nobody's reality

Life makes a waste of itself. Hanging precariously onto nothing. Tragedy, bad decisions, regret curled into every action. A moment of elation crushed under the weight of reality.  Nothing more. Endlessly. 

All I ask, all i've ever asked of ... honesty. No games. No false emotions. No lies. Cut & dried, nothing masked. 

Wash away the sorrow, the wistfullness, surrendering to an aching desire for relief - into mind numbing release. Comfort that brings confusion yet hazardously invites chaos. Here I remain, drowning in reality with glimpses of a false triumph lingering in view. 

precipitous edge

Thoughts cascading wearily. Emotions turn upon themselves too easily, devouring sanity, leaving devastation in   the wake. Restlessly wavering on the precipitious edge between elation & desolation. A single step in any direction, disasterlessly complete. Waiting desperately for a slip in any direction.

words to say

Your words come few and far between. The silence remaining deafens my ears. Where are you? Hiding? I don't enjoy your game. I'm not here at your pleasure. Endlessly waiting. 

Today becomes tomorrow, and from tomorrow into yesterday. Silence creeps in again, broken only by the slightest "hey". Dreamily I pretend that today you have made a new choice. Eventually resigning with a heavy hearted sigh, relinquishing myself to the moment of truth. I am nothing. Forever will be. 

Your voice naught but a whisper in my ears from months gone past. Your eyes captured in the flash of light where I gaze relentlessly, imaging half heartedly that the surreptious stare meant only for me. 

These things aren't meant to be. A tear, into the night, then gone.     

not me

I'm not the fantasy you think you see before you. Not the princess of your dreams. Not the angel from your nightmares. No. That's not me.

I want to hide from life. I want to hold onto everyone. Make the world disappear. Silence the screaming. I want everything. Nothing.

i, I, I.... iPhone

It's a sad day for some - the Blackberry has been retired. An iPhone was a cheaper upgrade so I made the switch. As usual, I've made a goof out of myself with it already. It's got a nice tilting function that rotates left and right; I thought the phone was messed up within five minutes of having it ... all because I unknowingly had the phone upside down and couldn't figure out why the screen stayed sideways. I'm a danger to society.

This thing has got a pretty sweet spelling "guesser" though. Looking back at some of the words I've typed takes me back to the days of Pamy & trying to help her decipher her own notes. For instance "fosb" = down; "nudt" = just. Yeah, you might not get the humor in this that I do; it's an inside joke.

I can utube, which April loves ... and yet hates. She doesn't get the same results when searching for videos to show me as when surfing on her laptop and therefore gets frustrated. I have full Internet access again, which I LOVE. I can give my thumbs a rest by laying the phone on a flat surface and allowing my index finger to flick about in super speed fashion, which it does well :)
details withheld. Dad, bet your wishing you had laid off this post. One day you'll learn, but probably not!

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

April and I are sitting at Deer Park tonight; me enjoying my pint of Pabst and her sipping a glass of wine. Yes! I'm not lying, she's sipping wine! We don't get together as much as we were for awhile. My broken foot, lack of license, and the colder months have slowed us down. Tonight refreshed our youthfulness.

While I lost myself in the intoxicating cologne of the oh-too-gorgeous waiter, she leaned surreptiously out of the booth to check him out in passing, and we both giggled like school girls. We played swords with the little plastic oliver skewers until I shattered hers with a downward blow that left her open mouthed for a split second & then pouty faced for the next 30. Mr Gorgeous brought her another sword & play time continued.

As usual, the men conversation lead to both of us lamenting that neither of us finds ourselves cute or attractive in anyway. She tries to lift my spirits by stating that I "go together" beautifully. I disdainfully whip my hand in a circle in front of my face then run my hands thru my hair flipping it erractically in every direction saying "this, this does not go together. This is a mess". She wrinkles her nose stating, "well not like that. Don't do that. That makes you look silly."

So I recant, to someone who is barely a buck ten and doesn't have to worry about hiding the lower 60 roll, that her petite-ness, intelligences, and deep blue eyes are quite an intimidating
combination to most men. She pouts for a moment before bursting, "you have such smooth skin!" and we burst into giggles again at the randomness of our 'arguements'.

There can be no winner in this conversation. Self esteem cannot be obtained with a perfect margarita & an endless supply of friend time, but it sure makes for a fun story, laughs, and memories like no others.

Sent from my iPhone

mind changing

I'm in love with you, don't get me wrong. The issue is, I haven't found you. You exist in my head. There have been times that I thought I found you. Laying by your side, your arms wrapped in mine, I thought for a moment it could be you. Watching your smile from across the table as butterflies turned my stomach into a whirlwind of emotion; feeling your eyes on me as I walk across the street to you; letting my senses take you in as we walk side by side so many times... each moment thinking it could be you. Convinced. Wanting.

