Its an, altogether, natural feeling. Something akin to breathing in how simple and normal it seems. A certain familiarity in everything entirely unfamiliar about it. Obviously, contradictory, yet there's a certain comfort in the unsure nature of the actions it triggers. It, takes hold of everything in your life, dominating it and weighing heavily on all the decisions one makes. Despite that, it provides comfort and shelter and protection from that which harms you.

What is it, however, is a much better question. It could be a thing. Mayhaps it is your home, or a country, or a hang out. Or, perhaps, it can be a person? A girl, a boy, a mother, a father, a baby, a wife, a husband. Or perhaps an action? Is it within dancing or music or running or breathing?

For me, it is simple, lying within the heart of a petite woman who's overly concious and thoughtful.

All I want is something small. Nothing big. I don't want sex, I don't want gifts, I don't want some elaborate surprise or you to remember everything all the time. I don't want you to be unhappy.
All I want is for you to spend a little bit of time with me again. Its been awhile and I'd really appreciate it. Lets get together and make a big dinner. Some noodles and a nice sauce, maybe some french bread and an appetizer to snack on while we cook and snuggle around the kitchen with gourmet hot chocolate filled with marshmallows, all while decorating a tree and talking about christmas. Something nice from the old days.
Go ahead and be upset, but just know that's all I'm asking. That's what I want.

I have to sort this all out. I'm nervous. I tried to sleep today and managed to finally pull it off...only to be interrupted by my father yelling at my brother.
Inside my room.
No respect.
Either way, I'm awake now. I've done my work, and tomorrow is supposed to be a very big day for me. I'm shaking in my boots.
I'm afraid, I have to have a conversation with a man who's only offered me a half-smile and a stern look at the best of times. I understand he's stoic. I trust that he likes me. I believe that he'll listen to me.
I'm still absolutely terrified by the concept of talking one on one with him.
I just have some internal feeling which tells me that there is no reason good enough that would have him let you go. Despite that fear, I'm still obviously going to try. I'm just antsy. I can already feel my skin crawling underneath his gaze, begging me to be quick and kurt. Begging me to flee and let it be.
I can already picture the look I'll get for the conversation.
His face will maintain that rigid demeanor, lips set in a thin line very likely pressed together slightly. His eyes will sit behind his glasses, stern and discerning and maybe, secretly, enjoying the way I squirm from intimidation. Perhaps he'll be sitting up straight, just looking, fingers laced together in his laps and elbows squared on arm rests. Perhaps he'll lean back, setting one hand to his chin as he listens.
Either way, he'll likely ask me some kind of a question. He'll say something or discourage me.


I'm most afraid however, that he might say something exactly like my father. Say its too soon or that I won't be able to do it right because I'm too young still. I don't know. I'm just worried.


But I'm going to do it. I'm in love with you, with Devon.
Which brings me to what I was going to write tonight in the first place.

I'm not worried about losing you. I'm not worried about being cheated on. I'm not worried about other people ruining our relationship. I don't worry about these things for more reasons than your personal virtue and moral code. It extends into a part of my ownself whom I trust. And who can you trust more than yourself? If you cannot trust yourself, you can trust no one.
However, that is not for this discussion.
No, I'm not worried because I know why love is the way it is. I know why you love me.
Love has something to do with finding people you can be with, but that is only the first part. If you enjoy being around someone, they're a friend. If you try to date and love those people, you are likely to find certain things absent in the relationship; this isn't always true, but you're more likely to find these friendship qualities in a wide variety of people. Love, however, comes from someone who you enjoy being with, not just because you like them, or tolerate them...
You love someone when you find a person who is happy with who you are, who you want to be, who you might be, who you wish you could be. Love is someone who you wish to be better for, even though they think you're fine the way you already are. Love happens when you find a person you're proud of because of who they are; someone you love even in dark hours of your relationship.
I love Devon. Her favorite color lies somewhere between Spring and Fall, but she'll tell you it is teal. She loves Yellow and Orange and certain shades of Brown as well. She aspires to be a chef, not nesscessarily someone notable, although she'd like to be on Food Network if the opportunity arises; she would gladly settle with cooking in a larger, finer, kitchen one day. In the end, she wants to own a bakery and cake shop because she loves cakes. Her favorite season is the late Spring because of all the flowers, and she wants to have a garden in her backyard one day so she can enjoy Spring from her windowsill every morning. Her favorite tree is the Willow. Like myself, she's an italian food lover. She enjoys spontaneous changes in her day and often finds herself hanging out with people who, unlike herself, do not plan things extensively so that she can find an escape from work. She's eager to be married, and dreams of raising a family with at least two children. She wants to travel one day, especially to Greece and Eastern Europe because that is her favorite place in the world. As a result, one of her favorite movies is Mamma Mia, simply because it takes place in Greece. However, her all time favorite is Tank Girl, or perhaps Underworld; She's not even sure which is her favorite anymore. No matter what she says at the time, her favorite actress is Kate Beckingsale, she always comes back to that when asked.
I love her because she's outspoken, honest, and more than willing to disagree with me. Sometimes it takes a bit more coaxing to get her opinion on personal issues and concerns, but in the end she is much like myself in that she would rather discuss it then leave it to fester in the closet. She's an honest person who truly believes in me and supports me in all the roads I take. She's level-headed, often grounding my excessive dreaming and spending, although she usually has a hard time stopping me from spoiling her. She makes sure to keep up with my issues and is amazingly understanding and intelligent. I've always been hard-pressed to find an intellectual equal among women for conversation, being as media has popularized stupidity in the female population. Devon is not above challenging me, not to mention she often corrects me which, albeit annoys the hell out of me, is one of the reasons I love her to death. The fact that she has been willing to give ground in some arguements, and take it in others reassures me that we will never have an empty one-sided relationship.
All in all, I find it hard to describe everything at once. More and more every day, I find it impossible to think of life without her. I can go months without seeing her, but I would like to be able to write her letters, and be cute with her...and all manner of other things.

I'm still nervous.

To Devon,
We haven't written to each other in awhile. I know it is because we've been busier and life has been coming at us in whole new ways. I know it is because we're trying to save our words for letters that will travel in the mail. First Class, next day delivery letters that will come soon enough. I know it is because of whatever reason that has presented itself.
I wanted to write something for you that was like that peice I'd written to you about your eyes. I know it is still hiding somewhere, I know this because you told me you stashed it somewhere that you wouldn't ever lose it. I wanted to write you something like that one song I wrote you which escapes me when I wrote to you. I wanted to write something to you that would remind you of all the things I wrote to you when we started dating so that you would read this and smile at the way things were again, for just a moment.
I say that last sentence as if things are changing and we're losing each other. The reality is far from that. I believe in some ways we've come to a more realistic concept of each other. I believe we're more in touch with the other than we could have ever boasted back in those infatuitious days. I believe that, in many ways, we're more in love now then we were then. It is logical and practical and I truly believe it.
I've given you all manner of my secrets and as more and more things arise to me at the moment, I try to make sure to tell you of them. I want you to know every facet of me as I learn each thing about myself. Most of these things are spur of the moment realizations. Like the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. I have no idea if I've told you that story yet. If I told you how my brother held me as I curled up shivering in my bed crying in his arms. I don't think I have, I plan to tell you tomorrow...or another day.
I would definitely tell you tomorrow, but I'm worried that it will upset you or become the focus of the day. If I only get to see you for around 2 hours, I don't want to spend it dwelling on that moment. The longest moment of my life, yes, but I still don't want to spend 2 hours thinking about it. No, I'd rather spend it with you.
I don't care if we have sex Devon. I know sometimes it worries you because I seem very pursuant and a lot of the arguements and rough waters we have occur around sex. I want to remind you that I am usually expressing my standing or personal...whatever (I can't think of a suitable word)...concerning solely sex. It may simply be THAT moment, usually it is. Overall, and more often then not, you deliver sex that I find to be the envy of any woman I've ever been with in a sexual manner. You are #1 in all aspects you've indulged in with me. Hands down. My only wish is that I would provide better sex for you...and that I didn't make you sore.
You are my favorite person to talk to, well perhaps you and Gloria. However, I would prefer talking to you over Gloria only because I can express an emotional conversation with you...Gloria really only has intelligent conversations with me...or asks for advice. You, on the other hand, Have intelligent conversations with me and offer emotional support as well as ask for advice. I only compare you to Gloria because...conversationally and topically, she is the only person who is anywhere NEAR you in the conversational aspect. Justen doesn't hold a candle to some of the conversations Gloria and I have had. In comparison...Gloria is hardly a match to the rampant flame you are. I just figured you wouldn't take my word for it on this topic unless I used an example of someone else I talk to. Once again, I can't stress how important a conversation is for me.
I'm glad I met you. I'm glad that we met in a way that exceeded, "Oh, he's cute. Oh, flattery and flirtations. Oh, lets date so we have an excuse to hook up. Oh, wow you're an interesting person too!" No, the way we met was perhaps the farthest from that. It started as a sort of concerned, estranged friendship. The interest in each other's characters and strength of will arose first. Then, after some soul searching and a little fire-side talk time...we decided to try a relationship.
I'm happy that, since day 1, we've done nothing but take the relationship seriously and at a reasonable pace for the both of us. I'm happy that we've managed to come to where we are now. I'm happy to be with you now, and I was happy to be with you then.
I want you to know that I will be happy to be with you tomorrow as well, and I want you to never forget that.
Never forget that I love you. That I would pick you again a hundred times over.
Never forget that I'm slowly starting to make this an extremely mushy internet-blog-letter-thing.
Or that I'm an asshole. That one is important too.
I love you Devon.

-Zack

Fine.
Have fun at the beach.

I'm magic, did you know that?

I can take the best of things, at the best of times, during the best of situations...

And destroy whatever was holding it all up.

It only takes me 5 minutes.

FML

He frowned a little, always an awkward way of entering concentration as he reached slowly across the tiny gap between them. It was like walking on water, as if there was something blocking him as he reached slowly across with both hands, the points fingers outstretched vigilantly. He placed the tip of each finger on opposite ends of her lips. Softly, he pushed them upwards as he feebly tried to make her smile.

She'd always done it to him when he was unhappy.

