Road Love

Late for work
full of love
and satisfaction
I have seen worse days
where skys were blue.

I let him pass me,
flashing a smile
maybe he will smile back.
I could only wish
he would return the favor

I commited road love
waving, winking,
licking my lips,
and mouthing I
love you.

Fireflies

Last night was a late night for me. I stayed up until about four thirty. It was weird because I was past the point of tired. Its when your eyes are sorta sore but all you can do is keep them open and think...

Here is what I thought about.

Last summer, as mentioned before, I rode my bike all the time. I bought it after I came home from Europe. Long story short, in switzerland, I rented an electric bike to tour the Crans Montana mountainscape. I fell completely in love with the feeling. It was honestly, bliss. Nothing went wrong. It was a day only seen in movies. They are so rare and I will always treasure that. Unfortunetly, I thought I could duplicate that feeling back home. So, with money I earned for dedicating night shift with grandma, (it was a Hospice Job, I wasnt pilfering money from my dear ol' grandma lol), I set out and bought a vintage red bike. I spent an entire evening attaching a basket as well. It was at first a disappointment. There was not all the glamour and happiness I felt before. Until, a certain chain of events happened. I was hurting and couldnt find a way to find peace. I started riding that bike everyday in the park. Sometimes, when needed, several times a day. I couldnt sit still, because that permitted me to think.

It was a memory on my bike. It was late at night, probably midnight or so. I couldnt sit, sleep, or eat. So I rode my bike. I know everyone has one of these memories. Where you can think back and almost feel as if you are there. I was riding along, listening to Death Cab for Cutie and Etta James when all of a sudden I was surrounded, COMPLETELY, by fireflies. It was one of the most beautiful things I ever saw. It was like the stars came down to shine and to maybe pay a visit. In and out the glow of the fireflies swarmed around me. I started to feel a foreign feeling. Something I forgot about. I was happy. I was crying I was so happy. All the pain from life just melted away. It was at that instant I knew I would be okay. I don't know how fireflies could be so powerful. I dont really care. I felt.

Manchester Orchestra (I can feel a hot one)- "and I looked like a painting I once knew"

I want that painting back. In time I suppose.

I Can Feel a Hot One

Today..

I feel as if time has completely slipped into a different world. My sights are adjusted. I live the single life. I'm selfish in my actions and thoughts. I hang out with MY friends, go where I want to eat and so on. Its strange. For so long, my thoughts were occupied on one person. What were they thinking? How is he? Should I ask him to come over tonight? I should help him with homework. etc. I completely cared for one person. I gave my heart. I feel as if I gave too much at times. Sometimes, I feel I didn't give enough. In I Can Feel a Hot One by Manchester Orchestra, sort of describes it. Well not completely in context to the song but the line "Cause enough is never quite enough. Whats enough?" That is how I feel about what happened to me. My love was never quite enough... but what was enough for him? It made me wonder. Are you happy and in love with someone because of what they do for you? or is it what you do for them. I think the second. I loved him so deeply because I was willing to do so much for him. I was not whipped; I knew boundaries. I just was willing to devote myself to him when he asks for help, hug, or a mug of tea. I wanted him happy. I wanted to be happy. I thought we were. The thing is, I chose to feel it. I chose to love him. I had a choice. Just as I have a choice now. Get over him... or hold on till my lips turn blue. Now, I have to chose to not love him. I still care about him though. I fear I always will. I know it takes time to recover. That is what my mother said at least... and my grandmother. It will take time to lick my wounds, so-to-speak, and heal. I'm keeping my chin up and I am determined to learn how to have fun again and love life. It will take time to see the headlights of a car and not think of his. Or to go on top of my roof and forget the first time I said "I Love You". Or to see another couple kiss each other on the forehead and not feel his lips on mine. It will take time... I'm afraid.

