Suck My Vortex From Your Lips

I’m dreaming of drowning right now.. literally dreaming it… like I need to be swimming in it. Like I can’t breathe up here… I need to go down… down… down… down past your zipper… lower…

I’m burning from within.. there is a palatable thirst to drink from the pools of you. Every tiny little molecule of you.

I am live wire, overexposed in this light. Where even the sun kissing my skin makes me wet and dry as the desert with nothing left to drink but a memory…

 

Im NOT an Athiest?! Oh My God!

You should know this is the weirdest discovery for me. I have always been a sorta ‘spiritual soul’ in a weirdish way… like I would worship a lamp before I would believe in “your God” type.

But I believe. Like the little Girl in Miracle on 34th street, I believe in you, God. I even emulate you in really big ways. Ok seriously, I know if you know me you just spit your tea/dr pepper/pepsi/monster out of your mouth reading those words. Thinking to yourselves?! Oh my fuck! Is she crazy?!! What the hell did she smoke?! hahaha

And to you as my good friend the monster drinker himself would say… “NAY NAY NAY”  And I would laugh out loud at the light dancing in his crystal blue eyes.

I do. I really do Emulate those whose behaviors I admire. And for that I am following HIS words and deeds, I guess.

And they lead me to enlightenment. And I am pretty sure if God is listening… with perhaps the large exception of the abuse of his own name, HE/SHE probably swears like a sailor and doesnt get hung up on the whole marriage thing, either. I mean, why do you suppose he never bothered to do it!?

So I have recently been challenged in the relationship department. A lot. And a few of you on this ride with me have, too. I hope that isn’t totally my fault. I actually think it sorta kinda was… and then sorta kinda wasn’t. In the ethereal sense, yes, and in the practical sense, no. I’m not that powerful.

I am living the power of the Atonement. I am. I have sinned. I have hurt people I love. And for that I have truly sorrowfully repented to each of you, and to myself for short changing my own happiness.

I was a deep and ridiculous coward. And I am proud I am not now.

And I have forgiven everyone who has ever hurt me, and I will commit to forgiving anyone who ever hurts me.. ever.. for always… and for no matter what. And believe me right here and right now there are no exceptions to this for me. Not anymore. Its been tested, and anyone of you are free to test me here.

It doesnt happen that often, which may only surprise one of you that will read this… because I am almost never sure of myself… and I am as sure of this as I am of the love we share, maybe more

Some of you have told me you see me as weak because ” I cant let go”.

Some of the people I love still ask themselves questions like “what is in this for me?” This is not a question I ever ask. It doesnt actually occur to me think like that. Im less concerned with what you can give me, unless you are willing to simply share yourselves openly and let the collective pool together and form a new thing… an US. A place where we have inside jokes, and history, and celebrate our triumphs and come to find shelter after tragdey.

And you know what I know? I know that I am strong. My heart has been broken and still beats proudly. And I know that for the ones who matter you will know I love you. Each and every single one of you.

Oh… and all this ewy gooey love shit I am sending out to each of you entitles each of you EXACTLY ONE yes, I mean it, ONE I will come help you move and pack party invitations so make it a good one!

And for the ones I have helped move twice, and for the one of you I helped move 4 times in two years in big ways and small ones- I will always help you pack and move. Its kinda part of “our thing”

If any of you need me tonight… JC and I will be hanging out with the dream king*

wHy Im SORRY

I let my world go a little flat today. I am looking for my old bike pump as we speak.. my disposition will inflate in no time, I have FAITH in the process, in the tools I already have in my toolbox. In my my strong heart, my own sacrifices.

I know better than to give in to self doubt and devisives…

I felt jealous last night… I let it all get under my skin. My pretty skin?! Why did I do that to my pretty skin?

It was all the talking and the not talking and the people I used to call my friends and the places my mind went… well they’re hardly destinations, now are they?

I’m sorry I went from 2-D to 1-D, for even a moment.

Because all the time, even the wind says your name. I found you just now all crumpled up in balled up peice of paper- a project I was working on that felt too small to fit you… and I laugh… because I’m so silly.

I know the answer to the question I have no one left to ask… what did I tell you? Why dont I listen to my own words…

just put it down, stop trying to make it perfect. Just put yourself in it and revisit it. From beginning to end. Let it sink in.

Here I am sinking…

Last night my voice didnt fail me… I put all of us in it. I was not half bad, and better ( I think) than the others who shared a spoken word. I know, I know… I am still such a huge nerd. 🙂

I’m sorry for making myself too small to stand next to you today… I wont let that happen again.

I’m sorry I let myself get in the way… I am glad it wasnt for a whole day. but even a part of my day  is more than I can take…   it wont happen again… I believe in what I  know is true….

“The Hi-hello-how-are-you?’s. The I’m-fine-and-you?’s. The slight nod of the head. The threads that bind you to everyone else. It’s coded language for a constant reassurance.
“I’m alive. You’re alive too.”

Now that I am here present in my life again.. and my skin is beginning to glow again, let’s just start over.. with

My post a day challenge is going better than I thought.  and… I am pleased.

Were I an Honest Puck

I stand at cliff’s edge looking out at the sky…  there in that private place it doesnt matter if it should, it comes back without questions like why? and what does this mean? Are still as small as we seem?

And there are all the love I give comes back.

And your arms take up my slack…

It is there at the edge that I let my heart fill with this love, and I fall, making this and everything in it, or after it.. worthwhile at all…

Just a Spoonful

Im taking everything in doses, small easy little doses….