I taste like failure and exhaustion.
Tomorrow I am speaking to Tera about being trained in the Customer Service Desk and the Lottery stuff.
Perhaps I will feel more fulfilled that way.

To satisfy some of my Zombie Madness...

I have decided to pool some of my money for getting an Xbox 360 sometime in the VERY near future.

FUCK THE WEEKEND FUCK IT

This is a disappointing week.

Monday was stolen, everything I planned went to hell in all kinds of ways.
Tuesday was a shitty work day.
Wednesday was like Monday, only I had nothing planned and so I did nothing.
Thursday was full of hunger pangs and migraines.
Friday heralded the start of a fight and shot Saturday in the foot.

I wish I could be more disappointed about it all.
I'm just mad she doesn't want to talk to me right now.

Baby baby can't you see, I'm just trying to live freely.
Hold onto my kite, don't let me touch the ground.

Take a breath my dear, don't rush into everything.
Take her out to coffee, or tea, or shopping.
Have a girls day, just you and her.
Find a way to pull her away from everyone else and have a girl day.
Then just tell her, randomly or something on the ride there.

Your family seems far more understanding than mine, and that is what worked for me.

Except...it was pimple popping in the bathroom...but that's not the point.

Because

I can.
Do I need any other reason to love you?

Does it make me shallow...to connect with a Starbucks coffee cup?

The Way I See It # 76, A quote by Anne Morriss, a Starbucks customer

The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating - in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier in your life.


I liked the quote. I connected.
So how deep does that make me?

I don't care where we are in our relationship right now.
I'm not too concerned where we might be going at the moment.
All I know is that tomorrow is another chance for me to spend one more moment of my place in forever with you.
And yesterday I danced to Bubbly with you.
Everytime I hear it on the radio, I smile.

I miss your kisses.
I miss making out.
I miss kitchen dancing.
I miss mac'n'cheese cuddles.
I miss your summer clothes.
I miss your coy grin when it is you who wants me. (Usually I get you before I can get that grin)
I miss your soft hands.
I miss Salt'n'Vinegar chips.
I miss being pulled aside.
I miss sleeping on your shoulder.
I miss the beach towels.
I miss the sunrise and pancakes and eggs for breakfast.




I still remember your favorite game.

So she sleeps.
She always looks so peaceful when she sleeps, curled against me breathing softly at my neck, entirely unaware how aroused the tingly warmth makes me.
She always sounds so peaceful as well, as if she has finally given herself a break, taken a moment of time to recooperate from all the personal hardships she places upon herself.

I was happy. I saw her old smile come back today. It was the best present.

it is my birthday and I am spending it with my girlfriend. yay fun

Frrom my gf's computer

I like Cake. The food and the band.
One is delicious. The other is almost timelessly hip.

It is nice.

The girlfriend is power napping because she has burnt herself out...over and over and over.
Poor thing.
I hope she feels better after the nap.
I am going to go back to her now.
bye.

If I threw my guitar out the window, so far down.
Would I start to regret it, or would I smile and watch it slowly fall?
As Frank Sinatra sings Stormy Weather the flies and spiders get along together.
Well sheep go to heaven and goats go to hell, and Satan is my motor.
I'm commisioning a symphony in C because...
I am an opera singer.

Tonight, I wrote for you.
Tomorrow, I am picking up a third journal.
One day, I will give them all to you.
Until then, I hope the suspense keeps you coming back to me.

I am joining the military.
I will take my asvab soon.
Then it is off to bootcamp next year...or so.
Such a long waiting line.

My girlfriend is concerned about honesty should I leave for a time.
I once worried about that after I realized how much I love this woman who I have found myself with.
At that moment I took the oath I'd made to myself to a new level.

Never shall I drink, for fear I might find myself one morning in the bed of some other woman or even in the arms of her during the same night.
The drugs can have someone else, for I shall not let myself commit myself to them and not this woman I love.

No distance, no time, and nothing else I can think of to date has the power to sway me from this course save the woman in question leaving me, or me leaving her. Both are about as likely as me spontaneously turning into a penguin with bear paws and a beaver tail.

I understand your fear, but I can say that you need not worry about me. If you are willing to stay with me, and you love me...

Well, if you truly love me...

Any mistake can be forgiven my dear.

Even the ones you haven't commited yet. The ones you will never commit. And the ones you fear you might or could commit.

And my dear, I already have forgiven anything you could do so long as you still love me.

Today, I worked for several hours. I missed out on a gorgeous beach day. I played some mean, and crappy, pool games.
I bought flowers which just didn't seem to cut it since I forgot the note. I spent a few minutes with my girlfriend. I was given a couple of shirts and a belt.
I smell like smoke. I taste like smoke. I am eating cookies because everyone else is asleep. The cookies do not taste like smoke.
I have pool chalk and the like all over my hands and I wish I had some milk for my cookies.
I plan to do some dishes and see the beach today with my new friend, my best friend, and my old best friend. As well as their associated women.
Some may show up, some may not.
I don't have a dime to my name for my wallet.

Frankly, life could only be better if I was able to crawl upstairs and share the covers with my lover who would likely already be fast asleep.

Right now I am going to brew some coffee and do some dishes to compensate for that hour we lost a little while ago.
Hopefully, today will be a good day.

I have my birthday off.
I didn't request it off.
I'm kind of secretly happy about that.

For the two most important people to me...

My dear, I could spend years away from you and I would still write you letters every week, every day, every time I had something to say I would send it all to you.
I love you...and it is driving me crazy that I never feel like I express it enough.

My friend, you have some of your dreams coming true around you and with it, sacrifices.
Take hold of your destiny and hold of that which you love and venture forth with no fear as to the consequences that shall take hold. Should love prove true, you will persevere. As a fortune cookie once told me, "Courage is not the absence of fear, it is conquering it." So, fear nothing, fear no one, and most of all, stand tall. No matter the distance, you may always send me a letter, an e-mail, or give me a call. I will do everything I can to help you out. I know that, being as it is, you will be leaving and this is both exciting and stressful to you for so many reasons.
However, when you read this, I hope you know that I would go as far as needed to ensure everything works out for you.

I...feel tired.

I work hard. I work harder. People are helping me, lots of people.
All kinds of people.
I work a lot, I work more than anyone. Yet...
It seems hard sometimes to get out of bed in the morning.
I sometimes feel as if the days are getting longer and I'm getting older,
and nothing good is coming of it.

I was given a note today. I held onto it and didn't read it until the very end of work.
You know, because I wasn't going to get to see my girlfriend today.
It made me smile a little.
Now I sit here, watching the computer screen phase in and out before my eyes, and it occurs to me that I am tired but not tired at the same time.
I miss the way she used to be able to hold me for hours at a time.
Those hours seem... so far away now.
I don't mind though, they are memories well spent.
I wouldn't spend them any other way with any other person.

I know you're a a party where things aren't kosher...
A part of my is constantly afraid, the part of me that is making my stomach turn over right now, is worried you will take a try and get lost with someone interesting for just a night.
Another part of me, the part of me that chuckled when you told me, hopes you take a shot at it and see what it is all about.
The first one is worried and jealous that someone else is getting to be with you.
The other part of me knows you'll hate the lack of control and trusts that you're his anyways.

Days like this, I wish I was as confident as that part of me always seems to be...
I might make it through my life a bit easier...

My little chef, think you can cook me something nice to settle the nerves that make my cheeks go red everytime you hide your blushing face? Can you give me another chance to try and help you in that big kitchen you have planned out in your future where you plan to make dinner for that beautiful little family you hope to have one day? I think I would like to be around in your kitchen.
Someone needs to do the dishes when you're done.

reminded me of you (Angles and Errors by Park)

There's a selfless soul I'm seeking

One that wants nothing, just look after me

Such is a seldom seed, planted far from the sun

And full of hope, she's not yet gone

Well lift your sleeves

So bare they might see

Your angles and errors

Arms that have shared you

With every heart etched in your skin

I'm so sorry

I'm so sorry, for who I am

If such a pillowed hand worth holding

Staggers into palms which are running

Take a taste to be taken away I do believe

Centerfold, now to complete

Can someone be

More of a mother to me?

Discern out my thoughts

Correct all my verses

Show me I'm wanted every night

I'm so sorry

I'm so sorry, for who I am

It's such a sad eclipse, fired sure as a bullet

Such a tatter, on a chest that will not happen

I take a chance, to be taken away a

And suddenly fall back into place

I'm so sorry (everyday now it's true)

I'm so sorry (everyday now it's true)

I'm so sorry (everyday now it's true)

I'm so sorry (everyday now)

I'm so sorry

I'm so sorry

I'm so sorry, for who I am

The saddest thing I've ever seen was nothing more than a simple dream,
Lost forever, wrapped in my sheets, I watched the window endlessly.
The moon hung deftly, wrapped in night and dancing with the stars,
A tiny melody, stuck in my head, was playing forever for me.
Yet I was afraid of the dark, so I watched the clock restless,
And hours flew by, and morning came, but the moon watched onwards, relentless.




On a side note, "Little Motel" by Modest Mouse has a very sad music video.

There she sat, curled up with her face pressed against her knees in the dim, almost eerie light of the bathroom. Although I couldn't see her face when she finally let me in, I felt as f I understood the emotion which had eluded her. I felt as if I knew what it was on her mind.
She, firstly, had no idea what she felt. Was it good or bad or uncomfortable? The simple lack of knowledge of it left her appalled and emotionally unbalanced. At that moment, she wanted to cry. More importantly, she wanted a reason to cry. Or at least a reason to not cry so she could scold herself for crying senselessly. Instead, there was nothing. Instead, she could find no feeling at all, no emotion to describe and no cause for her actions save some tingle which had made her act as she had.
There I was, confused and disturbed by that thought. At a loss for words as I knew not how to help her. I felt my stomach turn at my helplessness and the weight of the world seemed to crash upon me as I was lost, unable to help her. I couldn't help her stop crying because she wasn't crying. I couldn't help her hate me, or stop hating me, because she didn't feel either of those. I could relieve discomfort, because she was so oddly between comfort and discomfort that there was nothing I could do. Quite simply, I was powerless.
And it scared me.
Why must the girl I love be so far from my reach even when she is right beside me?

