simple truth, simple friends

simple truth

The other day I read the BEST conjunction of words that I had run across in a long, long time: "truth is the best gift anyone can give, though I admit seeing the truth often hurts .... I love what humans were born to be and I hate the fact that we, many times over, disown ourselves. And that, I think, is why I cry inside." (I will link this when I get to the pc)

I've had so much to write about in the past few weeks, but could not come up with the best words in the correct order to properly convey what's swirling, seemingly fruitlessly, throughout my noggin. I pondered on that post over night, along with some other things that happened. It's all too much for one post, but here's my start:

I cannot count how many times I've been asked, by people of every walk, why April & I are such close friends when we are so VERY different in every way imaginable. What we have in common is one major key that I'm pretty confident all my true friends have in common: no expectations. What do take away from each moment, what do you learn at each bump and turn if your eyes and ears are not open? If everyone you surround yourself with is, in general, the same character?

Along the way, where others both would and have turned their backs on weird decisions or countless mistakes, through time and distance, hardships and other priorities, depression and frustrations, we've been able to learn from each other in ways that are immeasurable and unexplainable. Even if I'm an old crumbling barn alone in a field :) I get the analogy.

*EDIT* I'm so excited, I have a wonderful idea to incorporate into my back piece tattoo that I'm designing and guess who I'm gonna ask to draw this particlar piece!! =]
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fake words

Your fake words found their way
Created holes from crevices, snuck inside
Walls started to cave as I listened to your lies

Words I want to say fall on deaf ears
Meaningless
I swallow them down
Drenching the fire with tears

Continuing on
trudging tiredly down the dreary path
Again, you are not unlike any other

And yet again, it's a momentary pain
An anguish of the almost
The could have been

Yet it wasn't.
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no more

Anguish seepes from her lines
Misery etched in her face

Agony seethes through her veins
Clouds convey through her dreams

Dark rays of sun burn her days
Sleepless thoughts corrupt her nights

No more does love hold its rays
No more does hope build her days
...
Breathe no more
Take away the pain

Something for Triana..

Ok, I've had permission to post on here for a while, but I never do. Mostly because I'm just not as brazen or as brave with my writing as Triana is and what I write about is totally the opposite of anything she'd think of to write. She'd write about the absurdities and oddities or random foul stuff of life and I'd point out the beauty, the simple wonders of life, even in the midst of what she'd plain ass call crap (or in her words, "SHIT").

Point being, we are two totally different people with two totally different perspectives on life. And yet, each day we are still completely amazed that we are still this good of friends after more than 16+ years now. So where am I going with this??

Well, I was thinking today and wanted to post my thought here. No, I promise smoke was not rolling out of my ears. But here's the thought I had today-

"Writing is not so easy and ambition is not so easily kept when its depression that eats your soul."

From Findingmywingsinlife aka April or the BFF of the crazy girl who owns this blog.

fading

Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Where'd it all go wrong,
the list goes on and on

And truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying

When you see my face hope it gives you hell
Hope it gives you hell
When you walk my way hope it gives you hell
Hope it gives you hell
*The All American Rejects - Gives You Hell

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't manipulate me.
Don't use me and throw me away.
I used to think that I knew you, inside and out; I never did.
I need someone
... that isn't you.

For now, the pain fades
... until the next round
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closet freak

Dad, I know you read my blogs, trust me that you really don't want to read this one.

UPIC - this post could ruin what's left of our friendship. I'm a changing person.

Over the last two years I've made a slow realization, that I now find out has been more apparent to some of my friends ... I'm bi-sexual.

I told my best friend yesterday (I have to admit I was a bit nervous) and she shrugged her shoulders saying, "yeah, I know". I prepared myself for a lecture or some other sort of reaction, it was a nice relief.