Taking doses of silk, just little bits of sweet… they tickle from the top of my head down to my little feet. …

To be followed by a glass full of bitter… and hot… so hot its sticky the air so thick I cant breathe… and I hate this weather…

The earth opended up and showed herself to me, and I fell in a worm hole trying to thank her for the gift…

I swear to you, reader, and my hung jury… I had no idea it would cause a rift.

Taking it all in doses… just a sprinkle, really of hope… and a dash of Logic and Reason to help them Cope.

 

My favorite Things

My favorite Things

These are my kids and a few I borrow from time to time, who very much feel like mine.
Being a momma to growing up kids is the best thing I get to do every single day. I realized I dont spend a lot of time on the topic here.. so my readers/and my one stalker should know…

I am never alone. I never get to go pee uninteruppted in my own home. But…. I know how to kiss away their tears, talk them out of all their fears… and that every day is better than the one before it no matter what is in it.

Social Conservatism And Liberal Transformation

Is a cancer spreading across the land. Self righteous, indignant mysoginists take stand.

But butterflies are free, at least that’s what they tell me. That I am a butterfly, transformed from the crazy… the roots of my family tree. I am free. I hold tight to this thought at night… when I remember the roots of my tree rising from the ground, with the most horrific sounds.. a panting, ranting rageful soul standing over my bed… beadlets of sweat pouring off her wild eyed head. And I am a tiny sparrow, shrinking under the beating, my big body is bleading. Again. Not again. Not when she raises her voice and stomps her feet. The roots of this tree are filled with venem..  And I pray for God to release them.

And I am grateful to know what it is to have a broken body, that the beatings were only temporary. To know what it is to raise your hands to a child. I am thankful to the Cancer who hit me. A social conservative herself. Couldn’t see it. Didn’t understand that she inherited a problem from her own dad. And the roots of her crazy tree, so deeply planted.

Butterflies in stomach the day I kissed him. His name was Billy, or Ricky or Brian. But who cared, really what his name was, we stood outside in November, and the snowfall seemed a perfect back drop to my first kiss.

I wrote his name, whatever it was, on the soles of my shoes, as if writing it there would make my feet carry me away with him. And we would eat manogs for breakfast, and live in the water, and grow together…

at 13 nothing made more sense to me.

But we grew older, and colder and Ricky. Billy or Brian stopped calling.

And when I talk to my daughter about boys the very first thing I will tell her,  if he likes you, like really, really likes you, he just wont stop calling, and if he does, he never did… but Baby that happens to us all, and I promise you that it wont hurt every time you fall…because all you need is one man, with strong hands to catch your breath…

And our little family tree is a new foundling growing on the shores… and new tiny sparrows find refuge in our branches… and we have no knots,  but our bark is strong, and our roots flow with serenity, and our branches reach out into our hands.

And conservatives will tell you that our tree is ugly, and unnecessary… they are the ones who paved paradise to put up a parking lot. And take from large hearted souls every last penny they’ve got. Who use God as a weapon. As if God is a weapon.

And I am filled with great love for the forementioned Cancers above. I forgive them. I even like them. It may not make sense to you, but without them I would not know my compass. I would not know my strength. And my pleasure would not be so sweet.

Because I was a tiny sparrow buried in a bed and now I am but a butterfly flying free overhead.

Just want to say right now…

That I am happy. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. My children are all well loved and cared for. There is sushi waiting for me with a few of my good friends. 

My delicate friend… I hope you are outside in the sun shining brighter than you did yesterday, and still not as bright as you will tomorrow. I love reading your blog… you have a great way with words yourself. And I am ALL for the unimaginable! 

Image

 

Gather ye Rose Buds where ye may….

I think we should talk today… I have a lot, and I mean a lot on my mind and so much I want to say.

I’m sad this morning because last night I was reminded of what my potential was or should have been. Another reminder that I had squandered 10 years of my purpose.

What did Tori say? My scream got lost in a paper cup? Yea. I feel you, girl.  Except I screamed. I screamed a lot. I just gave in to every silly little feeling, and in the end it didn’t amount to much.. and hurt a lot.

I’m smarter than that. I’m stronger than that. Spinning my wheels. Wasn’t really living. Now, I want to seize the gift the universe is giving.

I shared a peice of our little puzzle with the world last night. It didn’t come out the way I wanted.. I had this thought that if I could just… tell it out… it would come out right.

It didn’t really move anyone, the way I think it should. I didn’t deliver it the way I could.

I’m not giving up. I threw my scream in Tori’s paper cup.  And I will trade it for a sirens’ call… that is the theme, afterall.

I wish you had seen the whole thing… the place that felt like a home I had lived in once before I stayed up 1000 nights … chasing away bad dreams, and turning out the night lights.

There was a girl named Kat with a pretty smile, such a shy girl, who played a beautiful guitar badly, and sang off key… but the song she chose- spoke to me.

And a pixie whose name escapes me, spoke of lost love, of hardship, of poverty… and danced to a song I have played in my bed… recalling the ways you twisted me up in it… and her body moved in a way that seemed compelled by a collective kinetic energy… and I was.. transfixed.

And silly boys wearing their absurdity on their sleeves.. strummed lazily and sang out- their mysogony rang out.

And you will find me there again, it didnt cost very much… but I know me, and I could spend a long while in their company…  Me

the quintessential odd girl, will be there, drawing from my own story and singing a love alive- long after its died.