I don't know why I didn't...
because I even jump down my family's throat when they say anything possibly negative about you...
So why I didn't do it to him...
I don't know.
I'm ashamed at the spineless nature of the act.

No coffee, no cookies, no food, no devonzacktime, no devontime whatsoever, no KFC.
Lots of bitching, lots of work, and lots of my family.


Fuck today. Just...

FUCK

This morning.
I woke up, skipped coffee (which I made fresh) and took shannon to school.
It was cold.
Then I came back, got mother coffee, sean breakfast, and then warmed up the prius.
Still pretty cold.
Came inside, saw them off, ran the stairs.
I was hungry.
Didn't know what to eat, didn't really care to eat at that time, so I skipped that too.
I was pretty hot.
Ran the stairs more, tried to play some games but mother discouraged it.
I drank some water.
Caffiene jitters started, so I drowned it out by working with the rower in my room (soon to be sean's).
Now I was sweating.
Watched Ocean's 13, then around 10:45 I decided I was hungry and needing caffiene.
So I showered.
The works, all with a shave, a good teethbrushing, and even some lotion.
Then I went downstairs.
Now I'm writing because I know soon I will be picking up both of my brothers from school before I leave the house for the night.
They will both be ungrateful.

You think with the hot shower, and all the working out...

I'm...hungry...

and in the winter, I find you as more than just a girl. I find you as more than simply a lover. I see you as more than just my everything.
You become my warmth. In every passing moment I search for a way to wrap myself in you and chase off these chilled moments. To force this terrible freeze to be little more than a fleeting draft.
I apologize for drawing closer, hands locked tightly with intertwined fingers which press my palms against your lower back so that I might overcome that awkward skinniness in myself and your unique back arch. Pardon the way I react to your almost heady scent when it forces its way into my mind and clouds every sense which I own. Excuse me if I wish nothing more than to press myself tighter into you during these cold days.
At least my passion is not dampened by the chill. At least I am not cold towards you.
Oh no, I strive to bring you warmth as well, come share yourself with me.

RP character development

His left foot hung over the edge of the high rise, dangling precariously as if they were the very thoughts which threatened to leap from his mind and into the abyss of forgetting. That empty sort of place where all things you lose seem to drift too when you're not paying attention. Such simple things like her name, the color of the sky, the list of things he might need to bring home from the store, his bills, and the way home. Superfluous things always seemed to slide into that void when he wasn't paying close attention to them.
His brown hair hung lazily into his eyes, swaying softly in the breeze that only reached the roof he'd chosen to perch on this afternoon. Behind his bangs, soft brown eyes stared complacently towards the sky, searching for the clouds that wouldn't grace the sky on this cloudless day, lost in empty thought. The kind of thought which has no goal, no start, and no topic; the kind of thought which facilitated his forgetting. Let him wander lazily into an unknown place far beyond his realization. A place where he could be God, Hero, and Villain as well. He could do whatever he wanted. It was like being a writer, an artist, and a mastermind all at once. He could create anything.
Imagination was so beautiful.

((J, I think I am going to make this a 2 fold RP...you would like it. One set here in the material world and the other set somewhere else, the imagination...but somehow the worlds both characters drift too can be intertwined somehow.))

When I dream tonight, I will find myself in your arms.
When I wake, it will only be cold and lonely.

This morning, I heard birds as I sat up, pensively going over the speech I will be giving my parents before I leave.

for a single moment, the only things I could think of were sparrows, how far off a good night's sleep felt,

and what an amazing feeling it would be if I were married to you and had instead woken up beside you this morning.



I'm sorry I cried.

Bad omens, back with a vengeance.
The old school fighting revamped and seen in new lights.
Troubles are now bigger than ever.
Peril is now imminent in every turn.
Everything has been upgraded to something beyond that which it should have been in the first place.
Plans have been dashed.
Logic has been abandoned.
All out carnage.
At each others throats.
All in a days work among my family.

Yet, there you are waiting patiently for the dust to settle, come what will, come what may, waiting ever so patiently to see how I will turn out in the end.

Why must everything
transcend
Rise from the physical and become the emotional regardless of any attempts I make to be
vulgar and vile
Perhaps this is some kind of sign of a deeper meaning to my relationship. Finding something I truly can't
fuck up
By simply fucking up the usual way that I do and I guess it is kind of awkward and strange that I would test things in such a
quick
Way in the hopes of testing some horrid theory that is my biggest fear. Its nice to know that you're not after me now for the same reason
she
Was after we were together for awhile. It felt wrong with her something that was always
rushed
For the sake of having something to be claimed on her to do list. I was little more than the first
notch
On what might soon be a very large belt. Yet we haven't even gone that far and I already feel so
natural
Being close to you no matter what we're doing because you at least make the effort to be closer and more involved with
me
in my life and my interests. So there, take that past decisions and actions. At least you know that I always strive and try and focus on being
better
in every single way I can for you.

I wish I had inspiration.
The power to pull you from this foul mood funk.
An ability to entertain you.
To satisfy you in whatever way was needed.

He wanted us all to be what he called, "A man" but, even today, I haven't a clue what he meant. He had some form of scale he kept secret, perhaps imaginary, on how manly you were. No one, not even himself, could seem to achieve a manly enough status for his liking.
I hope he became a man when he died. It would be a real shame if he never lived up to his own expectations.

What is with all this blatent non-conformist socialite situational conformism that has gripped our society and demands us to shift our purposes towards some jaded concept of social awkardness and demand retribution, reform, and reward?
Ignorance makes my stomach turn.

Put your hands my face
Put your thumbs on my lips
Put your palms on my shoulders
Wrap your fingers around my wrists
Then let me hold your hands, it is where they belong.

Lean your head against
My shoulder
Then turn slowly with me
You can even stand on my feet.

Press your lips to my cheek
Where you can taste my smile forming
I promise I won't blush when you smile.

Tell me I'm handsome
It makes me feel better for dating such a beautiful girl.

Just amazing.

You are still labeling your blogs as 2008
You still say you're stuck in December
I wish it was still Christmas time too.

You said you couldn't find your little black dress
You wanted to wear it today but it was a waste of time to find it
I wore all black today so you could wear me instead, I hope it suffices.

I woke up at 6 today to drive my brother to school
I looked for your car the whole time I was there
I'm picking him up soon and I'll look for your car the whole time I'm waiting too.

If life were a sitcom, everyone would eventually find some kind of happy ending in the long run. Nearly everyone.
The bad guy would get it, or he'd become a good guy and reform. The good guy would get the girl (or good girl gets the guy) and they'd live happily ever after. The friends would all settle down eventually and find their nitches in life.

Then there would be people like me. The comedy relief in the darkest of hours. Willing to smile when everyone else is down. Willing to laugh when he's on his last string. The implacable grin that keeps the hero going to the bitter end.
Unfortunately, I also have to have the worst ending of all the heroes allies. If other friends die, so must I. If they don't die, I still might die. If they have the best possible things happen to them, I manage to make it somehow.

I hate sitcoms. And movies. Because I'm the comedic relief.
I'm screwed.

I believe Garfield had it right.

I believe that the answer to life is indeed somewhere to be found on the dinner table. Its not a box of chocolates, its not a plate of lasagna, and its not a ferrari (though how that constitutes something on the dinner table...you might want to sue someone) but I'm fairly certain you can find it at the dinner table. You can also find it on your street (maybe the ferrari is there?) or in your school, or your workplace, or your best friend. Maybe its in a pen you bought, or something you want, or on your bestfriend's wall. Maybe you already know it, or maybe its still out there waiting for you.

I believe, however, it is at my dinner table. I think this would be an important time to mention that I don't actually own a table of any kind at the moment. In fact, I hardly own anything but a job. Technically, that was given to me, so I don't own that either.
I also believe anyone can find their answer to life at the dinner table.

To some, the answer of life can be found in prayer. It lies within God and the salvation that shall come in your devotion to his, and his son's, words and teachings. Is not the cornerstone of nearly every dinner a prayer before the meal?
To others, the answer is in prosperity. It lies in success or at least the ability to provide for oneself, if not others. Is not dinner the one meal we all try to have, and usually, the largest of our meals in the day?
To some others still, it is about family. The dinner table, although not sacred, is still considered oe of the few remaining family times in modern society.

When I grow up, I know not what I want in a house, or how large my family should be. I don't know what I wish to do until I die or who I will spend the rest of my life with.
However, I want a dinner table large enough to share dinner with my family every night, or at least realistically once a week. Or on weekends. Or just weekdays.
I want to do that so that I may stay close to my family.
That way I don't turn out like my family.

Greatest Line Ever

About 2 hours into playing Final Fantasy 12 a character walks in during one of the cutscenes and speaks to the character you've been controlling for the past 2 hours.

Vaan: "Who are you?"
Balthier: "Me? Well I'm the leading man."

Yes, he sounds like James Bond, he looks a little like James Bond, and at the end of the game...
He's totally bad ass.

In the days that followed, so much happened that I found it hard to keep up with all the changes. We'd been thrust into a war that was beyond our skills and experences and with powers that were far beyond our understanding. The weapons of war were all about us, dripping with the blood of the millions each insturment had claimed, and we had no knowledge of their uses. Rubble up to our knees, we were entrenched in the horrors of a war we had unknowingly helped build. Yet we were so young. Some of us were only ten or twelve years old, hardly coming to grips with the deaths of our loved ones and parents. Blood paved every street in a sadistic image of the cruel onslaught that had played out only hours before we'd returned. Yes, we were mere children submersed in the quarrels of men. Boys who had wandered onto the proving grounds of heroes.

Few survived long enough to make it to cover.

I remember the glorious cries that echoed through the streets that day. Yes, I was amongst one of those who kept his head and managed to stay low when the gunfire started up. On my right was one who was not so lucky. I remember his name was Arthur, he was only fourteen at the time, his birthday was only a week or so ago at that. Still, they saw no difference in who they shot at. He cried out as blood burst from his shirt back, peppering the little girl behind him in a rather grotesque manner. She stood still, shocked, as he fell away and they opened up fire on her as well. I turned away, unable to watch such a horrid slaughter. Instead I turned my head to the teary eyes beside me, eyes that peered over bone white hands that dug into my shoulder fiercely. Arthur had been her brother, but now she had no one but me. Strangely, I didn't know her name.

