Life - It really can fuck itself

Life is like a woman's breasts. It's all peaks and valleys. A dude told me this today. So I reasoned that if life was all peaks and valleys then it can really fuck itself. Life can just use the peaks to fuck the valleys. But then he pointed out that it was anatomically impossible. Well who the fuck cares if it is? I can do all sorts of things with my imagination!

Kill him?

"You don't want me anymore...kill me, kill me, kill me!"

These are the words she listens to constantly. At least when she's so inclined to answer his calls. Words designed by him to induce guilt, worry, pain and even some amount of mental instability. Years of endurance has taught her how to ignore him, his words and the world if she wants.

Kill him? Now there's a thought she's considered countless times; if only to save him from himself . Kill him? Oh, how she'd love to do jus that. But what of her when he's no longer there?

On days like these

On days like these the only thing I look forward to is my bed, pillow, music and a dark room with a door. I just want to lock myself inside and forget the world outside.

On days like these I am a bitch and I'm always the pessimist refusing to believe that there is anything to believe in. I just want to be alone in a dark room. A room that matches my attitude.


On days like these I think of dying. This is how bad I feel on days like these. Now I don't believe in committing suicide but I do think it would be lovely if I didn't exist. I just want that black nothingness surrounding me much like my bed sheet.

On days like these the only thing I look forward to is my bed, pillow, music and a dark room with a door. I just want to lock myself inside and forget the world outside.

Fear of Intimacy?

I've been told that I'm good with people. I have good people's skills they tell me. And it's a good fucking thing too since I need those skills to do my job.

However, being able to talk people out of information doesn't make me as good with people as everyone seems to think. Hell, I don't even call my mother for fear of disturbing her. A shrink (a relative) told me once that I fear rejection and intimacy. What the fuck?

Fear of rejection? Fear of intimacy? That shrink needs a fucking shrink. I just don't like disturbing people and I certainly don't want to risk being thought of as a pest. Besides, it's the age of technology. So I'm more inclined to text and email. In fact, only the very few people in my personal circle spend any sort of time on the phone with me. I'm a considerate person and I've got manners. So again, fuck you shrink!

Well, I don't my aunt the shrink will be reading this. Well aunty if some wicked cousin or the other sends this to you then all I can say is...I'm not sorry and you can still fuck off!

Image Info:

Source: http://www.seykota.com/

Title: Intimacy

Flash and Burn

It's no secret that I need anger management. It's also no fucking secret that I'd like to....well I'll not say in public just what it is I'd like to do.

My anger is flash and burn. I've had one two many flashed today. I woke up happy this morning. Now it's all fucked up. Ah well...can't always get it my way.

So I'm going home in a few...gonna catch up on some reading and do lots of thinking. I've got a few things I need to really think about. You know how every now and then you find a person you like...well I've found a miserable person that I like. The thing is I barely have enough energy to deal with the things already present in my life so I don't know how I'll handle it.

Sacrifice, that's how we deal with it. I hate that fucking word.

His Eyes

His eyes
They smile at me,
His eyes,
They hide secrets that I cannot read.

His eyes,
They promise me the sweetest dreams.
His eyes,
They shield a monstrous beast.

His eyes,
They comfort me,
His eyes,
The most beautiful shade of brown ever seen.

His eyes,
Will one day no longer look see me.

Reconnecting

In anger and pain
I banished from my mind
The name and shape of you.
I snuffed out all hope
I allowed malice and spite to grow
And then just like that,
I killed all feelings good and bad
Until you no longer lived in my mind.

Years came and years went
But you had stolen shelter
In the shadows of my mind.
In fleeting moments
You showed yourself to me.
But by then,
No emotions were felt:
No anger, no pain
No malice or spite.
You were just another face
In the sea of faces lost in my mind.

Then one day,
Unexpected and true to form
You emerged out of the shadows
And into my life.
A living breathing form,
Seeking reconnection
Stretching a hand out
In supplication.

Emotions once again flooded me.
Not anger, not pain
Nor malice, nor spite
This time,
Tears of relief flooded my eyes.
For things were made clear to me,
Things I dreaded to believe
Things that you admitted to
Things that soothed my heart,
Giving me hope to trust in you once more.

