From Wanderer

unfinished

agitation is deep/ unseated it’s not safe/ not the kind of agitation/ the agitation you/ can control/ an agitated agitation stirring up riot within/ for what?/ you’re not exactly sure/ But you’re determined/ to keep striking out/ hitting harder to hit deeper/ going wider instead of deeper/ shallow cove of thoughts unfinished/ like everything else in your life/
love you had the last time/ you loved for the last time/ you’ve been loved before and loved after/ but only daring to fall once/ jumping and deciding/ don’t down/ it’s fine/ that’s best and usually only way that it – love – is done… cutting too deep/ sending you, too far

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Descovering Ska

The discovery of Ska in a world that doesn’t know what it’s talking about.

We’re bobbing we’re grooving in a legit dive bar, and what i mean by that kids is that when you order a coke with a shot of whiskey you get a whiskey with a drop of coke, all for three dollars though so drink up kids we’re getting drunk.

the picture on the wall is changing colors molting into something it wasn’t before and wouldn’t be a moment later.

“It’s the lines of perspective. Which side looks closer to you? The light side or the darker side?”

“… The darker”

“Really? Because it should be the lighter…”

“Oh yeah… I’m seeing it. I’m seeing it. … Woah.”

There’s a guy up there with a curled mustache that he’s meticulously waxed. He’s been going out to the car to check it and re-wax it since we got here. He was the first person i saw. I asked from the back of the car if we knew him. “Do we know him?” no one heard me but Jamie rolls down the window pulls up slow and they start talking, about i don’t remember because i’d taken a big hit off Rina’s new pin when we stopped by her place to pick her up. Probably took too big of a hit but is there such a thing naw.

Now the guy in the middle, a younger Claude Monet type guy with his shock white beard and subtle plaid green golfer cap on, he belongs among the lilies, and he’s shorter than me which isn’t a big deal for man nor woman since i’m five-ten. He begins singing in another language. A language of the beach. I’m so high I no longer understand english. I turn to Rina after a few beats and ask “Are they singing in English?” because like any experienced stoner; I know that when things seem weird the first thing to do is check in with another to see what their reality holds that’s different than my own. “No. He’s just making things up.” “What?” “He’s not singing in any language.” The confusion on my face remains. “He’s not singing words. He’s just making up words and sounds.” Eye widen. Mouth forms ‘O.’ Rina’s laughing. I turn back towards the stage. *what is happening what is happening* Stun gunned down by the men singing in tongues.

I throw my hands up and let the music take me letting out haphazard laughs Rina and Jamie are ahead of me they turn and look back at me later, later Rina tells me, “I love your face” “Quel?” “It’s so honest. You express genuine wonder. Unlike Jamie and I. We’re just dead in side and make snide jokes.”

people tell me that…

Special Thanks to: Jamie – for getting Rina and I to go out, Monkey – for being my first and raddest Ska band, and Claude Monet – for the water lilies.

How Alone They Are

i wanna run until my body withers away

until the ache in my soul goes away

until the pain in my somache is gone

until the muscel spasms stop

until my heart ceases to be

until i’m no longer me

they don’t tell you this, but sometimes all you can do is run. it’s not an act of shame yes it is a loss of control but it’s a loss of something greater the loss of believing that those around you will understand and accept you for who and where you are.

when you’ve done all you can do. to try and love them. to love them. to be there to be what they want to answer their “try me’s” when you say they won’t understand after staring blankly at them and their lies of ‘i understand’ followed by their own life story that has nothing to do with you and who you are and what you’re going through

that’s when you gotta run. it’s not a running away. it’s a getting to a physical space of what you know to spiritually be true. that you are alone and no one sees you. no one can help. and really, they don’t want to. don’t want you. want *you*

she’s not crazy

she’s just the only one who truly knows

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how alone they are

Spider

under a summermoon/ they meet/ toe to toe/ cheek to cheek/ banana spiders are yellow/ it’s true/ but burning love is the color for two/ and his is the hair of a summer breeze/ and hers are the eyes longing to be free/ the carcasses lay all around/ but into her his love he pounds/ physical restraints are useless/ when his is the soul she runs to/ she misses/ small is the time and space before/ together eternal forevermore/ enough is the feeling she holds when held/ wild satisfaction she gives him fulfilled/ together at their base the world stretches/ time disappears when they’re intermeshing/ his are the eyes of the purest blue/ when she fell into them he smiled/ he knew

~Pour Mon Amour

thanks and credit to those who came before… Shakespeare, Poe, and Debbie; naturally.
As always, special thanks to my true love and ever faithful; SummerMoon.