I look back. Its a part of the way things are in my life. I enjoy looking back and appreciating where I've been and what has happened to make me who I am.
I enjoyed what came before and what got me to where I am.
But I enjoy where I am and who I'm with more than anything before.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I hope it brings more of you.

"I might not be the right time...it might not be the right one...
But there's something about us I want to say...
There's something between us anyways."

I go to you asking for nothing...
I walk away having everything...
I hope you feel the same at the end of the day.

I hate my neighborhood.
The sunset is blocked by the urban setting of our modern suburbia.
Nothing says beautiful like missing the best part of the sunset because of the rows and rows of 6 foot fences and two story houses in every direction.

I figured out now why everyone loves California.

I kind of like playing video games.
I kind of like playing them with you.

Dancing, slowly spiraling into an uncertain oblivion encompassed with nothing more than the greatest of ambitions and the most elaborate of emotions carrying you softly to the impact waiting below.

Still, I am dancing. I am dancing with you.

Let me crash, barreling into oblivion within the folds of your arms. Smothered eternally in the impatience of my whims and imagination. Be my dreamcatcher, tiny strings reaching out to catch the tiny strands of my spirit that leaks forth with every one of my outbursts of passion.

Spinning, slowly spiraling ever onwards into the unknown which comes with every waking moment with you.

My map has lost its way and left me in charge of finding the course. So now we wander aimlessly across the plains of your skin and the mountains of your mind in search of some meaning and destination within you where I can stay forever. Lusting constantly and finding no quenching river of sex or adulteration, no oasis of corruption and greed. Just a simple purity that is slowly being perverted to a much darker landscape as I measure and weigh every step of the land I travel.

Falling, slowly spiraling forever towards some clandestine place that pulls me constantly towards the innate way you please me without doing a thing.

No compass, who needs such things on a voyge into the subconcious way I am lost in your pride and passionate artistic yearnings. The way you kiss me so innocently and secretly want for me to make you as dirty as I am. You wish to play on my field and yet we still fight the urge. Like a white flower, hanging deftly by the last frayed edges of its stem over a glass of paint. The precipice calls undeniably to the fragile thing, so powerful in the way it resists, a futile action. My dear let me be that last string, but let me also be the paint. Let me hold you from temptation, but also let me mar you beyond repair.

Plummeting, slowly accelerating towards the imminent demise that awaits me when I land. Shall I find reason or madness below, none know but you.

Heart on the sleeve. A figure of speech for sure, wives' tale or such. Still, I find it so. My heart expanding so far that it has grown impossible to hold it within the confines of my ribs. Thus my arms have adjusted and my heart has grown from my shoulder, so that when you lean on me you might lean upon it and you shall truly be at one with my heart. That black, jagged, brutal thing that callously awaits your innocence like the bloody knife to the slaughtered lamb. Oh the irony in which religious sacrifice comes to mind when I think of possibly taking you. Both a resounding feeling of intense love and passion, as well as a horrid gaping feeling of cruel intentions and inevitable pain and sadness come to mind when I think of it.

My stomach turns over. The contents, nothing as it were, threatens to force itself upwards as I turn my face towards the dark descent below me, ready to be enveloped in its might.

Oh were such passionate kisses nothing but to be the death of me in some horrible self-depricating manner in which I draw you too me and feel the crushing guilt of stealing something that which can never be returned?

No, that is not so. Each kiss resonates with a passion unlike anything I've ever felt. It washes away all guilt and fear. Slows my fall to a pleasant descent. The whipping wind of death now feels like little more than a soft breeze of hope and beauty. My impatience seems like a calling that draws me ever closer to you, trying to meet you midstride and join you in whatever walk you shall take through life. I find the idea of one day, possibly soon and yet impossibly far away should you decide so, as nothing but a simple afterthought.
No, for now I shall stroll beside you and take what comes as what will be.

Now, will you hold my hand and step closer? The rain is coming and, my dear, I have but one coat to offer you.

(1:52)

Words have no purchase in the land you have stranded me in.

Long socks, short skirts, dark colors...
Dirty talk, and the sultry shape of your body coming out of your clothes...
Held down, held up, I'll hold you there if I can...
Short breaths, quiet gasps, haunting moans...
(11:11 I wished for you)
Wordless glances, instant kisses, the lusty way you touch my hair...
Almost kisses, teasing hands, nails raking down my back...
these are a few of my favorite things...

my dirty secret is that I like it when you're on top
and in control

He pressed his lips to his knuckles as he calmly deliberated the situation. The crowds roared with a sickly pleasure as he stared intently into the distance, lost in thought and entirely above the situation at hand. He was in one of those moods, afterall it had been quite the day already. Still, that wouldn't change how lost he was in thought at the situation which had risen to him. Before him, greatness lay plain as an apple hanging luxriously off the lowest branch, easily in reach and riper than its breathren, unnoticed by other passerbys. Yet, he was more interested in the tiny lady bug which flitted from leaf to leaf in all its oblivious splendor, going about whatever life it felt doomed to in its current state.

Leaning forwards, he appeared almost as intense as the statue that had been carved by Michelangelo, the Thinking Man, or whoever it was. He had that quiet intensity captured on his face for an instant. Lost to himself and oblivious as the lady bug to the roaring approval around him. Reaching forwards, he felt as if he were grabbing at the hand which he'd seen in the market only moments ago, his hand coming up short and reaching higher at the ever fleeing fingers. Such tiny fingers, simple and unscarred and youthful and happy. The hands said so much about that girl he'd seen in the market. In fact, he'd shed a tear as he held his tongue, watching as his father callously ordered her hung a fortnight from then.

She was so young, how could one so young be damned to die?

In that moment, his outstretched hand took an almost unconcious shape, something beyond his thoughts and yet, entirely in sync with them. His hand seemed to clench into a fist and his thumb shot upwards towards the sky, towards heaven, towards the gods and the deities and Zues' home.

In the pit below, one warrior slunk away angrily as the second breathed a sigh of relief as he sunk to the dusty floor and into a pool of his own blood.

Sometimes my dear I think its hard to express
just how much I want you.
I can't shake the fact that Sunday made my skin crawl
in fear and a bit of shame.
Mostly because despite the fact that you're worried
I still fantisize about you.

Fingertips

Breath short
Heart skip
broken beneath
Fingertips

Subtle smile
Simple kiss
losing control
Fingertips

Poke nose
Trace lips
dreaming of
Fingertips

Stroking cheek
Pulling hair
only thing
Fingertips

Every thought
Other words
found by
Fingertips

Calm patience
Rough vision
held above
Fingertips

Breath short
Heart skip
broken beneath
Fingertips

Blue.
So Blue.
If this blue were green...
I'd likely be dead.
Or a plant.

I hate bravery spoiled by poor timing.

You're probably fast asleep half way to a dream.
Making your way to the scene.
We get just get take one baby that's just how life is.
But no take is wasted with you on set.

Who needs a director with you staging the script.
No producer can capture your talent with the perfect role.
No actor can co-star without bringing you down.
No emotion is outside of your emotional bounds.

Build me up, tear me down, every time
I watch you move across the stage of life and
Take the ups and the downs with every go round
It makes me cry with passion.

Just place your hands together,
Hold them by your legs and waist,
Smile smartly at the joyous watchers,
Bow so I can take you home when you're done.

So I can take you home to candles and the smell of home.
The finest wines and most exotic meals laid before you.
Another hotel room only hours away in another city on another day.
So we can take the time to do it over again until we've seen the world.

I know it seems crazy, but I really want next summer to come. This summer you'll be 18 and we'll have fun after you graduate and it'll be warm and beach-y and stuff. I'll help you move in with Kelly and Meagan and things will be amazing. We'll have our anniversary right on the edg of the best part of summer after you start school...It'll be amazing.
Next summer though...I want to take you abroad. Just for a month or so. Take the time to show you europe as best I can. I'll buy road maps and plot courses. I'll check the internet and reserve rooms in all the right hotels. I'll keep everything stored away to give you the best of what I can think of and more. You can be my little lady, I'll be your silly man, and we'll have our wild adventure.
I want August to come so I can give you more of my time than anyone before you.

"I always have to remind myself. That turning in my stomach when I get out of your car to go to work isn't my lack of work ethic; that turning is a reminder that I miss you before you're gone. Basically it reminds me I'm in love, do or die."

Last night I spent an hour writing something which seemed to mean nothing by the time I'd finished it.
Today I considered reading over it.
Instead I wrote this and decided to just let it be.

tonight I feel like writing

but not having proper grammar or punctuation so much. I really don't care too much for my run ons atm i just wanna type out what comes to my mind and only cap where the compulsion has become automatic and uncontrolable. I don't care if I don't make sense tonight I really just want to write. I want it to make sense, I want it to be deep and shallow and obvious yet subtle...but it won't be and I know it. I can feel it.
I just hope it says what I want to say tonight.

I sometimes wonder if I can't find a way to trick you or help you or change you or twist everything around. I want you to be comfortable and not intimidated and not worry about me and my feelings I want you to focus in and think about the things you feel and how it bothers or doesn't bother you. I want you to search it all and figure out what you need to do or feel or have me do for you. I want to be able to satisfy you sexually, even if that means we're not having sex, I want to be able to do that for you.

Sometimes I feel like I could get more back from you which likely sounds like a complaint or some lament of the situation I am in or the lack of something that is leaving me unhappy or displeased. I just thought I'd mention it in passing, the same way it comes to me in passing whenever I am doing whatever I am doing when the thought stops in for a brief moment on its way to some other place, where discarded thoughts go I guess. I sometimes feel like laughing when you ask me about how I feel or if it bugs me. Physically it is extremely taxing at times to resist the temptation because I've always been one who easily succumbs to my whims and the sudden opportunities or thoughts that drift in momentarily. Physically, not having sex with you can be pretty hard sometimes when we both have lusty moments. Emotionally, its a cake walk. I feel more complete with you then I've felt with anyone else. I've weighed the entire situation and quite frankly I'm ok with how things have turned out and how they're turning out.

