Sunday, August 5, 2012
Friday, March 9, 2012
Saturday, December 3, 2011
I couldn't help it. There was just this tragic sadness that was beautiful inside him. When I looked; and I mean really looked. I saw my broken self in him. I fell in love with my sadness and it made my suffering more real.
I was blatently rejected and it hurt my ego(or at least what was left of it.) I truly was trying to redeem myself. Pick up his pieces and maybe in turn(vicariously) my own shattered glass would be pieced back together and perhaps make up the exposed window that was there before.
I don't know what it is...but I don't want to be normal; whatever that may mean. I don't want someone who's whole I want someone
People who want to understand; they can't , no matter how hard they try. What you feel is not their reality. It shouldn't ever be and it won't ever be. They will sympathize, empathize; but have no idea what it is to be you. It never is enough. They will never be able to relate. They go back to their own lives when they leave. AND they leave. Sometimes they leave marks on your soul that you can't ever erase.
I try not to let people in anymore. Trying to wash walls away with soap and water when in actuality you need a bulldozer or gasoline to burn or break them down but you don't have the means to access those products so you try with the soap and are unsuccessful because that will never work. You put in so much work, so much of yourself and it never pays off. You see no results. Although you know you are going about it all the wrong, you can't seem to access what you really need. So you continue. You continue to struggle with the soap and water because that's the only way you can. The walls only grow dull and the paint is starting to dissipate but you know it will take you forever to make the whole wall disappear, till it's nothing. Till you see the skeleton of what makes it up.
It's hard to let someone come into your world especially when it's as strange as mine.
I did. We tore down some of those walls.
Then we built new ones.
Monday, November 21, 2011
I wrote your name in my panties and stuck my hands down them and pretended the fabric touching my skin was your facial hair.
I wrote your name on the inside of my other undies and wore them all day. I felt pleasantly aroused and special knowing it was a secret.
"You are what you love. Not what loves you."
"When I said I loved you I really meant it."
Life's complexities never account for love. It's always more than you bargained for. The problem is it shouldn't be a bargain. "Pay full price always," thats my motto. If you got it at a bargain there's probably some shit that's gonna go haywire. If you do that soft shit half ass soon it's gonna get hard and no one wants something soft to be hard and vice versa. Backfire is not far off from the takeoff if you don't go through the process properly. You have to go more than knee deep in; you have to be all the way wet before something real happens.
Smell the sweat just to remember; it could be the last time due to circumstance that you get the opportunity to really smell that smell. If it's real that smell will stick. Only you know if it's real; you know that feeling deep in your loins where you can just see that person in your mind even when they're gone..you don't forget one freckle you know then that you aren't lying to yourself. It's a feeling of true sustainability that haunts you. The most important thing is to remember to be true to yourself because if you at all feel that inkling of doubt that this could be wrong; you're right. Save yourself the grief; love is not pretty. It effects your soul and outlook permanently only you know if it's worth it. Giving someone that "certain" power over oneself when wrapped up in the beauty and pain of what being in someone's life entails is incredible if it is right.
He touched my soul. This is truth. He did. His lips quivered at the touch of my hand. I grabbed his face, pulled myself in and smelt the heat from his breath in the middle of the street under the smoldering hot summer sun. His feet moving back and forth on his skateboard making him the same height as me in my platforms both of us afraid of losing balance.
I believe I did lose it. I lost my cool at that exact moment and wanted to taste the salt from his skin again but politeness overtook us both and I got in my car and drove off with Ghostface blaring. Looking out of my peripheral vision to see if he looked back to watch me leave and to my surprise he did. He did not know that that day my heart was his and only his.
I was uneasy and knew I wouldn't be happy till I had that again.
Every time she turned the corner she'd see it happen in her mind. Every time she would see a skateboarder in that area she'd look to remember or perhaps catch him. Every time she would see the kind of car he drove she would think of him.
"Sentimentality will be the death of us all," she will claim to herself as she clings to remembrance and the memory of him will stay alive.
Friday, October 21, 2011
"Never Let go of That Fiery Sadness called Desire"-P.S: Oil on acrylic on lino cut print on magazine...goes on a window light shines through...(ongoing series)
"What loves you?"- Oil on acrylic on lino cut print on magazine...goes on a window light shines through...(ongoing series)
what loves you front detail