 

Question, Man

I glance back at the sound of footsteps. There’s a man approaching rapidly from behind me. I just got off the bus, and I’m assuming he did too.
“Hey where’s your accent from.” Dear Lord he’s daned to talk to me. As they say in the office – he’s being straightforward to – but his dick is definitely sideways in his pants because … well room… and “Texas” “Oh man. Are you going home to your boyfriend?” “Yes.” “A, that makes sense I bet you’ve got two boyfriends.” “nope.” “Do you drink?” “I’m more of a smoker.” “Oh that’s nice. Have you got weed on you now?” narrows eyes 7/11 approaching up ahead… he turns off. “Well if your boyfriend every messes up I’ve got a name and a number.” i’m sure you do “I’ve never done a texas girl before” #goals.

“You know what makes it so hard? That you’re so pretty Monkey. If you weren’t so pretty this would be a lot easier.”
After every what is supposed to be a one night stand then a leave me alone… this is why sex isn’t worth it… they always want more… always want to commit. like fuck off buddy.
“Okay, what I’m hearing is that you just were horny and that’s why you had sex with me. Is that right?” “Yep.” “So you’re a lier. Everything you said about how you like being with me and want to be with me forever when we were wasted and fucking on the couch is a lie?”
am I the only one who sees the gap in the logic here?

I’m ‘reading’ I am Legend right now… or I’m carrying it around with me and trying to be motivated to read it… but it really annoys me that there are literally no female characters except for the female vampires that he completely sexualizes and experiments on. like fuck this man.

Helaughsatmywar

I am at war. A greater war then the one within myself wages all around me. I go into the kitchen, I walk to the sink, I turn on the sink, and the war rages around me. The struggle of keeping food down when flies are swarming around the room at a dizzying rate – I watch two of them fucking on the fruit fly trap – ON not IN – just casually fucking on top of it – a literal ‘fuck you’ from the fruit flies – and that’s why I know this is war.
>they’re breeding but I am one – a one-woman insane hand clapper against the mob – I jump around clapping my hands at them desperate to catch them in between – nothing but complete annihilation will satisfy me.
>He’s laughing at me again. I know he is. “Is this what it means to support yourself as a woman?” Saying goodbye to him was the best decision I made – best choice I made last year… now if only to get rid of the flies… the mold will have to wait.

really though… what am I going to do with the above quote? Nothing… just take up space… basically life right there… nothing… just take up space. I take up space, therefore I am. trying to take up less and less…

 

 

forwalkingaway

Bootsweremadeforwalkinganywayyouseeandoneofthesedaysnotgoingtoletyourbootswalkalloverme

/* I got up and left. I quit. Sent him my polite little resignation and excused myself. Thanked him for the opportunity and as I walked out; flames. */

She was wearing a white dress. Behind her they stare watching, or at least she pretends they do, she’s not turning back to check, not turning back at all. She throws the forms in the recycling ben, won’t be needing those anymore, won’t be getting no special health plan, how much health coverage covers standing up for yourself? Not much. Suck a dick dipshits. That’s what they said but in the singular and not with such ‘vulgar’ language. You see now I’m just going to buy you somethings and touch you in ways that make you feel uncomfortable. But just suck it down and put up with a brave smile – we’re paying you to smile after all
WELL NOT ENOUGH SHIT HEADS! EAT IT!
So with fingers blazing like the now iconic pocket cat, she storms on a silent wave across the wires severs connecting messages sending.
Won’t be seeing her around no more.

Cuz boots were made.

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