You're almost 18. I'm excited for you. Landmark 1 reached. Don't aim for Graduation for your next landmark though...aim for Spring Break. Its much closer. Or my Birthday, whichever is closer. Take very small steps until you can bypass the sudden physical urges that are going to kind of start cropping up as we get closer and closer to summer. If all else fails, don't even aim for significant dates or numbers or days. Aim for Saturday. If you're feeling particularly want-y then aim for midnight or the next morning, or the very hour I get out of my car and go back inside. The closer it seems the more you'll feel like, "I can make it..." Just set a goal you can guarantee you can reach.

At the same time dear, don't be afraid of me if you suddenly have a change of heart (of which I'm doubting :P) as I won't be upset with you. I am behind you. I'm beside you. I want to help you with the goals you've set, help you accomplish whatever it is you want to do. If you want to be a virgin forever, I'd work with you. If you just wanted to get laid on your 18th birthday for some unknown reason, I'd work with you. If you wanted to go to Greece, I'll work with you.

HOP flight, next summer, to Europe. Me, You, the English Channel and a rent-a-car. Greece is just a couple of hotels away, we can see the world along the way.

I like that line, but back to my thoughts.

My oh my, I can't wait for the 5th. I'm always afraid of relationships. Every day I live with a tiny bit of fear that all the trust I've put in someone is going to be dashed again. I never completely dtrusted liz from dy one...and we often fought about it because she told me I had nothing to worry about. She'd never leave me for some stupid reason, especially nothing physical, after all the waiting I'd done for her.
you know how that ended.
With you, I've given so much I think I'd simply break. It scares me and so I try as hard as I can to be truly me all the time so that I never give you something fake. I never give you a wild card that might turn you off and make you suddenly bolt.

I miss Alex Skelton. He was such a great friend and he's gone now.
I miss Carinne Deleone. She was a good friend and now she's gone as well.
I miss Meagan. She was a good friend, but I've grown away from her and its for the best I think.

I have money and I'm being very frugal with it and where I spend it, although I don't seem it. I don't want to let it all burn away and leave me stranded with empty pockets and nothing to show for it. I have so much invisible debt it kind of frightens me.

I cried a couple nights ago. My room was cold, my dog didn't want to stay with me, my parents weren't very interested in talking to me about anything but WoW, and Shannon wasn't around to keep me company. That's how you know I was low I wanted comfort from my brother who never appreciates anything I give him or do for him, but only notices what I fail at when it concerns him.
I cried because, all of a sudden, I accidentally was alone. My family, whom I had once been deathly close to, had estranged me and my want to make them a part of everything in my life by simply stepping all over me whenever I tried to get permission to do something without being deceptive. My brother betrayed me, although that was long ago, it still weighs heavy on my heart in dark moments. My best friends were gone and Justen and I were always so busy we never see each other. His ROTC and his soon to be out-of-state college life sweeping him farther and farther from me. My other friends were estranged by the ultimate killer of friendships, distance. My girlfriend was quitting her old job and her new job was taking a lot out of her, as well as competing with plans we'd made. I spent the majority of that day calling the managers to help me, and since I worked the long (but not quite closing) shift I managed to annoy two managers on the same day. I felt in ept, I felt useless, I suddenly felt that no matter how hard I tried I may never suceed because of how hard I'd failed at High School despite how easy it was. I felt entirely hopeless as far as any form of large scale success was concerned.
I had no family, none of my friends were close, and I felt as if the only friends I had at the moment were all racing off to success and freedom thanks to their jobs and activities. I felt in-ept at my new job and as f I was either going to be fired soon for lack of competance or some of complication. I had no car and was once again a slave to everyone else's schedule. I don't leave without assistance and I can't come home without being carted their by someone else. And finally, all the money I was earning belonged to someone else so it was simply non-existant and being given to me so it can fell into the deep hole I'd dug in the hopes it might keep me from burying myself alive.
I cried hard and long.
I cried until it droned into nothing more than a whimper beneath my breath and the occasional double-breath that one often associates with sobbing, without tears.
I cried until the sun came up and the next day began.

I wiped my face off, brewed coffee, and called the girl so we could hang out and I could find out if we hung out. She said no and the rest of the day was kind of a blur.
I worked a long shift which was slow and criticized. I didn't care.
I wanted to walk home. I wanted to grow cold in the night air and simply leave myself sway to the night air.

That night, I picked up my cell phone and stared at it for a couple of seconds. I was deciding if I was going to call Justen and try to meet him...
Or set the phone down and start walking.

I'm glad I called him.

I don't know where I would have walked. I don't know what I would have done.
Would I have gone to someone's house? To the edge of town? Back home?
No, not home. Back to my Parent's house.
My home isn't there anymore. that's just not how I feel now.

Even if your dad dislikes me leaving my clothes in your house. Even if your mom dislikes that I broke a couple of plates and no longer do the dishes (which I wasn't good at either as far as her standards went for the protocol on dish-washing). Even if your dog secretly despises me for accidentally tossing her and hurting her. Even if your brother looks for every possible chance to try and rat me out because, somewhere deep down, he's prolly not fond of me because I'm hogging all his sister time. Even if I scratched your paint job.
I still think my home is wherever you are.
wherever that may be.

I'm tired and my thoughts are jumbled. It jumps back and back towards the sexually insecure obsessions we've had over the past week. Little things of note, little thoughts here and there. Nothing really important or noteworthy or that I haven't already mentioned 100000 times to you already.

So
I love you Devon.
I miss our summer hang out time Justen.
I hope things are fine for you Meagan.
I hope Missouri is giving you all you want Alex.
I hope your dad isn't keeping you sheltered and your new Zach isn't going to leave you as soon as you start to truly fall for him Carinne.

I'm going to bed. Goodnight those who read, those who don't, and those who are just waking up.

Click.
Warm.
Safe.
Comfort.
Click.
Happy.
Friendly.
Click.
Loved.

At the end of the day,
There really is,
No place like your arms.

I still tap my heels somewhere inside,
Some part of me hopes it will bring me,
right to you.

Its nice to finally have my girlfriend be able to come out and do something with my bestfriend at the same time.

I am relieved.

I didn't want to tell you then, I was worried it would upset you. Seeing as you have tomorrow off I don't feel so bad saying it now.
I traded shifts with Mitch so I could have Sunday off.
I'll see you tomorrow. I'll give you a call and we'll sort it all out so we can meet up with J and L and see our movie.
I love you Devon.

I won't say a word to you
If you will listen to my silence
I won't walk a mile to reach you
If you'll stand beside me
I won't remind you of anything
Since you always remind me

I won't hold your hand
Because its already wrapped around me
I won't kiss your cheek
Because I'm too busy being kissed by you.


Mariya made me laugh today. So she's bagging for me after a couple of carts of people who had WAY more items then 12 got into my express line. We're kind of goofing off and stuff and I make a joke that, "Every woman I've ever met has it out to aggrivate me!" and she was like, "Its because its fun!" and I was like, "I think its because I'm cute when I'm angry." And she was like, "No you're not! You're not cute at all." and I was like, "Whatever, I'm just so cute you can't notice it." Then she was like, "Gosh, how could anyone stand being around you!" jokingly of course and I was like, "It takes a lot of patience and skill."
"Your girlfriend should get a medal!"
Then we started talking about me and you haha. She was suddenly all curious as to how long we'd been dating and stuff. It was kinda fun.

Together they sat quietly in the ravaged ruins of the library. (Expand on imagery here.)

Many a great book once found its home on the shelves for whomever might choose to grace this place with their scholarly pursuits. Since the bomb however, people didn't come here for anything. There weren't any supplies to be had and most of the books had been burnt beyond repair or recognition.

(omit)Still, that hadn't stopped those two from sneaking in that night.

A small fire hung near their makeshift camp, nestled amongst the bookshelves between fiction and romance. (Expand)

Half-burnt scraps were piling up beside them as the taller of the two, a brown haired boy, sifted through book after book, searching for any readable pages. Laying, curled around his shape, but not touching him, was a girl of similar age. Her eyes were closed and her hair was chopped short, taking on the ragged look that often hangs with those who survive and care nothing for physical beauty. Yet, she seemed beautiful for a moment as she curled near the boy, soaking in the warmth from the fire and his body. She smiled occasionally as well, although from far off one could never notice the casual beauty that accompanied such a thing, nor the reason for the smiles. (elaborate/expand)

(add paragraph or two on boy)

See, every time the boy found a page or two, even just a passage, of unburnt text, he would softly clear his throat. Giving it a look over for clarity, he would read it with as intriguing a tone as he could muster. Of course some of the sentences didn't seem to fit together, in fact they hardly ever seemed to come up with an intelligible meaning. Yet, between these two, it was like its own secret story, understood only by them. they enjoyed it, if not for the creativity of it all, simply to spend a moment of peace listening to the voice or sigh of another person.

Eventually, the girl pulled herself closer to the boy, laying so that she could place her head in his lap once she felt he'd found a suitably unharmed book. Tonight, he had scavenged the entire climax of some long forgotten fantasy novel. Some chivalrous peice involving mice and rabbits and badgers and hares and other manner of animals which had not survived the bombs. Still, holding the spine of the book with his left hand, the boy read aloud each sentence. He spoke no louder than was nesscessary for the girl to hear him as he gently ran his spare hand through her hair. Slowly, his voice faded until it dropped into silence; the steady breathing of the girl in his lap evidence that she had drifted to sleep. Now, he stay awake alone, reading for his own pleasure so that he might better set the mood for tomorrow's continuation of the peicemeal novel...

Color Me

If I had to give you a color.
To shade you for everything I know about you.
To fill you in and create a glow of its own.
I wouldn't know where to start.

If I had to pick one color
To describe your many aspects of personality
And remarkable sense of style and suave
I think I'd be rather lost indeed.

Red is passion, lust, and hate.
Love and bliss and the senseless way you're lost in work.
The color of an artist who can do nothing but paint.
But this isn't your color.

Blue is sadness, thoughts, and dreams.
The past and future and inbetween, the way you want things to be.
The color of dreamers and long distance lovers.
But this isn't your color.

Green is for nature, grass, and freedom.
The unbound way you can expand ever outwards and encompass those you meet.
The way you're self sufficent and constantly capable in your own right.
But this isn't your color.

Yellow is sunshine, happiness, and joy.
Too bright to stare at for too long, too easy to overdose and not realize until its too late.
The shade of you which makes you most beautiful of all even to your closest friends.
But this isn't your color.

