. I have to talk. I have to talk so much that i do it (poorly) in four different languages. I have to talk so much that i do it with my hands. On my food. When i sing. In my sleep. With a million pieces of scrap paper and on a thousand wasted web pages. i have to worry and fret and wring my hands gnash my teeth so much so that i wake up in cold sweats always feeling that I have forgotten something. Anything. Lunch. Money. Mom's Birthday. To Clean my Shoes.
I change so much I wear myself out. I change more than I like. Most days I wake up unsure of where my day will begin much less where it will end or who i will be when I make it there. Will I be laughing so hard I can't breathe or crying so hard and so pathetically alone that i can't bear to force my chest up once more. Or sleeping. Or dreaming. Or drawing. Or dancing. or driving. Or walking. Will my day end too late or my night begin to early? Will my glass be half full or will I have it all wasted?
How can you possible stand it? How do you torture yourself by asking me to speak? (which you do, telling me i shouldn't be so quiet what's wrong do I need anything and what am I thinking?) Why? Why do you demand my inconsistencies and incongruities?
Or do you? Maybe somewhere in the vast expanse of your great mind that devours books and find delights in simple jokes and puppy kisses- just maybe you think I'm a babbling idiot. A dolt. A loser with an unsettling upper respiratory issue. Maybe you think i'm a baboon. A joke of a woman with an unnecessarily large vocabulary.
Perchance you view me as a fun project. Someone to talk and take up your time until something better comes along. Some better offer. I'm okay with that.
I'm no longer fostering dreams of marriage and children and family dogs on little leashes and edible gardens in front of my brick false front with a deck made for parties and a Baltimore-ese stoop for which to sit on and talk to passing neighbors and sometimes get a little rowdy all in good fun. I'm no longer looking for a love to shake the very root of me and change me and own me and put me above all other things in the universe. I'm no longer willing or needing to pledge my life's blood and devotion to the love of another.
I want someone to sit with. And drink with. And drive around town. And drag out to silly excursions. And make to buy me ice cream. I want someone who appreciates me, not someone who flatters me. Not someone who tells me what i want to hear, just what they want to say.
I'm not going to thank God for the occasion of meeting you. I would not be devastated tomorrow if you told me you and I were nothing more than pals. I don't miss you when I sleep nor dread the days alone. When I see you my heart doesn't roll with elation. My heart doesn't bob inconsistantly up and down in my chest.
I just simply like you.
I just simply like you as much as you like me.
And isn't that the point anyhow?
Friday, April 11, 2008
Uninsipred and Boring Thursday Thirteen.
THURSDAY THIRTEEN...?
I would like to open this with something funny:
"So what you're saying is you like to suck the liquid souls out of cows?"
I don't know, dude.
Ten pet names I hate being called:
1. Weezy
2. Missy
3. Boo
4. Lilly
5. Felice... Don't ask
6. Momma
7. Babe, although Baby is acceptable for the most part.
8. Mrs. Dahl
9. My anything. I am not yours. I am a person, not a doll.
10. Melissa... another interesting one.
Three pet names I not only allow but incourage:
11. L-Dawg
12. Louise (which is my name, but no one likes it)
13. Lady... Which is a new one entirely.
This was the mort uninspired post I have ever created. Enjoy it while it last, I'll most likely kill it in the morning.
I would like to open this with something funny:
"So what you're saying is you like to suck the liquid souls out of cows?"
I don't know, dude.
Ten pet names I hate being called:
1. Weezy
2. Missy
3. Boo
4. Lilly
5. Felice... Don't ask
6. Momma
7. Babe, although Baby is acceptable for the most part.
8. Mrs. Dahl
9. My anything. I am not yours. I am a person, not a doll.
10. Melissa... another interesting one.
Three pet names I not only allow but incourage:
11. L-Dawg
12. Louise (which is my name, but no one likes it)
13. Lady... Which is a new one entirely.
This was the mort uninspired post I have ever created. Enjoy it while it last, I'll most likely kill it in the morning.
If I were to scrap book, I would have taken that tissue off of your bed post.
Have you ever heard someone make fun of something so much (like homosexuality, driving tricked out SUVs, underwater basket weaving) and then thought, "Maybe this is what this person wants most in all the world?"
Last night, The Boy and I were mocking scrapbookers. I myself USED to be a scrapbook type of person. The type of person who sees things and thinks, I should like to remember this for all my life. So I shall make a page out of paper cut outs to memorialize it. When I am done with the page I shall affix it to a book, place he book on my shelf and disregard it for atleast three years.
Then I realized how rediculous and cluttered this practice makes one's life.
But this is kind of a scrap book. There are pictures. There are words. There are memories and feelings and short thing and long things and things that really only mean something to me. There are fallen thoughts and year long dreams and old flames and new desires from the pit of my stomach and the tip of my tongue.
And I told The Boy this.
And he pointed out that I am wrong. "Because that involves neither scraps or books."
So I guess I don't scrap book. Which I guess makes me like 35% cooler than those girls that take every ticket stub and every handkerchief and every receipt.
Or it makes me less of a girl, I don't really know.
Last night, The Boy and I were mocking scrapbookers. I myself USED to be a scrapbook type of person. The type of person who sees things and thinks, I should like to remember this for all my life. So I shall make a page out of paper cut outs to memorialize it. When I am done with the page I shall affix it to a book, place he book on my shelf and disregard it for atleast three years.
Then I realized how rediculous and cluttered this practice makes one's life.