It only took a minute for her shoulders to drop as she sighed, "oh great, now no one is going to believe we're not lesbians"

I had to laugh at her; priceless.

what it is

It's a look. It's a feeling when he's near. It's an easiness of conversation. It's the way his face lights up when he smiles. It's how he smiles when he looks at you. It's the anguish that you feel when you know something bothering him. It's the completely calm, comforting silence as you sit together. It's a sparkle in his eye when you say something funny. It's a warmth when he touches you.

It's a fear of the past. It's a fear of the future. It's wondering if the two of you are on the same level. It's uncertainty. It's a wrong decision. It's a lifetime of second-guessing yourself. It's an uncomfortable lonliness.

It's sitting alone in the park at night. It's a single tear. It's gone.
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kayaking adventure

My phone went off this morning, April wants to go hiking at Chain-O-Lakes State Park. We've talked about it forever, and I grew up on the backside of the park, but we have never been there together to take advantage of the leisurely activities.

Our conversations kill me. On the way there she's talking about her mother, "Even when she was normal, she was crazy."

***

Next subject during our drive ....

~April: When u see an old barn standing out in the middle of the field that looks like it's so ready to just fall over, doesn't it make u want to just go push it over?

~Me: YES! I know exactly what you mean! Those old barns look so weak, like the slightest breath will cause them to crash ... Yet in reality they are just sturdy enough to stand; sturdier than they look actually.

~April: That's kindv like you, you may look weak but you're sturdy enough to stand. You have more strength than what may appear.

~Me: So I'm like an old barn in a field? Humpf.

***

And still to come: "I don't usually do blonde haired boys. Oh wait, I do don't I?"

~You would really be surprised at which one of us this actually came from.

***

We find a suitable parking spot, only I hear, "you mean we have to walk all the way down there? (100 ft)

~ we came here to hike honey

***

After nearly an hour and half of kayaking, "I'm just so happy! If it were your birthday, I'd tell you happy birthday!"

Wow. That's left field.

***

Final note: I think I was attacked by a bug. April was taking a picture of the trail and that crazy picture was the result.

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walk with me, please

I want to read every word you write.
I want to hear every song you sing.
I want to see every step you take.
I want to be beside you every move you make.
I want to know every thought you have.
I want to see everything as you see it.
I want you to actually exist.

Will you not be a fake?
Will you not allow me to break?

Please

explaining me

Yep. Neon green socks. Sparkly brown shoes. And because of my 2 hour fresh tattoo, my jeans which are ordinarliy about 2 inches too long, are now in what looks like 12 inch cuffs so as not to rub my fresh wound. The icing on this wonderful picture? I'm wearing a bright blue lace-trimmed tank top. And I've walked for 2hrs in the heat so my hair is sweat dried in a funked up do. I'm amazing. I truly should not be allowed to leave the house without a padded jacket.
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smells like....

From previous posts, I've mentioned that my cell phone has issues. As does everything in my life. Specifically, my blackberry goes schitzo and wipes my text message log, my phone log, and glitches any incoming text messages into oblivion. One time it reused to read my meida card .... except for 2 songs. How it decided that those two songs were worthy of being playable but deemed the rest of my playist as unacceptable truly escapes all logic.

What did the all-knowing blackberry choose for me? YMCA & Every Breathe You Take ... Police anyone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm in the car today with all 4 kids, my 10-yr-old daughter in the front seat. She's puzzled by the tape deck in my radio. Damn that makes me feel old.

Worse though, she's cruising the stations for acceptable tunes, gets excited and sings along to the song she has stopped on ... the lyrics: "shush girl, shush your lips, do the Hellen Keller and talk with your hips." Not impressive. I'm a bit puzzled which is worse, that some jack made it to the radio with those lyrics or that my TEN-YEAR-OLD knows them.

Redeption comes a few minutes later as we're driving through Amish country and pass a massive cattle farm. She's tired and fidgeting with her fingers rubbing her eyes as she freezes with a horrid look on her face for a split second, only to exclaim, "oh my gosh Mom, for a minute I thought my fingers smelled like shit."

Now tell me that doesn't sound like me.