Wanting too much? Wanting more than was there, obviously, yet I did not see.

Gulping down emotion. Waiting breathlessly. Afraid to make the wrong move. Every move was wrong. I was incorrect from the start. As I have always been.

to W.C.

What you want to know:

That when I close my eyes it's you I want to open them and see; it's you that I see when my eyes are still closed. That it drives me insane -- I run for miles with the loudest music I can force through the head phones streaming through my ear piece, drowning out any thoughts, draining my emotions completely. That I bike ride for hours on end, pushing my legs and chest to the point beyond exhaustion, just to fall into my bed hoping for a peace that never comes.

That I remember the oddest things about our walks and talks: chasing rabbits, catching squirrels, the smell of skunks, skateboarding and even laughing about mopeds in the rain. Looking at you smiling about random jokes. Watching your face light up with your boys.

You want to know how I lay in bed and remember you beside me, holding my hand, skin burning skin. What you don't know is how much I regret that night. How I wish I hadn't drank & been so miserable.

That I can't be near you without wanting your lips on mine. How I struggle to let go of you when my arms are around you, even though I try to convince myself otherwise. That I can't stand thinking about you, because your with someone else. That I'm only good enough for you when you don't have someone else.

That I'm in love with you, and I hate it, and I don't even know who you are, really.

What I hate even more is that you won't even give me that honesty.

What else do you want to know? I'll tell you.

cause of my demise

It's pretty safe to say that I don't always put the greatest (or any) amount of thought into the actions I take. Just like the movie Yes Man, I don't say no to many things. If I don't have a good solid reason to say no, then I'll do whatever pops to mind. Obviously, my version of a good solid reason differs greatly from a large portion of the world. Hence you have a picture of me skateboarding barefoot.

On a whim a few weekends ago, April & I purchased skateboards & set out to give it our best shot. Night one left me bruised and sore, but still rearing for action. The end of week one found me in the ER wondering if my foot was broken. I did learn my lesson from the first night - skateboarding barefoot quickly leads to road rash on the underside of the foot. OUCH.

Equipped with tennis shoes on the next outing, no major injuries occurred, but the muscles in my feet were screaming at me to find another alternative to the sneakers. Something just wasn't cutting it. Fooling around in the street in front of my house, I ran inside to change into the only pair of flats that I could think of ... the brown sparklies.

I really can't answer if it were the shoes or just my natural klutziness, but I've been sporting the Frodo Baggins / Quasimodo look to my right foot for just over a week now. I'm not so fond of it myself.

I can't walk, jog, bike ride, or any activity that normally de-stresses me. I'm about to explode!! Crutches ... Not my thing. Between dislocating my shoulders & bruising the palms of my hands, I'd prefer not to even venture off to relieve myself. Gah! Torturous metal sticks!

Last Saturday I spent the day relaxing with my kids, which we usually do at a park or two. We opted for the local library where I gimped around perusing the shelves and slouching in a chair to read for most of the afternoon.

The "highlight" of the day was being drafted into a Rock Band contest ... as a vocalist. My teammates were all under the age of 10. The worst part was the pip squeak behind me who had the guts the blurt, "man, their singer sucks" right in the middle of my rendition of Paramore's "That's What You Get". Big Paramore fan here; don't like that song. I shot him the evil look & determinedly stepped up my game. We scored 3rd place but I didn't stick around for the rewards.

The good news of the week:
* I can now walk around without crutches - for short spurts - at an unbelievably s..l...o.....w pace. I'm getting there.

* I've moved out of the Addam's family residence. My stress level dropped so drastically I think I may be have gone into mental shock.

That's pretty much the only good news I can muster up right now for the week, but it's only Tuesday!

update on misfortune

The crutches are killing me, and apparently I've grown 2 inches since my Sophomore year of high school. I told the nurse I'm 5'6", as I have been telling everyone for the last 12 years, but my crutches indicate otherwise. For three days I hobbled with them set at 5'6" before finally giving in to adjust them an inch -- moved the setting to 5'7". That wasn't exactly comfortable either; the next day I bumped 'em up one more to 5'8" and PRESTO! Comfort zone.

Bruising has travelled throughout my foot & lower leg which I find amazing because I didn't hit anything. I didn't crash. I just stepped backwards and downwards ... POOF ... I crumbled into a lil heap wondering what in the (H E double hockey sticks) just cracked and WHY.

The swelling has relenquished a tiny bit this morning. Maybe recovery is on it's way??

el primero

I wish I could that say it doesn't matter; but the fact is that it does.

I want to think that I don't care; that's just not the truth.

I want to cry, but not shed a tear.

The release ....
I feel so selfish for wanting the release.

Close my eyes
and breath slips peacefully away
the struggle ...
Gone.