Black is morbidity, seriousness, and realism.
Very much like logic and the way one can take things into account regardless of their emotions.
The part of you which both scares me and draws me in the most.
But this isn't your color.

White is innocence, faith, and hope.
The uncanny ability to let the things you can't affect be the job of someone besides yourself.
Even faded, or discarded, its still very much a part of you even if you can't see it.
But this isn't your color.

My dear. I can paint myself a color, because I am myself. I cannot paint you, to do so would only disgrace the complexity of your character. Downgrade the beauty I've come to adore in all the aspects of your person that are beyond my eyes.
Oh but you can paint me if you'd like.

Justen brags, my friends rag, my brother's ashamed,
and I don't care.
I hope that one day you will stop feeling so guilty about the way you do things or how it all works out.
In a world of push and pull, somtimes you have to push until you can pull.
In the end, everyone ends up even.

Pensively Creative

That's how I feel today. Yet, all that wants to pour out is something depressing, or something concerning religion. I spent many minutes last night speaking to a girl who is distraught at how she has fallen from the graces of her father.
Not her biological or adopted father, but 'Our Father". The big guy.
God.

Strangely, I feel slightly responsible.
At the same time, I'll be entirely honest, I can't say that I care.

I want her to be happy, but when it comes to religion caring has never been my strong point. On paper I just feel better saying it. Its not one of those things you can say to anyone's face without attempting to offend them, but writing it at least has the possibility of having some integral point or carrying an opinion as opposed to an offensive tone.

I remember I once had a conversation with a friend who was unsure of her religious stand. I would like to add that, after speaking to me and making a couple of her own judgements, she has now decided she isn't religious but (as of last I knew) refuses to tell her family for fear of being disowned.
I didn't pat her on the back or congratulate her on her decision at all. That's not nesscesarily a good decision.

I'll admit that faith makes people have an intrinsic and extrinsic motivater at all times to strive to be better people. Without that faith, that guidance, that ever-watched feeling, you end up with people like me.
Lazy and unmotivated.

Yet, I am entirely unrepentant...its almost sad really.

Back on topic, she had asked me at a point in the conversation something to the extent of, "Well why exactly do you feel religion is a pointless concept?"

I'll answer that question, as I didn't offer anything save a circular proof which had almost NOTHING to do with the question. I hadn't given it thought then, but now I have.

Quite frankly, I have viewed religion in many ways in my own rights and my own opinions. After much study through my own eyes, they're all attempting to show you the EXACT SAME THING from different lights and in different ways. Yet, we still slit each other's throats and spit upon those of other sects, viewing them as little more than ignorant cows who worship false dieties and, inevitably, will be damned to eternal suffering for their ignorance.
Yet this Lord, in many religions, is supposed to be forgiving.

...Fuck that.

If the Lord is at ALL forgiving, perhaps the single most forgivable state is to be entirely unaffiliated and to view all religions as equal and, perhaps, simliar. That would provide an open mind capable of being taught the truth of things in the all important after-life.
Even an angry god, "Holding us like spiders over the flame, only his own hand keeps us from eternal damnation..." which is likely not the exact quote, would be able to work better with an unrepentant scholar of all religions than a blind acolyte to a single faith.

Isn't eternal salvation supposed to be accompanied by knowledge and understanding? Compassion for others and a devout state of mind?
I have been called ignorant before, and I scoff at such things. I've openly been told that I will suffer for my sins and when I choose to repent it will have been too late and I shall burn.
Quite frankly, I don't buy it.
If there IS a god, there is absolutely no religion on earth, or any faith capable of being lead by man or written by men, that is capable of capturing the essence of an omnipotent being capable of such feats described in any text or concept.
In fact, omnipotence is SO vast a concept its almost insulting to say we can grasp the idea in any way.

My opinion on God, the Lord, or any kind of 'Over-Being' that rules all or at least oversees everything...
Is that they are so powerful and so omnipotent, that they have reached a state of being which has created an all around apathy for society as a whole.

In lament terms...
He's so powerful and so ever-encompassing that, frankly, he doesn't give a shit.

Religion has created both virtue and vice in this world. A code of laws and behaviors. Morals and ethics.
I'd be a fool to say we'd be better off without it.

However, I do not believe religion is about a greater being. If there is one, and he is at ALL described in any book...my mind set is perhaps the most salvagable of any mind set. With an equal view of every faith known to mankind (or at least documented) and no discrimination between them...perhaps different personal opinions, but no overal disdain for a culture's beliefs...

Well I could die and head to the pearly gates, or enlightenment, or my second life, as a more knowledgeable person. I would be more capable of stepping up to good old Peter and saying, "How are ya man. I'm here to learn. I've been a scholar of faith my whole life."
Personally, I'd be very easy to convert to a true believer.
That's what Purgatory is, right? A chance to repent and truly convert yourself to the right faith assuming you had the capability to change and repent?
A second life, or third life, or fourth life...or any reincarnation is so that one has a better chance to feel empathy for all beings in the world and all states of mind and states of life so they may one day be truly enlightened and join the dieties in omnipotence?
Enlightenment itself also came from the idea of purifying your body and mind so that you might be pure enough to pass into the spiritual world.
Or the muslim concept of self-sacrifice being the purest thing you can do in order to head to heaven and join allah? Disregarding physical things and letting your spirit be your guide?

If you can't see it...whatever.
If you don't want to see it...whatever.
If you see it and want to believe it...whatever.
If you see it and don't want to believe it...whatever.
Pretty much...whatever.

This is my opinion and is in no way intended to sway other people's opinions.
I felt like voicing this as the answer to a question I never fully answered a long time ago.

I hope, friend, this was good enough for you.

Untitled

There are many great things in life which are umistakably better
unnamed.
Concepts, feelings, all kinds of things that can drive the very soul to tear itself asunder with conflicting thoughts and opinions that have
no direction.
Expanding in every direction until it has spread itself too thin and is enveloped by the very thing it had attempted to ward off in its
compassion.
Like rays of light in the dark, peircing through with unbending will until it too oversteps its abilities and is
lost.

I feel that way sometimes, as if I'm searching constantly for something, anything, to pull me closer to that which helps someone work towards something,
a purpose.
Yet I feel always like the taste at the tip of the tongue which you cannot name, the thought that has just escaped you as you're about to speak, the idea which fades as soon as you try to put it to paper,
utterly lost.
Some will see this and think of me as spiraling into despair, depression, or overall unhappiness but those who know me know the truth behind it all and how I have always felt
at blame.
For everything has a cause, a driving source for every problem, and everyone who knows me has come to the realization that I am quick to blame myself for anything and everything that arises in the lives of others because
its easier to blame someone else.

I want to be blamed, that's the funny part, because to me...if I can be blamed and relieve others of their misery or personal responsibility for whatever haunts them then
I have purpose.

I feel untitled. Purposeless. No goals. No direction. Just writing, scribbled hap-hazardly on paper and left nameless as I have little more use than to be discarded or tucked away as a personal secret, a waste of paper, ashamed.

Why must I be a person who is so obsessed with sex and thus am plagued by such horribly lust-driven thoughts and dreams?

Can you kiss the sky?
Here, sit on my shoulders so you can reach higher.
Can you see your dreams?
Curl up in my arms when you close your eyes and I'll whisper a thousand images for you to see.
Can you hear my heart beat?
I'll pull you closer to my chest so you can listen better.
Can you feel my hands?
I'll press a little harder against your back so you can know I'm still there.
Can you love me better?
I couldn't love you any better right now than I already am, but damn I try.

What is your favorite quote from anything you've ever heard?
I have one, and its simple and sweet. Catchy and cocky. Yet, at a glance it is senseless and pointless.
Its just like me.
At the end of Cowboy Bebop, the Hero is at the end of his life. He's just killed the last link to his past and he's fading fast. Turning back towards the camera, and the awe-struck posse who has entered the room, he staggers part way down the stairwell between them. The foes quiver, taking a step back in tentative fear as he grows closer staggering step by staggering step. Then, he lifts his right hand and curls his ring and pinky into his palm. Pointing his middle finger and his pointer finger at them like a gun, he lifts his thumb up and smiles.
"Bang." He whispers, letting his thumb click down as if he'd shot his final round. Then, he collapses on the stairwell and the credits roll.
The End.

Smells like chocolate...

Was the only thing that came to his mind as he lounged lazily at his desk.
It was the way many of his nights were spent lately, and he chalked it up to insomnia every time. He knew it wasn't the truth, but that wouldn't change the stories he told his friends. Letting his eyes drop low, he noticed the slightly metallic grey of his desk's paint blending subtly with the dulled shade of blue attached to his old blue jeans. Frowning, he reached forwards with his unoccupied right hand, scraping his nail across the off-white stain beside his right pocket. His jagged half-chewed nails caught uncomfortably in the threads of his jeans and he decided to let the mark stay where it was; he'd clean the jeans later.
He did lots of things 'later'. Later he was going to get a job, later he was going to hang out with his girlfriend, later he was going to clean the kitchen. In fact, later on he planned to sort his life and move out.
Everything he planned to do was set for 'later'. Later hadn't come yet.
Reaching up, he ruffled his brown hair, unkempt and unwashed, until it settled into a comfortable place on his head. Despite the seemingly trashy way he carried himself, he was a rather good looking young man, washed or not. Yawning a little, he turned his attention back to the only glow of light in the dimly lit living room of his parent's house.
The LCD's of his outdated laptop flickered occasionally when he jostled the desk before him. Not that he'd have wanted to touch the desk, considering it was steel and the winter's chill lurked in every corner of this unwelcome abode. The image that had formed on the monitor was that of a blank page. Obviously, he was going to be writing later too.
There it was again. That faint scent of chocolate filled his senses as he watched the clock change to 1:39, A.M of course.
Snapped from his momentary lapse of thought, he closed his eyes. Deep brown eyes which hinted intelligence and a certain kind of patience that only displayed itself to those who were willing to speak to him in person. He let his hearing take over, his thoughts drifting away from the chocolate for now. Hayley sung her heart out beside him, coming quietly out of the speakers beside him. Strange, he wasn't a huge fan of Paramore, but he didn't like to mention that in public. Lots of people loved them, his girlfriend included. He could bare them, but after a couple of minutes he got tired of the sound.
Not just chocolate, dark chocolate. Warmed up just enough to melt and mix up nicely with milk, only this flavor was deeper. It wasn't quite milk.
Opening his eyes, he recapped the Sunday he'd just left behind an hour or so ago. Such a strange thing Sunday. Its like a weekend but at the same time, its the beginning of a new week so should we enjoy it or prepare for work instead. Judging by his personal experience with Sundays, this young man used them strictly for entertainment. Kind of a last hurray that couldn't be fit into a glorious Saturday.
Stopping for a moment, he tilted his head as he pulled the coffee mug to his lips once again and took a sip. Not quite a strong flavor luckily, however it didn't have quite enough of that chocolate flavor to it to keep him focused on the coffee and away from the day.
At this rate, 'later' was going to be sooner.
Eying his empty coffee mug, he debated on whether or not to fill it up again. Smirking a little, he shrugged it off and placed his hands on the keyboard.