Another obstacle I am tackling is the loss of my grandmother. She lived with me all through my junior year and summer. He was around the whole time; holding me and caring for me in one of my darkest times. I guess it was too dark for him. The loss of him, and my grandmother now is a retrogression to August third. The day she... I have to face my demons now. I have uncover the feelings I so willingly hid underneath... my bed or somewhere. Anyways, they are here now. I don't know how to handle them. They creep in during the night, in my dreams, in the morning when it is still dark outside. During the day time, they seem to fade in the light. Too transparent I suppose. They would rather solidify at night, when I am most vulnerable. I kept a journal during my grandmothers transition. I faced death. I heard her last gasp. Its strange, now, that I look back and see that I wanted her to pass on. Not in vain, but in hope that she would be free of suffering. Free from the bars of our hospital bed. Free from the catheter and the single redundant window. It always had the same squirrel visit every day. I miss the nights I spent with her. I miss her laugh; her bright blue eyes. She was always there, willing to listen. Sometimes we talked of nothing and sat in silence. It was all I needed. I needed to just be with her. She is my grandma, but also so much more. She taught me so much, she loved me, she was unconditional. She just wasn't immortal.

Another restless night.

2 a.m. Showers

I look at the water that beats down
with little drops of lust and heat
They seem transparent,
temporary.

One hits against my breast,
and then disappears
behind my cream skin
Flows

In the depths of drainage
and Oklahoma sewage
But I know
One drop

Has known me, seen me
traced down my body
and touched all part of me

This rain, this water
is the only thing
I can turn on.

The first night

This is my very first post : )



The ice storm... more like a Christmas dream. I made Heartbreak cake with my lovely friend Ceirra. It did not turn out so well at all. I am not a cook. Don't every think that I am one. If I act like one, state I am one, or flat out tell you that I can make anything... DON'T believe me. It is a complete lie. The best thing that my non chef-like hands can make is peanut butter and jelly. I think I put too much vinegar in the cake... You never know though.



Have you ever listened to a song that after about the fiftieth time you play it on repeat, you can play the air drums, guitar, and bass? You know the words and can sing harmony as well? Well today, the lucky song is My Mirror Speaks by Death Cab For Cutie. It is a part of me now, I believe. I, honestly, cannot stop listening. A few select songs effect me in this way. I love having this collection of songs that will always be a part of me. These songs are ones that, no matter what, I will be willing to listen too. There is just so much emotion behind each of them. Sometimes some are closely tied with a single memory, I can smell whatever was around me at the time. For instance, whenever I hear Your Ex Lover is Dead by Stars, I smell the park just around my house. It was summer and I would ride my red bike and basket all around, constantly listening to that song. I can feel the sun, burning through my black tank top and ripped jean shorts. The only thing I was missing was a small, cute dog in my basket. Some songs, I'd rather not listen to for that very same reason. I'm sure everyone has one of those.



My Mirror Speaks by Death Cab for Cutie



With every sun that sets I am feeling more

like a stranger on a foreign shore

with an eroding beach disappearing from underneath



And when my mirror speaks it never minces words

cause these eyes don't shine half as bright

as they used to do and they haven't for quite a while



Cause I'm a man who hides from all that binds

and a mess of fading lines

and there's a tangled thread inside my head

with nothing on either end



I always fall in love with an open door

With a horizon on an endless sea

As I look around the ones who were standing

right in front of me



And then my mirror speaks with a reverence

like a soldier I can't command

It sees a child in the body of a full-grown man



And he's a man who hides from all that binds

and a mess of fading lines

and there's a tangled thread inside my head

with nothing on either end

there's nothing on either end



A new position for different view

and nothing changes but the slightest hues

and I am standing face to face



With a man who hides from all that binds

and a mess of fading lines

and there's a tangled thread inside his head

with nothing on either end



I'm a man who hides from all that binds

and a mess of fading lines

and there's a tangled thread inside my head

with nothing on either end



There's nothing on the ends

No, there's nothing on the ends