But wisdom and caution
Voiced restraint
And now like two strangers 
Connecting for the first time
We try once again
To attain some sort
Of father daughter relationship
That is stable if only in name.

The Joys of an Insomniac!

As I spend another sleepless night tossing and turning and watching the shadows chase each other across the roof of my room, swirling and melting creating a halo above my bed, the quiet hum of the sparse traffic whizzing past my window adds to the medley of my insomniac night.

Soon I’ll be joined by my night time friend who will keep me company as I waste the night away. For really what else can a hopelessly antisocial and secretively obsessive compulsive person suppose to do? Sure there is reading but really the last thing I need is to be further lost in my mind and fantasy.

 “So what now,” asks my night time friend? Yes only I can bore even my night time friend who by the way is currently faceless. I usually add a face to the person I talk to in my head. You’d probably be concerned that I’m showing signs of craziness but rest assured that I’m not it’s just another of my weird quirks. And yes I’m a little on the weird side but I like to think that is what makes me unique. I quite frankly don’t care what others think.

Now back to my night time friend. It doesn’t have a name because well then I’d actually be crazy. But it keeps me company as I forever try to catch the ever elusive sleep. I share many adventures with my night time friend until somewhere along the way sleeps decides to be merciful and return to me. There are times when I don’t have my night time friend to keep me company at those times I pass the time either reading or turning to mush whatever remaining brain molecules I have by watching television.

Luckily tonight I have my night time friend who’s now bored because I’m captivated by the display on my bedroom roof. Truth be told though I not sure I am able with this routine anymore. And that is basically what it is.

I come home after whatever kind of day I had and count down the hours to bed time by either reading or watching television. I could call a friend but I honestly do not have the sustenance to keep up with whatever it is they are saying.

The conversation would eventually become one sided with me putting in the appropriate “Hmmm”, “Oh okay”, “I don’t know...” or some other very basic very typical reply that suggests I’m paying keen attention and not thinking of ways to get off the phone without being offensive.

By this time I’ve eventually come with an excuse about how I’m needed by my mother; I really don’t know how to say I don’t want to talk anymore. So you see calling the handful of people I call friends is dreadfully consuming for me.

At this early in the evening I don’t summon my night time friend, like I said I’m not crazy and since we talk in my head and that requires a lot of concentration as well, I wait until I am in bed trying to lure sleep my way. In the meantime I’m at home with my family who most time I’d rather be away from. The bedlam that a mother, one pre pubescent and a toddler cause is enough to really send someone crazy.

Alas, that is how I spend my nights. Tip toeing on the verge of insanity and losing myself in fantasy. Of course there are those unholy lengthy nights when I die a thousand deaths from boredom. And to come full circle I end up on my bed again losing myself in the intricate play of shadow on my bedroom roof, boring my night time friend and thinking of ways to convince sleep to grant me the reprieve of a good night’s sleep. Oh the joys of an insomniac!

The Million Dollar Question

There we were looking into each others eyes.

He held me and I held him

As the moon climbed higher in the sky.

While the wind rustled the leaves in the trees

I could only see him and he me.

The tension seeped into the room,

Mounting, establishing its presence

Three now in a room where two once stood

But I saw only him and he me.

Perhaps this could be,

For surely she held me tightly.

Then perhaps a future could be seen, thought he.

Tomorrow is just as soon for us to know

Thought I, holding tightly still.
Tomorrow we'll know just how far we may go.

The climbing moon peaked the sky
Piercing the cloak of dark that covered the yard.
 And when the wind blew away the clouds
There we were in embrace still
Me clinging to him and he to me.

Neither was prepared to answer
What was so cleverly termed
The million dollar question.
Yet answer we did
But in the tongue of love
In hope that the big question will be ignored.

Perhaps tomorrow we'll see where this thing leads;
Tomorrow perhaps, the answer will be revealed.

Then as the moon moved across the sky in its decent,
Our kiss came to a lingering end.
Yet still I clung to him and he saw only me
And the million dollar question
Remained for now a mystery.

Image Info:
Source: http://www.hurzelercreations.com/
Title: Lover's Embrace II
Artist: Heather Hurzeler