He'd hang out with her later, but tonight he'd give her a peice of his mind.
Tonight, he'd tell her that his coffee reminded him of Hot Chocolate before Christmas. Of a little red truck that was more than enough to get him around. Of a sunrise that reminded him of real life and not a movie or a book; a cloud covered sunrise that beat any perfect sunrise he'd ever read about.
Of 15 minutes he took to think about how he really looked at that moment so she could get another taste of the little world that held him tightly when he wasn't hiding in her arms.

I can feel the music
I can taste the breeze
I can walk taller, even with scraped knees.

I can hear the silence
I can know the pain
I can see tomorrow, even with blind eyes.

I can dream higher
I can dive lower
I can hold tighter, even with no arms.

I can have thoughts
I can have dreams
I can have my own way, that's what she has taught me.

To my lover

Let me keep this sweet and as simple as I can.
My love, you've beaten me to many things in our relationship.
You kissed me first. You asked me out. You "loved" me first. You took me in first. You confided in me first.
I still remember those conversations. They seem farther away then they are, but I still remember them.
Well, I wanted to try and beat you to something for once. I'm still trying.
I like to think that I liked you first. That I talked to you first. That I wanted you most.
I don't think so anymore though.
You said yourself that you kind of wanted to just talk to me more that night.
And it was you who pulled me aside to say hi first.
Its you who misses me even when I'm there.

Is it wrong of me to be scared of my happiness?
To be scared of how much I need you now?

I like to think I was the first one...
Who stole your heart completely and took it for my own...
Then cradled it softly and offered you mine in return...
Before hiding it away in the safest of places I could imagine...

Your hands.

I miss your kisses.
Your body pressed against mine at the stomach where shirts can slide quickly to hide us.
Your jeans laying against my jeans, our legs uselessly complacent within.
The quiver and sigh that come with my electric touch.
Lets get physical.
I want to kiss every inch of you again, relaxed in our private hours before unforeseen arrivals.
Hold you beneath blankets that are too short to cover my toes because I'm too tall.
Giggling at each stupid face and awkward sound we hear as we try to get comfy.

I want you.
Baby I can't shake the feeling or the taste in my mouth that I get lately.
Hovering over my shoulder like some spectre of lust and passion asking all manner of things.

I miss your kisses, and where they took us on those days where it was just me and you.

Dreaming Dreamers Dream

Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it the stars shining brightly
Reflected in your morning tea
Is it deep like the ocean
Which is just like your bathtub
Or shallow like yourself
Somewhere lost inside

Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it your long lost lover
In your cereal bowl
A turbulent tornado
Which you tame with your spoon
And the hands of the gods
Stirring it up again

Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it your first discovery
Of weaving music into a masterpeice
That you see in his eyes
Or that story of 15 years work
That you haven't quite started yet

Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
When you look to the sky
And dig that much deeper in the dirt
Searching for gold where no one goes
Grasping victory tighter and tighter
As you head towards the core.

Hey there dreamer
I don't know what you see
But I see you laying beside me
An empty glass upon the table
An empty bowl alongside it
The spoon hangs lazily
at the edge of the bowl
Occasionally, you glance at me
Then back to the ceiling
Lost in thought
You grip my hand tightly
Lost within

Hey there dreamer
Tell me what you're dreaming
I promise I'm listening
I just look like I'm sleeping

What's this?
Did you forget?
All the meaningless words you say
Those stupid things you say to me
Is this?
What you wanted?
To chase me off your property
Chase me down onto the beach

Where I
Become one with the waves
Where I
Drift away
Where I
Join the sea
Where I
Drift away
Drift away

Who's this?
On your shoulder?
Did you think you think for a second
That this boy is my replacement
Do you know?
How this feels?
To finally be liberated
Freedom so sweet I can taste it

Where I
Become one with the waves
Where I
Drift away
Where I
Join the sea
Where I
Drift away

Where I...
Lose myself
I...
Drift away
Drift away
Drift away...



oh yay. Lame song. I'm happy!

Days like these make me wish I were blind.
Worse days make me want to take out my eyes.
I want an excuse for blundering into everything that I do.
I want to blame it all on something else besides my own poor judgement.
I want to be different and say it was the sound of your voice, not the way that you smile that drew me in first.

Days like these make me wish I were deaf.
Worse days make me eye pencils thoughtfully.
I want an excuse for being so ignorant to the obvious things that are said to me.
I want to blame all my carelessness on a lack of understanding or ability to hear.
I want to be unique and devote all of my senses to giving you something so beautiful words can't express it.

Days like these make me wish I were stupid.
Worse days make car wrecks look like easy ways out.
I want an excuse for my lack of comprehension and my in ability to remember things.
I want to blame all my inattentiveness on a lack of comprehension and stability.
I want to be unique in all the simple ways that I can't help but overlook in all of my overly logical or compensationary ways.

However, days like these leave me as me.
Worse days remind me how nice it is to be me.
I don't need excuses for all of my faults and all the annoying things about myself.
I don't need to blame my mistakes on some horribly dehabiliting injury or situation.
I'm unique in the way that I have you and I get to shower you in the best and worst of me.
My overly logical, know-it-all, smart mouthed, smart ass, obliviously obvious, stubbornly, nerdy, lame, well-traveled, rub-it-in-all-the-time, off-key, well read, introspective, likeably friendly, and slightly charismatic way.
Mildly handsome in my own way, I bring a little bit of chaos into your life.

Free-spirited and openly imaginative, I take flight on wings made of dreams. I'll nest in your branches which reach happily to the sky with tall ambitions and deep rooted plans, greeting me everytime I fly by.
I'm no seasonal bird, I'll stay all winter.

Green leaves or bare branches, I'll stay all year...


Green leaves...or bare branches.

Don't let me lie

Don't let me lie, you'll only let me let you down.
So baby I won't lie, it'll only hurt you more.
You're my vice, my own cocaine, I can't stop what I've began.
Can't you see? Can't you feel? You're quickly everything to me.
Be my air, be my dreams, be my skin, make my heart beat.
But lover lover, don't relent, there's cures a million,
just you wait.
I'll fix it all, the only way, I'll fix me up and keep us sane.

All the yelling, its only words, and words can't hold us back.
You told me once, and once again, and several times after that.
Look not for approval, but what might make you smile.
Not quite like that, but close enough I'd say.

Shelter me in time of need, just give me a hug as I'm crumbling.
My dear I need to be held back, back from all my little thoughts.
Of packing up and stepping out, closing doors and burning bridge.
Please hold my hands and hold me down,
don't let me burn us to the ground.

Butterflies
The kind with bladed wings.
They fill my stomach every time
When you turn away and won't talk to
Won't look at
me.






i feel so small sometimes

What is Bravery?

Is it half of a hero?
Is it the reason why people like Batman and Superman are so revered despite their fictional status?
Is it something only held by the selfless and caring?
Is it the element of fearlessness that everyone seems to lack?
Is it what makes a friend a friend?
Is it what stands between you and peer pressure?
Your dreams?
Your vices?

Is bravery an obstacle or a boon in your endeavors?
Is bravery what got you where you are?
Earned you who you're with?
Taught you what you know?

Is bravery what got your first kiss?
Physical adventure?
Is it what got you through the first time you had sex?

Is bravery something you possess?


Oh my dear, I'm just not brave enough for you. Ask me to kiss you and I'll falter a moment, afriad you might reject me still. Scared to leave you, scared to be with you. Scared to sleep and find it all a dream.
Better to have loved and lost? Sometimes that seems wrong to me.
Better to have missed out and miss nothing than to be let in and crave constantly.

Oh my dear, I wish I had never had sex. I wish I were as virgin as you. You would have a much easier time with me then. I have no overt cravings, but oh there are times where I wake up in the morning and do more than just think about it. Days when I count my change and frown in the mirror. Days where I want nothing else. Oh my dear, don't let me let you down. We've come so far and I'll fight on...but baby...
I don't know if I'm brave enough to face me for you.

A Play Today!

We're putting on a play today.
A play today, about today.
What shall we put in our play today?
We must put a play in our play on today because...
There is a play today!

But my dear, you are the star!
Our greatest actor with all the best parts!
You have the happy lines and the sad lines.
The monologues and internal thoughts.
The simple scenes and clever plots.

Ah my love, I am no actor at all!
I've never liked the crowd you see.
All those eyes watching scare me you see!
Rhetoric and prose are not my forte afterall!
I think I shall fly then and see just how far...

She's gone my friends! Our star is gone!
The poison she drank and the wounds within,
she's fallen my friends into the darkest of sleeps.
What shall we do without a star now?
How ever shall we save our play?

Well, you see, I'm the narrator and I tell the story.
I will tell the story of today. A tragedy it is you see.
All about the play today, the play about today, today.
A tragedy so complex and beautiful no one can appreciate the subtle way it shapes itself.
In every day of this today it molds and churns in subtle ways!
The catch you see, is not the death, but the birth resulting in our tragedy.
For, you see, her life has left her body, but in it we have our story!

A play today, about today, is on today.
We have no star, as you can see...
Will you be the star of today's story?