But this is kind of a scrap book. There are pictures. There are words. There are memories and feelings and short thing and long things and things that really only mean something to me. There are fallen thoughts and year long dreams and old flames and new desires from the pit of my stomach and the tip of my tongue.
And I told The Boy this.
And he pointed out that I am wrong. "Because that involves neither scraps or books."
So I guess I don't scrap book. Which I guess makes me like 35% cooler than those girls that take every ticket stub and every handkerchief and every receipt.
Or it makes me less of a girl, I don't really know.
Monday, April 07, 2008
I just wanted to say this before it escaped me
I'm building my way through and to you and I am getting distracted along the way by brightly colored objects and the beauty that falls from your eyelashes when you sleep and dream that I would be touching you in ways to make you swoon under a moon that we both see and wish with which to be on and when you have a light in your heart a love would grow from the start of it the very start of life is this in love we find our very hearts which have been torn and worn like emblems of lustful pride but now it's just you and me and a great big sea for us to divide and own and make our way together with the moon and light and love.
Me, Maybe.
We girls have a few horrible habits.
One of which is taking showers that last for hours and making you late for everything.
Another, much more interesting phenomenom is our ability to lie. In a very specific way. Allow me to elaborate:
You boys say: "Honey, What's wrong?"
We girls answer, tersely, "Nothing, why would you think something were wrong?"
"Well you just seem quiet..."
Here is our flaw. our down fall. Our issue.
We as women think that you know very well what you have done/ omitted/ allowed to happen that has affected us. And you know you were wrong. And we are just waiting for you to ask how to fix it. Read on:
You boys say: "I had fun today/ last night/ at the beach/ with your family"
We respond "Yea, I bet you did/ Whatever/ Me too, especially meeting your ex-girlfriend"
At this point, we think we've made it clear. We think you understand. We imagine that you are now forming an apology that includes a mentioning of how beautiful we are.
Instead you say: "Good." And then you attempt to kiss/ fondle us messily.
I am unlike most girls here though. Because I fall for it. I think you really do know what you've done worng/ forgotten to do/ mistakenly done to hurt me.
I think your kisses/ neck rubs/ thigh grazings are just your way of saying "I'm sorry. I fully admit my stupidity and heartily hope you will forgive all of my transgressions because, well, I am, afterall, a sex-crazed fumbling ritardando."
Ah, the joys of young, pseudo-insane, almost- love.
One of which is taking showers that last for hours and making you late for everything.
Another, much more interesting phenomenom is our ability to lie. In a very specific way. Allow me to elaborate:
You boys say: "Honey, What's wrong?"
We girls answer, tersely, "Nothing, why would you think something were wrong?"
"Well you just seem quiet..."
Here is our flaw. our down fall. Our issue.
We as women think that you know very well what you have done/ omitted/ allowed to happen that has affected us. And you know you were wrong. And we are just waiting for you to ask how to fix it. Read on:
You boys say: "I had fun today/ last night/ at the beach/ with your family"
We respond "Yea, I bet you did/ Whatever/ Me too, especially meeting your ex-girlfriend"
At this point, we think we've made it clear. We think you understand. We imagine that you are now forming an apology that includes a mentioning of how beautiful we are.
Instead you say: "Good." And then you attempt to kiss/ fondle us messily.
I am unlike most girls here though. Because I fall for it. I think you really do know what you've done worng/ forgotten to do/ mistakenly done to hurt me.
I think your kisses/ neck rubs/ thigh grazings are just your way of saying "I'm sorry. I fully admit my stupidity and heartily hope you will forgive all of my transgressions because, well, I am, afterall, a sex-crazed fumbling ritardando."
Ah, the joys of young, pseudo-insane, almost- love.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Young and Rock Music and the Ocean and the Girl
"So you know nothing about modern rock music?" He was playful and free with her now, much more easy than he had ever felt neccessary in previous hours. They had shared something more important and now they could be open.
"Well, I suppose you could put it that way," God it felt good to allow a twinkle in her eye as they barely held hands and walked down the board walk, chilly but bathed in a white sun. The kind of sun that only shines for pseudo-new lovers, barefoot on the beach while eating soft serve ice cream and squinting their eyes to smile. "I know a lot about Elvis, and Dino, and Michael Buble."
"Who? Nevermind... I suppose you can live your live just fine without knowledge that is deep and meaningful"
"Meaningful, huh?"
Just a snapshot of what two poeple who like to walk on the beach together in flip flops without sunglasses while kites are flying and dogs are barking might discuss. Small things that are said quietly or screamed calmly depending upon the roar of the ocean, the din of the arcades, the hum of the giggle of small children.
Just a little mark of freedom in thought and in action that Benny really ddin't know how much she had missed.
"Well, I suppose you could put it that way," God it felt good to allow a twinkle in her eye as they barely held hands and walked down the board walk, chilly but bathed in a white sun. The kind of sun that only shines for pseudo-new lovers, barefoot on the beach while eating soft serve ice cream and squinting their eyes to smile. "I know a lot about Elvis, and Dino, and Michael Buble."
"Who? Nevermind... I suppose you can live your live just fine without knowledge that is deep and meaningful"
"Meaningful, huh?"
Just a snapshot of what two poeple who like to walk on the beach together in flip flops without sunglasses while kites are flying and dogs are barking might discuss. Small things that are said quietly or screamed calmly depending upon the roar of the ocean, the din of the arcades, the hum of the giggle of small children.
Just a little mark of freedom in thought and in action that Benny really ddin't know how much she had missed.
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