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.