The fastest way to fall asleep is to
hold your breath before you
dive right into the ocean
waves lap upon the sand
castles rise into the
sky touches the tan earth as it
reaches into the depths of the mind
as you hold your breath and take
a trip to your favorite place in the
whole world just to spend a few more
minutes is all it takes to plunge into
darkness creeping closer to the shore with each
wave of nausiea as you feel your lungs
burst forth with each spectacular crash as it dances in the
morning light is all that greets you after it all.

Did you know the fastest way to fall asleep...
is to hold your breath?


P.s - totally just random so ya know. Also, g'night. I'll call tomorrow or something.

I want to stay up all night again.
I want to play questions, even if you know all the answers.

My phone battery died

I hope you have/had fun today...
I have a lot of work to do around the house right now.
I need my work schedule sent to me.
I wish I could talk to you soon.
I think I might see you Monday since its a holiday.
Maybe.
I think I like simple sentences today.

1:16

Take me home.
The second left.
Yes,
Right here.



Don't go farther.
forget the 4th.
The mainway.
The way to my
house.

No, lets go home.
The second left.
Go too far,
get lost with me.


Please just drive,
lets keep going.
I'll take the wheel,
you like it better
when I drive.

I always seem to know where I'm going, I think that sets you at ease. Even when I'm utterly and hopelessly lost, I'm always somehow found.
So let me drive, and we'll head into the sunset, we don't have to say a word to anyone, just climb inside, climb aboard.
I'll drive until we reach the shore. We'll strip right down and dive right in.
Baby, I'll dive right in.
to the ocean.
To you.

It is 1:14 in the morning.

I have work tomorrow at noon and I promised to write for 15 minutes. Not only did I promise...but I set myself to it because it kind of turned out to be a bit of a challenge and my ego accepted it. I really wish I'd gotten up and gotten something to eat before I started though. I'm feeling cookies and I'll likely eat a few before I go to sleep. Though, I'm most likley lying to myself so that I will sit here and go through with this whole thing and stop thinking about cookies.
Its kind of funny though, here I'm trying to get all my thoughts to be split by the breaks in paragraphs...or at least the different strains of thoughts, and I seem to be in a moment of flow because I feel other trains of conversation rushing past me as I sit here and try to get a different one out. Look, there goes the one I really wanted to segway into. I totally don't have anything to talk about now. Kind of rediculous don't you think?
Its kind of like when I open my mouth you know. I just kind of start going because I feel that I might actually say something decent if I keep up with the topic I'm on. Afterall, if you aim for something long enough you're likely to get it right don't you think?
There we go! Found what it was. Won't bug me like unknowns seem to bug you. I am too apathetic at times I guess. Funny, the change in music is what reminded me of what I wanted to say. I guess that's because I was going to mention something about the music. Cognition and stuff.
Ok, before I forget here's the first thing. It took me a long time to get into a comfortable enough spot and get the right music to play before I felt confident enough to sit down and get to work on this. I'll have you know I'm kind of sweating the idea of typing for 15 straight minutes without much stops. Its actually kind of funny because I'm typing pretty much EXACTLY what I'm thinking so it makes me feel like I'm thinking a little slower than usual. Oh well.
Its kind of like one of my conversations if I look back over it as I type. Which is weird...reading and writing two different things isn't a common skill I'm told. But hey! Whatever works and gets me through this. Anyways, back on topic...if there ever really was one...this is a mildly daunting task considering that I type pretty fast and all in all I think all kinds of random stuff so I'm likely to get a lot of space covered. Up! 6 minute mark. I think I'll just write until 15 minutes or weariness sets in...whichever is longer. I am honestly curious as to how much I can get down in one sitting if its all just random thought.
Woah...big paragraph...
Man, did you know some of my favorite bands don't even exist anymore? How gay is that!
Ugh, I really hope I can do something unique and suprising for you and with you...I really want to stand out no matter what happens. I mean, in all hopeful natures now, I don't ever ever want to have to leave. Lets just fight and then make up or look around it later. Lets work over the distances and times, lets just live together somehow. That's how I feel. Honestly its all kinds of emotional passion that trancends anything sex could describe. I don't even need sex at all to find myself lost inside you. I think that's why we're able to be so 'complete' without sex.
Anyways, I hope I can suprise you or at least be kinda sly with something. I have to get you a gift the 20th (that is your B-day in Feb right? I hope I'm not wrong >.< It'd be nice to ACTUALLY remember someone's birthday besides my brothers and my own...) and I kind of think I have something planned for the future...not sure though...I guess its something we've always kind of planned to do...right? Maybe...I'm not even sure if I am going to do it. Whatever, not a concern. I'll think about it when the time comes...else it'll bug me just like the concept of me mentioning doing ANYTHINg without specifically telling you what it is bugs you. Cause its like secrets and secrets both scare and excite you...so you prefer it to all be in the open so that you don't have to be frightened.
At least that's how I see it.
I find that to describe you kind of well. You like me for two things in particular. At least, you like me more than other people because of these two things. I'm predicitable. I will come back to you, I'll call when I say I'll call, I'll be there for you. I'm like a loyal dog. You whistle loud enough and eventually I'll stroll right back to your side. At the same time, I'm absolutely spontaneous once I'm there. I break up any monotony you have in your life and I bring a kind of lame joy and light into it. I'm good at brightening up your "I just don't want to see anyone today" days. At the same time, I'm a fun person to be around and I'm easy to introduce to your friend and family (except when I dude'd your dad...) so you don't mind taking me alone cause of my bubbliness. I just fit in with you so well and I don't make you feel trapped or cramped. In fact, sometimes I make you feel freer than usual.
Mind blank.
I like you because you're just...well...mind blank...amazing in all kinds of ways. I think I am going to invest more time to describe that since I JUST hit my 15 minute mark.
Fuck 15 minutes, its my turn to describe how I feel about you, not how I feel about how you feel about me...and my opinions thereof. You like me for whatever secret reasons you like me. Its not my business to know, else it'd influence how I act. I'll just keep being me and hope it keeps you smiling.
There's a good spot to start...I love your smile. Its just happy and brightens up anymood I'm in. Even when I demolish my eggnoodles and clean my counter with what was going to be my dinner, just your little, "I'm sorry..." and a giggle or something from my overtly lame voices are enough for me to just let it die and move on. I can find something else to eat. Its not so bad. When I make you happy, it just defeats any sadness that was encroaching on my 'ever-sunny' skies.
You make all my rainy days end in rainbows.
I felt that was corny and sweet and lame enough...and even witty enough...to get its own line. I went back and changed it just because!
I know...explainations ruin both jokes and cute moments...but its how I work.
There's another thing I love about you...well 2 things...but 1 at a time. Firstly, you're real with me. Liz and other girls...but I know you kind of like 1 upping liz so I mention her specifically here...will pretty much laugh constantly. Its the thing my brother likes in girls; that kind of ego feeding thing that you will sometimes do when you like someone. You kind of gave me a, "Ok, I'm dating you now. Lets cut the crap; its not funny anymore." The same honesty I love about, only slightly harsher. Helps keep my in check.
And I have no idea why reality and honesty made me think of your logic...but that's the second!
I love the fact that you're a logical and intelligent person. You're also humble...but we'll get there, I'll put that here as a note for later...MOVING ON.
You're logical and intelligent. You can hold a conversation with me, catch my slightly 'elevated' humor and my allusions so long as you've seen the movies or had the situation. You and I relate really well. You like playing Scrabble because you have to think logically AND tactically at the same time. Is it worth it now to use this Q? No, I can hold it. I'll use a crap word for now. I love it. Hey! Lets play chess, I always wanted to learn chess. Its such a smart game and I've always wanted to learn.
Sure love, lets play chess again. I'll play a couple of scrap games until you get the hang of it, and then I'll watch as you beat me into the ground at my own game. I can see it in your eyes when we talk, and hear it in your voice on the phone. You won't admit it until you see it, but you're a smart girl...a lot smarter than you think you are.
Touching back before I forget. You're humble and prefer to point out other people's strengths as opposed to your own. When talking of yourself you really only offer your negatives when prompted because you don't want to be pompous or assuming.
You won't make an ass out of you and me.
No, you like it when others feel good and you play to that more often than you should. Your a beautiful girl with lots of talents. You never seem to recognize yourself enough to make me content...I want you to acknowledge your beauty and your talent and your funny little quirks and your cute walk (Kelly's right, you totally have a strut). I want you to both know, and acknowledge it...but you won't and we all know it. In private you will, but in public you can't because its not your style. You're just too polite.
Its adorable, and I love it.
Sometimes, you irritate me. Our egos can collide and yours is a more...subtle. Mines a very obvious thing. I'm egocentric at times...and I'm willing to talk miles about myself. You and I have times where its more of a playful confrontation...but we both know its really a competition. Usually I back down because I can see I've lost...but there are sometimes where I don't want to back down and you put down rebellions with kisses and smart smirks.
You don't know when your beat. It bugs me so much...and yet I still love it. You have some self-respect and a spine. I wouldn't take it any other way.
Woot, its been almost 30 minutes...or has it been more? I have no idea.
I'm going to go keep the promise I made to myself. I'm going to go have a cookie and then put my retainer in...which took so long to earn, even though I kind of feel like a baby putting it in all the time...weren't retainers supposed to be something 14 year olds wore while they were going through the annoying pre-teen and early teen years, blossoming into adults? Still, I spent a long time getting to where I did with my jaw...I'll be damned if I piss it all away because I didn't wear my stupid retainer.
So I'm going to get a cookie...okay several cookies and a glass of cold milk. I can't feel my toes, but I'll be damned if I have any other temperature for my milk. Then I'm going to brush my teeth, get my work shit together. And hit the hay.
Oh, another note. I'm not sure if you've noticed...but recently I've been working on toning down my use of more...'vile' language. Its a personal thing. I kind of started listening to it and the difference it made. I actually sound a lot smarter and far more sophisticated if I just eliminate it entirely. However, I don't want to be a full full adult yet. I wanna be a young man a bit longer. 30 isn't THAT close ya know! No, cut back? Sure, but I'm still gonna let loose here and there.
Alright. Now? Yes tummy, now. Cookie time. Retainer. Bed.
Work tomorrow, 12 o'clock sharp. 5 o'clock freedom, and retreating to my home.
Ugh, raid on friday...but I'll be damned if I don't talk to you. I'll call you for sure...even if for just...

15 minutes.
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